I write my story while reflecting on how moments transformed my life. I recall the painful past with all its intensity. When I was six years old, as the sun was setting, I heard the sound of gunfire. I went outside joyfully, thinking it was fireworks. When I reached the door of the house, I met my brother, who was older than me—he was twenty-five years old. He was my half-brother. He pushed me back inside and ordered the entire family to remain indoors so that no one would be harmed by the sounds we had heard.

Suddenly, bullets struck the walls of our house, shattering all the windows. Everything scattered before my eyes like splashing drops of water. I imagined I was watching a horror film—but this time, I was the main character. I did not understand why my siblings were screaming and crying, why my mother was trembling in one room while we were in another, and why my father was isolated in a third room. This continued for several hours. When night fell, the situation finally calmed down.

My eldest brother went outside with my mother and father to assess the situation. As I closely watched their faces, I saw sadness in my father’s eyes and hatred in my brother’s eyes. I do not remember what happened after that, for at the time I was only a powerless child.

On the morning of the fourth day after the incident, my father ordered that we be moved from the village—the village where our house had been destroyed and innocent lives threatened over land that produced nothing but thorny grass or barren desert with sand blowing in all directions—to Sana’a. We stayed in Sana’a for no less than a year. Then my father received the news that the well dug to irrigate the land had been blown up. He suffered a heart attack that caused him to lose consciousness for a period of time.

These were unforgettable stations in the history of my life—moments sealed with evidence and silence in the face of death, my mother’s silence under the weight of need, and the hell of displacement. They were shaped into images that still return to my memory again and again. Problems within the family increased, conflicts among relatives intensified, and as the years passed, I found myself deprived of the education I had dreamed of.

My first real suffering began when I was in the ninth grade. On the day my father passed away, my brother came home accompanied by three suitors. The first tempted us with money; he was already married and had three children. The second knew nothing but drowning himself in desires. The third lived in the countryside and was a man whose life was wrapped in ignorance. My brother decided to marry off my sisters and me to these three men.

I was terrified for my future and rejected this unjust decision. I wanted to complete my education. After three years of struggle with my brothers, my mother, and my grandfather—and after turning sincerely to Allah through prayer and night worship—I reached a stage of deep despair. I said no to learning, no to optimism, no to goals. I became overwhelmed by frustration and began to hate everything around me.

Halima, once filled with optimism and love for life, turned into a pessimistic, withdrawn person who trusted no one—not even her own family. No one noticed the drastic change in my nature except my mother, may Allah protect her. She did the impossible to make us happy. She left the house searching for work, hoping to compensate for some of what we had lost.

During her search, she heard about Al-Rahma Foundation for Human Development. At first, she did not give the idea much attention, but life circumstances led her back to Al-Rahma once again. Glory be to Allah who says: “Perhaps you dislike something, yet Allah places much good in it.”

My mother decided to apply for work at the Al Rahma Foundation. Then came the greatest surprise: Al-Rahma Foundation welcomed my mother along with her five children, and I was among them. I could not believe what was happening. Had I returned to life again? Was I awakening from a long darkness that had engulfed my life?

I never imagined that I would attend university—but that is exactly what happened. Halima was reborn at Al-Rahma Foundation for Human Development.

I graduated from high school in an atmosphere filled with joy and happiness, and my dreams began to dance before me as I eagerly worked to achieve them. I became the first university graduate of the Foundation, specializing in Business Administration.

I was professionally trained in several fields, including:

• Supervisor of a workshop (sewing, embroidery, carpets, and traditional garments)
• Substitute mother
• Supervisor of children from infancy up to 12 years of age

Training Courses and Certificates Obtained:

• Vision for Administrative Consultations
• Communication and Interpersonal Skills
• Persuasion and Public Speaking Skills
• Voluntary and Teamwork Skills
• Starting Point Program
• Diploma in Self-Management
• English Language Courses