I have learnt that out of all the wars this is one of the most unjust.
I have learnt that there is no such thing as collateral damage the very moment you decide to drop a bomb as the aim is simply to harm, kill, destroy and bring inconceivable pain.
I have learnt that bombs come in all shapes and sizes, with a light during the trajectory and a travelling sound which gives you the shivers.
I have learnt there are sound bombs which can break your ears, enter your bones and make you think the earth is breaking to engulf you, that there are no banned/illegal bombs as they are still produced, used and sold. That the shock wave of each explosion leaves your soul scarred and your heart bumping.
Of this war, I have learnt all the numbers by heart: the dead, the injured, the maimed, the starving, the displaced, the children out of school, the infrastructure pulverized, the hospitals attacked, the missing in action, the dates of each massacre, the number of NGOs operating inside/outside/for Yemen/only for some parts of Yemen, the orphaned, the widowed, the flights cancelled by the imposed blockade (land, air, sea).
Yet, this is neither what will personally be defining my narrative of war, nor what will remain.
It cannot be the legacy of the past 19 months as each devastating moment of the aggression has been outnumbered by events, acts and deeds transcending war.
I have witnessed courage, resilience, virtually every day. The best reply to each act of violence, bomb dropped, has been fought back with a life lived as close to normality as possible.
Every problem presented, such as lack of water, gas, electricity, has been solved with an in-house solution and endless solidarity. No, in Yemen you are never alone. Neighbours help. Friends call, relatives sustain. It’s the fabric of the nation, notwithstanding the big divide each war brings.
There have always been open doors to those in need. Communal life, sharing, weddings planned and celebrated (which better way to prevent war: love).
Generosity and life conjugate throughout the day in Yemen.
It is true, something is lost forever. Nothing will replace the historical sites bombed, the shrines and mosques destroyed, the ancient houses collapsed. Thousands of innocents have lost their lives or are slowly dying in a gripping famine in what is now considered to be the worst humanitarian catastrophe of the planet.
Yet, something is keeping us together: the love for the country. Whether stuck inside Yemen or abroad, we all convene we can only fight back by working hard and loving, even more, our land.
(photo taken from home in Sanaa: we are all neighbours)