Sana’a is a vibrant, jolly city. It’s loud—walk through its many streets and souks dedicated to shopping or food, and you’ll hear street hawkers haranguing you to buy their goods, friends chatting and joking with each other as they pass by, and car horns blazing as they try and squeeze through seemingly impossible gaps.
But look closely at those cars, and you might spot a face staring out from a poster. In fact, look around at the street’s walls and, among the flyers advertising various events or political figures, you might again see a solemn, usually young, face staring out. Sometimes they’ll appear on billboards, sometimes they’ll be painted onto walls as murals.
These are Yemen’s martyrs.
They define the pain that this country holds deep inside it. They come from various backgrounds, and various political groups, if any at all—this pain is one shared throughout Yemeni society.
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