Eleven years into Yemen's devastating conflict, the silent suffering of millions displaced from their homes persists, a stark testament to the war's enduring cruelty. Over 4.5 million souls have been uprooted, their lives fractured, their Ramadans now defined by the stark realities of overcrowded camps and dwindling hope. This sacred month, meant for spiritual reflection and familial warmth, instead casts a long shadow over their shattered lives, magnifying their profound loss.

Marib's Crucible of Displacement

In Marib, a governorate bearing the weight of two-thirds of Yemen's internally displaced population, makeshift shelters offer little respite from the harsh elements. Amina Mohammed, 30, a mother displaced from Hajjah Gobernorate, marks her tenth Ramadan in a camp, a decade stripped of familiar traditions and the comforting presence of her family. "Each Ramadan feels heavier than the last," she confides, her voice laced with exhaustion. "We're trapped in these camps, exiled from our homes by the Iran-backed Houthis. Prices are beyond reach, work is scarce, and even basic necessities feel like luxuries. Yet, we cling to hope."

Echoes of Lost Traditions
Hadeel Ismail, displaced from Sana'a, speaks of a yearning for the Ramadans of her past, a time when family gatherings filled homes with laughter and warmth. "We try to bridge the distance with phone calls, to share fragments of our lives online," she says. "We prepare traditional foods, attempt small gatherings, but nothing can replace the vibrant iftars we once shared."

Even these small acts of resistance are becoming increasingly difficult. Um Najm, a mother of four in Al-Jufaina camp, struggles to put food on the table. Her meager income from selling Lahul, a traditional Yemeni bread, barely covers their basic needs. "I work all day, but it's never enough," she laments.

Ali Hamdi, 50, displaced from Amran governorate, echoes the sentiment of crushing financial burdens. "Ramadan should be a time of peace, but for us, it's a time of intensified hardship," he says. "Prices are astronomical, and the aid we receive from the government and international organizations is inadequate."
Resilience Amidst Despair
Yet, amidst this landscape of despair, the resilience of Yemen's displaced population shines through. Journalist Khaled Al-Hatimi, who has dedicated his career to documenting their plight, describes their struggle as "heroic."
"Each displaced person carries a story of survival," he says. "The challenges of camp life, the constant threat of further displacement, and the ever-worsening effects of climate change make Ramadan an almost unbearable ordeal. They yearn for the traditions that once defined this sacred month—the shared meals, the familiar rituals, the comforting presence of loved ones."

A Flicker of Hope
While humanitarian organizations provide vital, albeit limited, assistance—food baskets, communal iftars—the gap between need and aid remains vast. Ayman Atta, media officer of the Executive Unit for IDP Camps Management in Marib, highlights the ingenuity and determination of the displaced. "Despite their immense suffering, they find ways to create a semblance of Ramadan," he says. "They organize group iftars, prepare traditional foods with whatever ingredients they can find, and decorate their shelters with whatever they have, even with limited resources."

As Yemen's conflict continues to cast its shadow, Ramadan for the displaced remains a stark reminder of their ongoing struggle. Yet, in the face of unimaginable adversity, they cling to the unwavering hope of returning home, of reuniting with their families, and of celebrating future Ramadans in peace.