The Nation Reunited at Mwatana's Conference

Over the course of two days, Mwatana for Human Rights convened over 200 Yemenis from various governorates across the republic. They gathered in a hall in Sana’a, with five additional virtual venues in Aden, Shabwa, Taiz, Seiyun, and Mukalla, all connected to the main conference hall via the internet, on the 11th and 12th of this month.

The participants in the main conference hall in the capital, Sana’a, were a diverse group—journalists, writers, academics, lawyers, judges, civil society activists, human rights advocates, teachers, and more—representing various governorates, including remote areas such as Mahra, Hadramout, and Socotra.

For me, this was the first event of its kind, with such organization and diverse attendance, especially in a time of war and conflict. In contrast to this conference, most events nowadays are few and far between, often limited and not comparable in significance.

The emotions were overwhelming as I reunited with colleagues and friends, separated by the events of the past decade that have torn the country and its people apart. It felt like a return to years past, when cultural and civil movements were vibrant, active, and resistant to political polarization.

Back then, our voices were loud, calling for a modern civil state, equal citizenship, genuine democracy, and social justice, among other dreams. We stood in solidarity against the injustices in Saada, the South, and Tihama, and supported those dismissed, excluded, or forcibly disappeared.

Today, however, the situation has changed drastically, and the injustices have multiplied. What more can be said? The situation has reached a breaking point.

Nonetheless, the "Legacy of Gunpowder" conference was an important moment to reflect on Yemen’s condition after ten years of war. The attendees presented deeply disturbing accounts of enforced disappearances and landmine victims—painful realities that have affected thousands of Yemeni families, leaving behind sorrow, pain, and despair in hundreds of homes. The conference also examined the overall state of human rights in Yemen and the unjust targeting and demonization of civil society.

The conference was a rare occasion where Yemenis from different dialects, cultures, beliefs, and sects came together. The happiness on everyone’s faces was unmistakable, and the friendly, brotherly spirit was clear in the conversations and discussions that took place in the hall and during breaks. People from Mahra, Sana’a, Socotra, Dhamar, Aden, and Taiz warmly engaged with each other. On their faces, you could see the longing for a return to normal life—no war, no bloodshed, no road closures, no unpaid salaries. You could also see their yearning for a just state, one built on the rule of law and equal citizenship. Despite their differences in beliefs and opinions, Yemenis, by nature, are capable of accepting and coexisting with one another.

In the faces of the participants, I saw their pride in their Yemeni identity, their love for their homeland, their rejection of war and political, social, and economic fragmentation, and their unwavering determination to achieve their rightful national aspirations—aspirations that guarantee political, economic, and social rights for all Yemenis, regardless of region.

One participant said to me, "I feel like life has returned to my body. This conference was like an awakening from a near-death state. I thought we no longer had a voice, nor even a glimmer of hope for the Yemen we dream of. But there is still good in the world, and we will continue to fight for a better future for our children."

Another participant shared, "I cried during the opening session when I heard the late great Abdulaziz Al-Maqaleh’s poem ‘We Will Keep Digging in the Wall’, sung as an anthem for Mwatana. And tomorrow... victory will be ours."

Yes, we will keep digging in the wall for a better future, and the dream will undoubtedly be realized—for the righteous shall prevail.