The camp did not feel like a refuge, in a parched patch of nowhere by a bare, black hill. There was nothing in the way of distractions for the displaced people sheltering in tents here, like a playground, a store, a cafe; nothing to prevent thoughts drifting to the war and the dead.
Three years had passed since his father was killed by Yemeni rebels known as the Houthis, but Azzam Shalif seethed at a memory still fresh. They had snatched his father, a teacher, from in front of his house. There had been long and tortured negotiations to reclaim the body. Then there was disbelief when his father, disfigured beyond recognition, was finally brought home.
Now Shalif, who fled to a government-controlled area, referred to the parts of Yemen dominated by the Houthis as “enemy” — a classification that included his home town and even his own relatives who had joined the rebels. “The enemy doesn’t understand the word dialogue,” he said when asked how the war might end.
“We have an enemy that doesn’t want any solution,” he said.
Such resentments have pooled in Marib, a pocket of relative, if uneasy, stability that has received tens of thousands of people fleeing battlefields across Yemen during more than three years of civil conflict.
Read full article by Kareem Fahim on The Washington Post, March 26, 2018.