Trump fires his first bullet against the Middle East

Courtesy: lucia martinez

*As a Yemeni, I was terrified when Donald Trump won the presidency. I couldn’t express exactly what I was terrified of, or how he would have policies that would have an extremely damaging impact towards Yemen. But my instinct made me fear of a coming nightmare. I’ve had the anguish of imagining Yemen, one of the poorest countries in the world, versus the US, a superpower on earth.

Not long enough, last week, Yemen, along with six other Muslim-majority countries took the first bullet of Trump’s administration’s extreme nationalist and racist foreign policy in the Middle East.

Ironically, on the 27th of January, the same day of the Holocaust Memorial Day, Trump signed an Executive Order that imposes a selective ban on people from Yemen and nationals from other six countries from entering the borders of the US. The immediate reaction by US-related Yemenis was disbelief, while Yemenis inside Yemen did not care much, “as if this matters to us, we who have been living under naval and air blockade under the war,” as one friend in Sana’a told me.

Overall reaction was understanding that this is another phase of deepening the longstanding animosity and anti-American sentiments that Yemenis have for the US administration, not only in light of the US 15-year-old drone strikes campaign in Yemen that slaughtered more noncombatants civilians than combatants, but also in light of the US involvement in the ongoing conflict in the country in its support for the Saudi-led coalition airstrikes campaign. No clear condemnation statement from Yemen’s exiled president in Saudi Arabia, Abdu-Rabu Mansour Hadi, has been made yet, while former ousted Yemeni president, Ali Abdullah Saleh and Houthis’ authority in Yemen has condemend the ban.

Condemnation is not enough at this point. The least that can be said about this disgraceful order is that it is discriminatory. As a Yemeni, I’m enraged. I think of the largest Yemeni diaspora community, which is residing in the United States. I think of my Yemeni friends who recently have taken the risky and costly road to seek refuge in the US, following the war in Yemen. I think of the American-Yemenis’ tears and pain, as they are stuck in airports around the world, asked to be deported to war-torn and starving Yemen. I think of their fate and what worse reality the future holds for us.

The day after the ban was under effect, American commandos conducted a raid into Baidha province, in south Yemen, killing one local al-Qaida leader but also around 30 civilians mostly women and children. Among those shot dead was eight year old Nawar al-Awlaqi, the daughter of the jihadist cleric, the Yemeni-American Anwar al-Awlaqi, who was killed in 2011 by an American drone strike. Nawar’s brother, 15-years old, Abdulrahman al-Awlaqi, was also killed by a US drone strike weeks after his father.

Both former president Obama’s and president Trump’s administrations have always showed eagerness in conducting their operations in their war against terror in Yemen, but the aggression and hatred has never been as consistent as is the case under Trump’s rule. Trump’s policies show that Yemenis’ lives don’t matter and will not matter to the current US administration.

The administration sends a clear message that it’s legitimate to rip Yemenis from their right to free mobility, while mercilessly bombing them in their homes. Giving this inhuman situation, we should all worry about the backlash.

______________________________________________________
*This article was first published in the Swedish Institute of International Affairs' online magazine, utrikesmagasinet.se on 30-01-2017.

Yemen's war destroys lives - even beyond its own borders

Thousands have died and the economy has been derailed. For those abroad, including
embassy staff and students, that means no money.

*At the Yemeni embassy in Beirut, a DIY kitchen stands in the hall to the left. To the right, on the ground, a few pillows lay, leant on by a group of young men in their early 20s.

The young men are Yemeni students who have taken the embassy as a shelter for more than two years. I met them last month, but they did not hold any hope my interviews would solve their plight.

Nothing has improved for the students, even after Middle East Eye’s coverage last year; in fact, their misery has only grown larger.

The 76 students, some of their country's brightest, came to Lebanon on Yemeni scholarships in 2014 - but have received no financial support since. They were forced to go to classes and survive on their own in pricey Beirut.

With no financial support from the ministry and with families struggling with the raging war in Yemen, it has been impossible for the students to afford basic expenses including food, accommodation and medicine.

The makeshift kitchen for students in the Beirut embassy (MEE/Afrah Nasser)

Out of helplessness and protest, the students have turned to the embassy for refuge, and sleep in its empty rooms. The embassy has not been able to help them more than that - the embassy’s staff also have not been paid for nearly a year.

The humanitarian tragedy of Yemen war is not only seen in the raging famine in the country, but it is also felt beyond its borders. Yemenis dependent on stipends from Yemen’s public institutions are left to suffer.

Yemen’s economy has been in major decline, as the various rival groups fight over control of the central bank. Unpaid salaries for civil servants is the latest symptom - more than a million people have not been paid for three months, a situation that has had a catastrophic impact on millions of households.

Yemeni diplomatic staff have the same problem - whether in Lebanon, Malaysia, Sudan, Morocco or beyond. This comes after the Houthi-run Supreme Political Council, which controls the central bank, decreed that all embassies were their enemies and cut salaries.

Clearly, the economy has become a bargaining chip between the Houthi-Saleh alliance on one hand and Abd Rabbuh Hadi’s internationally recognised government on the other.


The embassy’s staff who spoke on the condition of anonymity stressed that it has been extremely difficult for the students and the embassy staff to file complaints to the “right” authorities, as there are a growing division and power struggle between Saleh and the Houthis’ newly-formed cabinet and the internationally recognised Hadi government-in-exile.

Both students and the embassy staff in Beirut express great despair.

"We were granted the scholarship because we were the country’s brightest students, then to end up in this agony is devastating,” said Ahmed al-Hamadi, a 24-year-old electronic student.

"Many students have mentally collapsed and some were put in jail because they were unable to afford the expense of renewing their student’ residency. From a bright student, you end up facing starvation and being regarded as a criminal."

No money, more problems

Students find it difficult to focus on studying when their empty stomachs churn, and the costs of accommodation and transport constantly haunt their thoughts.

Lebanese laws make it also impossible for the students to work. “It is illegal for anyone in Lebanon with a student visa to work," said Ali al-Ramim, 25, a mechanics student. "We could be caught, then imprisoned, subjected to deportation and a $5,000 fine."

All warring parties are blamed for the staff’s unpaid salaries and unpaid financial support to the students.

A photo of the students recently in the embassy in Beirut (MEE/Afrah Nasser)

“The division in Yemen’s government has also divided Yemen’s crumbling economy which should have been impartial, and we are the ones paying a high price,” one embassy staff member said.

“Today, when Yemenis are not killed by rockets, starving to death inside the country, or being displaced at a refugee camp in neighbouring countries or somewhere else, humiliation and despair accompany those who are abroad.”

“This war has caused horrific damage in every corner in Yemen, from Hadramout to Saadah and it also hunts those who escaped the war,” Mohammed Othman, 23, an electronics student said. 

________________________________________________________

*This article was published first in Middle East Eye, today.

I was Awarded Sweden's Pen Holder Prize for 2016

I was awarded Sweden's Pen Holder Prize for 2016, today. The prize was established since the late 80s & is annually awarded for female freelance journalists to support their work & dedication. If I'm not mistaken, I'm one of the first brown women given the award in Sweden, which not only makes me proud but also makes me love Sweden more. My Sweden sees a difference to be an advantage. And, more importantly, my Sweden believes in women's power.

Such recognition for my small & absolutely imperfect work, makes me wanna work harder & harder to continue echoing the voice of my people in Yemen. It's been 5 years for me in Sweden & I've always been thinking on how to dedicate my time & energy for my people, despite the distance (till the time comes when I work from Yemen).

Working with human rights issues is a tough work. You know that things might not get better. And they don't. They go backward, often. Still, what gets me jumping out of my bed every morning is: the love of my life, that's writing.

What would I have done without you, writing? Don't know..

Anyways, tack Sverige!

Yemeni Photographers Fight Despair and Trauma of War

My latest feature published on Middle East Eye about what I discovered at the recent photography workshop at The Yemeni Salon in Jordan.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Abdulrahman Jaber used models to pose as war-weary Yemeni bride and groom for his 'Situation'
series of images (Courtesy of Abdulrahman Jaber)

It is nearly one year since the Saudi-led coalition began their bombing campaign in Yemen and Yemenis are constantly trying to find new ways to express their feelings about the tragedy unfolding in their country.

For Yemeni photographers who had to leave their homeland, they are not only turning to their photographic craft to cope with the pain of longing and separation from their families and loved ones, but they are also creating alternative narratives about the reality of what it now means to be Yemeni. A narrative that goes beyond the headlines and one which tells the stories of the people on the ground and those forced into the diaspora.

This relationship between the war and displaced Yemeni photographers was the topic explored at a two-day workshop in Jordan last month run by the Yemeni Salon Organisation. Founded in 2012 by myself and my colleague Hana al-Khamri, the Yemeni Salon organisation is a diaspora group focusing on cultural and media empowerment projects about Yemen.

As a Yemeni who has been in self-exile in Sweden for the past five years, I prepared myself for the discomfort of seeing how the diaspora is expanding – a sign of how tragic the situation in Yemen is – and how we are finding ourselves in a position where we must be the voice of our people. I knew the workshop would be emotionally exhausting as it addressed heartbreaking stories about the conflict and subsequent displacement.

The work of the photographers certainly presented a very different view of the situation in Yemen compared to the narrative presented in mainstream media.

Despite being scattered around the world, the photographers' work showed how the war impacted each of them - and revealed their resilience. Among the five Yemeni photographers exhibited, two of them - Abdulrahman Jaber and Yasmin Al-Nadheri - had a particularly deep impact on me; so let me present their work.


My father’s last days

When Yemeni photographer and designer Abdulrahman Jaber decided to leave Yemen after the war broke out last year, little did he know that he was about to face the most difficult experience of his life: the death of his father while he was abroad. His passion for photography was to play an important role in how he fought the agony of the deeply felt loss.

Jaber’s interest in photography goes back to before the war. “I’m a designer who’s a shy photographer,” said Jaber. Jaber’s modesty is admirable, given that his photography and design work in Yemen have been receiving great attention since 2005. His particular brand of photograph is usually characterised by it's stylishness and simplicity. When the revolution erupted in 2011, Jaber was one of the first local photographers who rushed to Change Square in Yemen's capital Sanaa. It would be rare to see him without his camera, as so much of his time was taken up capturing inspiring moments from the epicentre of the revolution.

Following the armed clashes in Sanaa at the end of 2011, Jaber was inspired to showcase how the people of the city were attempting to forget about the seemingly constant hail of bullets and the sound of gunfire, and to just go on with their lives.

"I was struck by how it was becoming the norm that you would be at a wedding with loud celebratory music being played and dancing people swirling around while you could hear the sound of gunfire echoing just outside as different groups were clashing. The people at the wedding weren’t panicking nor would they stop the wedding party,” explains Jaber, they just carried on.

That is how his series of photographs titled Situation was born, depicting the strong desire of the people to continue their normal lives, despite what was going on around them.

Abdulrahman Jaber tries to show the reality of a wedding day in a Yemen at war. Togetherness and tradition combined with the unavoidable elements of the war raging on the streets of Sana'a (Courtesy of Abdulrahman Jaber)

The artist tries to depict how Yemeni's continue living their lives despite war (Courtesy of Abdulrahman Jaber)

Brides are supposed to be the happiest on their special day, yet in his 'Situation' series of photos Jaber depicts brides in Sana'a as being worn out by the fierce armed fighting that does not pause for their big day (Courtesy of Abdulrahman Jaber)

A portrait of the groom in Jaber's 'Situation' series. He wears a soldier's hat to symbolise the
violence in the city which rages on (Courtesy of Abdulrahman Jaber)

As the war raged around him, in March 2015, Jaber turned his camera to his private life and made the brave and candid decision to document and share one of the most poignant events in his life - the death of his father. 

“Due to the deteriorating security situation and the worsening health care services, it was extremely difficult to obtain the crucial medical assistance for my father, especially when he needed it the most,” says Jaber.

In the course of Jaber’s father being medicated at home and increasing numbers of visits to the hospital, Jaber made the decision to document his father’s last days. Jaber explains: “I created a journal of photographs of him while I was in Sanaa and when I left to go to Turkey, my brother, Suhaib, continued taking the photos. It was just a few weeks after I left that I received the devastating news that my father had passed away.

"I had to share the photographs. I called the collection of his final images My Father’s Last Day. While the pictures certainly say volumes about the harsh reality of life in Yemen, I think sharing these pictures is a way to celebrate the memory of my beloved father too.” 

A portrait of Jaber's late father, Hassen Mohammed Jaber during the last days of his life (Courtesy of Abdulrahman Jaber)

Jaber's father often got daily check-ups from one of his sons (Courtesy of Addulrahman Jaber)

After a struggle to get him the help he needed, Jaber's father was admitted to
hospital for treatment (Courtesy of Abdulrahman Jaber)

Following the struggle to get Jaber's father admitted to hospital, family members always
 made sure to surround him with love and support (Courtesy of Abdulrahman Jaber)

Jaber's father in his funeral shroud before being laid to rest. Photo taken by Suhaib Jaber (Courtesy of Abdulrahman Jaber)

Jaber's father is now buried in Sana'a (Courtesy of Abdulrahman Jaber)

The truthfulness and sincerity in this series are so strong because it also mirrors a greater picture of many Yemeni families losing loved ones due to the deteriorating health services.

Jaber today is trying to make sense of his new place in Turkey and he continues to immerse himself in more design and photography work.

Photography beyond borders

Social activist Yasmin al-Nadhri attributes her recent interest in photography to her lifelong passion for art and fashion. When she left Sanaa to go to Egypt for work just days before the war broke out, she had no clue that she would be leaving Yemen for good and would end up utilising photography as means to relate to the war in her country.

Her scheduled flight back to Sanaa coincided with the exact day that the Saudi-led coalition began its air strikes against Yemen; all flights home were cancelled.

With just the few clothes she had with her, al-Nadhri found herself stranded in Egypt. Due to the war and the increasingly tense security situation, she decided that going home was not a safe option and has not been back since.

During her travels for work going between Egypt, Germany, and Jordan, she kept a close eye on developments in Yemen through social media networks and has contributed to photography projects and initiatives taking place inside the country, including the #YemeniWomenBike (2015) and #YemenCoffeeBreak campaigns.

Her belief in the urgency of enhancing women's rights in Yemen compelled al-Nadhri to participate in the Yemen Women Bike campaign with photos not only intended to support the campaign but also to amplify women’s voices in the light of the war.

Despite her frustration of being stranded in Egypt, al-Nadhri created a photography collection depicting a Yemeni female in a modernised version of Yemeni women’s traditional outdoors-outfit known as sitar, while biking near the pyramids in Cairo.

“The context of Yemen at war inspired me to take this photo,” explains al-Nadhri, “seeing my country from far away being devastated by the war broke my heart. Yet, all the while our women and girls are fighting for their rights. I needed to show my support. I took the photo in Egypt hoping to show another side of the war and show that even stranded Yemenis want to show their connection to their homeland.” 

A photo of Yasmin al-Nadhri in a modernised version of Yemeni women’s traditional outdoors-outfit known as sitar - taken for the #YemeniWomenBike campaign (Courtesy of Yasmin al-Nadhri)

When it came to the #YemenCoffeeBreak campaign, al-Nadhri again had the urge to participate in the campaign, despite being in Jordan. She went to the Amman Citadel and took a photo depicting a woman holding Yemeni coffee in the palms of her hand.

Al-Nadhri used the great resemblance between the Citadel and the throne of Queen Bilquis in Yemen’s Marib city. “While Yemen is increasingly becoming polarised and divided, more so each day, coffee was one of the few things that still united the people. Coffee was actually a message of peace for many of us who participated in the initiative,” al-Nadhri says.

“With both photos I thought it was important to show the role of photography in supporting and uniting our community; more specifically to show that photography goes beyond borders.” Al-Nadhri made the decision not to show her face in the photos to emphasise that the images could be timeless and conceptual.

A Yemeni woman at the Amman Citadel holding Yemeni coffee in the palms of her hand (Courtesy of Yasmin al-Nadhri)

Spanish artist Pablo Picasso once said: “Art is the lie that enables us to realise the truth.” The alternative narrative created by these photographers for what is taking place in Yemen is artistic, but it also seeks to tell a different truth. Between fiction and non-fiction, their work has empowered the photographers to fight despair and trauma.