If you dare to expose your face to the air, they attack from every direction. You must spend part of the night in struggle, ...

In my childhood, my cousin Salem Ahmed Mohammed Hashim, who is roughly ten months older than I am, shared with me the peculiar habit of eating dirt. Our craving for this earthy substance arose from ...

Sheikh Huyay, or Sheikh Yahya, is honored with a shrine situated on a small hill in Wadi Sabih. This shrine is enclosed by a ...

For wounds, we used the sap from the “Abki” tree to aid in healing. Other plants and trees were also relied upon for various ...

It is said that our grandfather journeyed from Hadhramout to the area of “Al-Qabayta” more than three hundred years ago. He ...

The experience of thwarting death’s grasp, of preventing it from snatching your child away, is a visceral sensation that ...

Our village, like many others, is nestled in a valley known as “Sharar,” situated within the district of Al-Qabeta, which ...

A grievous blow has struck us, yet a compounded tragedy has befallen my father. A family’s tragedy as the provider loses his ...

My mother is the wellspring of our initial consciousness. She would weave captivating tales for my siblings and me, and we ...

What we endure is fragmentation, hunger, and loss. Our sighs and groans break our spirits as we lament: We once had Yemen; we ...

A fragment of my early childhood in Aden is etched in my memory; some recollections come easily, while others elude me.

Upon our return from Aden to our village, Sharar in Qabeyta, we were burdened by sorrow and the weight of long separation. We ...