
Yemen at the breaking point
Yemen at the Breaking Point
Where the world looked away, humanity remained
Yemen is a place where everything felt like it was breaking at once. What was once just hard had become impossible. This wasn’t another war story; it was a nation unraveling in slow motion. My photographs from Yemen reflect that unraveling: fractured cities, resilient people, and quiet moments weighed down by something immense and unrelenting.
Since 2015, Yemen has endured one of the world’s worst humanitarian catastrophes. What began as a political rebellion escalated into a grinding, multi-sided conflict. The Saudi-led coalition’s intervention against the Houthi movement intensified the destruction. Blockades and airstrikes trapped civilians in crisis.
Years earlier, I covered the flash point of Yemen’s Arab Spring protests, an especially tense and exhausting chapter. The crowds, the crackdowns, the uncertainty in the air. It was a moment when the country stood on the edge of possibility, but the promise of change quickly gave way to deeper instability.
I witnessed neighborhoods reduced to rubble, marketplaces abandoned, and children navigating ruins as though it were normal. And in the midst of that, mothers, doctors, local aid workers, and elders all carried on, not out of hope exactly, but because there was no other choice. Yemen taught me something about the dignity people can preserve, even as the systems around them collapse.
I was there to see some of the last remaining Yemeni Jews quietly flee the country, leaving behind centuries of tradition and community in a land that no longer made space for them. I also documented Somali refugees landing on Yemen’s southern coast after crossing the Sea of Aden, fleeing famine and violence only to arrive in a war zone even more brutal than the one they left behind.
My work took me through Houthi-controlled areas, government-held zones, and regions destabilized by groups like AQAP and ISIS. Every checkpoint told a different version of the same story: survival. Food shortages, fuel scarcity, broken hospitals, and impassable roads were the norm. Yet there was always someone offering tea. Always a face that asked to be remembered.















































