Thousands of Yemeni refugees have sailed across the Bab el-Mandeb strait to Djibouti to escape bombs and hunger in war-torn Yemen.
In 2015, Markazi refugee camp was set up in the small African nation to host Yemeni refugees. Although nearly one third of the refugees have left the camp since then, families remaining are too scared to go back home.
Nothing to do
“Mostly young people go back - they have nothing to do here, no jobs,” says 35-year-old Amal. He lives in Markazi refugee camp together with his wife Riyad and their daughter Raida.
Returning to the war-torn country is dangerous, he stresses. “The son of a lady here in the camp went back 20 days ago. Now we heard that armed men killed him. They give them money to go and fight their war,” he says.
The couple are too scared to go back, but they miss their loved ones. Riyad has not seen the children she had with her first husband since they fled Yemen eight years ago.
Still, life in the Djiboutian refugee camp is also, at times, unbearable.
“In the summer it is really hot here in the camp,” he says.
Everyone fled
Abdalla Zeid, 64, crossed the Red Sea together with his family of six children in a small canoe to escape from the deadly fighting in Yemen. “I crossed Bab El Mandeb in September 2015, when the bombing started. I had a feeling that this was going to be a deadly war,” he says.
“We fled to Djibouti with 25 other families. The whole village was deserted, no one stayed behind,” recalls Abdalla.
Although he wants to return to his old life in Yemen, he worries about the humanitarian situation in his home country.
I am caught in a dilemma. I fear that returning to Yemen means facing the risk of becoming another victim of a senseless war. How could my children forgive me if I brought them out of safety and into the jaws of death?Abdalla Zeid, Yemeni refugee in Djibouti
Hopes to one day return home to Yemen
Abdalla Zeid tries to keep himself busy in Markazi refugee camp. He has set up a simple water purification project to filter water inside his makeshift tent. He believes that his humble method contributes to keeping his children safe from water-borne diseases, and is happy when no one complains about stomach aches or diarrhoea.
Abdalla struggles to find work in the camp. When he lacks inspiration to monitor his filtration project, he spends time sleeping or watching people as they pass along the road. To make ends meet, he depends on well-wishers and odd jobs taken by his first-born son Mutia, 25, while his daughter Aida, 18, makes tablemats that she sells to neighbours. All his six children suffer from hearing disabilities from the loud and deadly explosions back home in Yemen. Young Aida lost her hearing completely.
The family is doing their best to get by in the Djiboutian refugee camp, dreaming of one day being able to go back to their lives in Yemen. Abdalla has photos of his home saved on his son’s mobile phone. He feels nostalgic every time he looks at his house, he says, and remembers the good old days before the war.