Writing is like my one true love right now. It always has been actually. I just never really had a fitting outlet for it. I kept a journal in the past but have never really been able to do so consistently as I was mocked by some (cue violin) for using writing as a coping mechanism for my (seemingly never ending) issues. Also, privacy is a foreign concept in my culture, let alone household.
So I guess blogging was my saviour really. I’m almost completely anonymous on here. I can write what I want without worrying what anyone would think because no one knows me. I have grown pretty attached to my blog lately and though I am technologically challenged I try and make it look as presentable as possible.
Aditionally (why do I sound like I am writing an essay though?) as someone who is keen on photography, I take GREAT pride in picking out photos to go on my posts and editing them (really by this I mean playing with the contrast- I know squat about editing!) Ha! I am actually really careful to only use good shots. More importantly, I only use MY shots on my posts and nothing from the internet. This probably makes me weird but that’s my rule.
Today, I am breaking that rule. The photos attached here are not mine. They were sent to me by my cousin who is currently living (or survivng would be more accurate) in Yemen. Given the circumstances in which they were taken, they are obviously not the clearest pictures in the world. I tried to do something with them to make them look good enough to post, anything. But, really; how do I beautify war?
What could I possibly do with a photo depicting murder, agony and pain to make it scream less destructon? Nothing. The photo shows what is happening in Yemen at the moment; war. War is ugly. Apparently when Ghandi said an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, no one was taking note.
This makes me feel sad for various reasons; I grew up there, my family (a large portion of them) are currently, as I type this, living in the midst of it all. They are suffering. Since the war has started, a few months ago, I have lost contact with my family several times. Imagine not knowing whether someone you love is alive or not? When I do reach them, all I hear is stories about endless powercuts, grenades and screams at night.
My life at the moment is a constant battle between grieving the hardships my family are going through, from injuries to fleeing the only home they ever knew to then losing said home, and feeling extremely greatful that I am safe. Guilt filtrates through me like poison sometimes that I am ok and they are not. Nonetheless, I constantly thank God for the blessing of feeling safe.
It breaks my heart to be so far away and not to be able to help my family in anyway, shape or form. All I can do is sit still; make as many prayers and send as many happy thoughts to God as possible to please save my family and restore Yemen to the place it once used to be.
I don’t dwell on the whys and hows of this war and what other countries are doing about it, because doing so doesn’t really change the safety status of my family and thus doesn’t bother me for now.
My primary concern is for my family as well as all the people in Yemen to be safe. I have never really viewed myself as a patriot but I am extremely fond of Yemen. Not only is it where I grew up but it holds within it people that are so dear to me and memories that are deeply embeded within me…
In fact, this country is so special to me, despite its immeasurable flaws that my very first post on this blog was about Yemen. Reading it back now makes me so emotional because though conditions were dire as always when I was last there, it was still a thousand times safer than it is now. I took that for granted. I hope and pray that safety finds Yemen once more and that I am reunited with my loved ones again, very very soon.