Layan, 16, Student

What do you see when you look out of your window?
My neighbour’s berry tree and when I get close to the window I see my little sister playing in the backyard.

What did you have for breakfast today?
White cheese, eggs, my mom’s hot bread and red tea

What has become your most important object?
My phone and my karaoke-app.

What do you miss the most?
Al Bank al Yemen al Malabis - the “Yemen Clothes Bank” - an organization that collected clothes and distributed them to poor families. I used to volunteer for them. I went to the families that had received clothes, wrote down their names and entered them into a databank. Unfortunately the organization has been closed down because of the Corona-virus.

The one thing that struck me the most with Layan and her older sister Malak was their talent. They have great voices and they love to dance. I guess they inherited their talent from their parents, from Shyma, their mother, whom I interviewed for Window Talks a while ago, and from their father, who is an amazing singer and poet himself. Since I met Shyma and her family in Sana’a ten years ago they have been close friends to me. I visited them again shortly before the war broke out and had the pleasure to stay at their house. One evening, the girls and I turned the living room into a ballet class, put on music and practiced pirouettes, jetés and some choreography. Shyma and her husband peeked into the room now and then and smiled. Later on that evening when we had tea and dates in the masraf, the sitting room, they told me how much they wished for their daughters to be able to follow their dreams, to develop their talents and to receive a good education.

Today, after years of war and now on top of that, the threat of the pandemic, Layan - as thousands of other teenagers in Yemen - is left with only her dreams. The news that is emerging from Yemen remains ambivalent. As of the 2nd of August, the UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs OCHA reports 1734 Covid-19 cases in Yemen and 495 associated deaths. However, indicators continue to suggest that the virus is spreading rapidly, that the number of confirmed cases and deaths reported fall below actual numbers, and that people who are symptomatic delay seeking treatment for reasons that include stigma and difficulty accessing treatment centers. There is a faint hope, that due to the spread of the virus in Saudi Arabia and its disastrous implications for the Saudi economy, the Kingdom might push for new peace negotiations with the Houthi-rebels as it desperately needs to find a way out of the dead-end street is has manoevred itself into.

But as the days are passing by, Layan is stuck in stagnation. Had the circumstances been different she would have finished another class at high school this summer leaving her with two more years to go. But due to the pandemic the schools in Yemen have been closed for months without offering online classes or any academic perspectives to their students. Layan spends her days at home with her mother, her three sisters and her little brother – longing for opportunities to break out a little bit at least. Thus, after watching her mother being interviewed for Window Talks she signaled to me that she was eager to do an interview herself.
She set the time and date and asked me to join her on Instagram video chat (honestly, I didn’t even know video chat on Instagram existed. I learned something here). And she insisted on doing the interview in English as she very rarely has the opportunity to practice her language skills.

Hi Layan, where are you right now?
Layan: In my room (she tilts her head and smiles). Here the internet connection is really good – and I can translate the English words that I don’t know on my computer.

Sounds great. Tell me, dearest, what’s new since I spoke to your mom a couple of weeks ago?
I sold my Instagram username.

You sold what?
(She smiles) My Instagram username. You know, it consisted of just three numbers, that’s very popular. I sold it to a user in Saudi Arabia.

How much did you get for that?
400 Saudi Rial, about 100 US Dollars.

Okay… And what did you buy with that money?
A phone. A Xiaomi, it’s a new Chinese brand. My father got me one at the market in Sana’a. It’s the first phone ever in my life. Before I used my mom’s. It’s very important to me as we are at home all the time. The phone is like a bridge to the outside world.

The day before yesterday Sana’a was bombed again. That must have been a horrible.
Yes, we were all shocked. We haven’t had any bombs for two months, so this was a very bad surprise. And I was so worried about my grandmother as the bombs came down close to her house. Fortunately she is fine. Her house wasn’t hit.

How are you now?
I am fine and happy because I have my own phone. But apart from that I feel as usual. I feel sad about my life. It’s not the life I wanted in my mind. I wanted that we were safe and I dreamt of having a good education at a good university. But the schools weren’t good before Corona, and now the situation is even worse as all the schools and universities are closed.

How bad is the pandemic in Sana’a right now?
I don’t know. A couple of weeks ago lots of people died of Corona every day. Two of our neighbors died as well, they suffered from all the symptoms. Whenever we opened WhatsApp or Facebook we saw pictures of people who had died. We hardly have any tests or any treatment here. Those who are sick just sit at home and die. But now there suddenly are very little cases. I don’t know why, but they seem to be getting less.

I heard that lots of people don’t care to protect themselves from the virus. Is that true?
Yes. They have more important issues to think about. Now we have very heavy rainfalls in Sana’a. 17 people , including eight children, have drowned in the floods. And the torrents have destroyed dozens of homes and houses in Old Sana’a. And on top of that we have a severe petrol crisis. People just go ahead in search for petrol and totally forget about Corona. The only good thing is that there is a gas station only for women. Women can get gas there without being harassed by men. However, the women’s gas station closes at 6 pm, two hours earlier than the other ones, so many women go to the men’s stations anyway.
What frustrates me is that the Ministry of Health doesn’t seem to care at all about the health of the people. It doesn’t do anything. There is no action, nothing. Only the schools are closed while shops and mosques are open.

Do you have any idea why?
If the government closed the shops people couldn’t work and wouldn’t have anything to eat at all. Our government can’t give us the things we need. They don’t care about the people. They care only about themselves. And about the money. The government takes taxes from the shops. If the shops were closed they would lose the taxes.

How much do you deal with political issues?
No much. It hurts my heart to think about these things. I am listening to music instead.

The houses in Old Sana’a are destroyed due to neglect and heavy rainfalls. Picture by yemenfans — The houses in Old Sana’a are destroyed due to neglect and heavy rainfalls.
Picture by yemenfans

What is your biggest fear?
To lose somebody of my family. When my grandmother, my father’ mom, died eight months ago, I was devastated.

What do you feel is worse: War or the threat of the virus?
The virus is worse. We can’t see it. People just die without anybody noticing it. We can’t tell them goodbye. War however, is tangible. If we leave the house we know that we might not come back. We got used to live with that fear.

Do you nevertheless leave the house now and then?
Very rarely now. We visited my other grandmother a couple of days ago. That was very nice. And sometimes my father allows me to take the car and drive to the supermarket. I love to drive. I drove to the market many times during Ramadan.

Layan on the road. When driving she wears gloves to protect herself from the virus

Is there anything that has made you smile lately – against all odds?
I don’t remember (Layan pauses some seconds). Well, yes, Malak, my older sister, makes me laugh a lot. She is funny. She makes the whole family laugh.

Do you follow any routine at home to give yourself a structure?
Kind of. I get up at about 10 o’ clock and help my mother with the housework, do the cleaning, the laundry or some of the cooking. Then I watch movies, talk to my friends on Instagram or sit on the roof when the weather is nice. I love being on the roof when it’s raining.

The roof - Layan’s place to be in her home

Layan’s favourite book: “Man’s search for meaning” by Viktor Frankl. “The book makes me understand the meaning of suffering. Everything that happens in my life happens for a reason.”

What movies are you watching?
I love Korean series and American movies. “A Beautiful Mind”, for example. Watching American movies helps me practicing my English. I would love to watch a movie in a cinema one day. Do you know we had cinemas in Yemen about twenty years ago? My parents often went to see Arabic movies. I asked them once how it was. They told me it was magic.

Is there anything to do for young people in Sana’a right now?
No, nothing. When I see how girls in good countries live and what they can do I feel frustrated. I would love to live like them. I want to go to a studio where I can dance and sing.

I hope so much you can do that one day. You are extremely talented.
Thank you! I try to develop myself as much as possible. I read, sing and practice dancing at home. I have a karaoke-app and follow a Korean dance program on Youtube. It’s called “1 million dance studio”. But as much as I love this – there is something more important than my talents.

And that is?
Our safety. And that women finally have the same rights as men, that they can travel freely. One day I will raise awareness about the situation of women on tv and radio. Now I do it on Instagram. When I see or hear something bad I create posts about it.

What do you mean with “something bad”?
For example, little girls that are forced to get married.

Lots of children are starving in Yemen. How does that impact you?
It breaks my heart and makes me feel helpless. There are so many starving children in Hodeida and also in Sana’a. I would love to give them all food. But I can’t. We can only help on a very small scale. Like when one of our neighbours came to us and asked for rice and bread. She had her child with her. She broke up with her husband and has no income. She is very thin. She told us she could clean or do anything we needed. But we didn’t have work for her. We gave her food and some money.

What do you learn from your parents in these difficult times?
Patience, harmony, cost control and hope.

Hope?
Sure. My family gives me a lot of hope. My parents never stop working and they keep thinking ahead. We believe that one day everything will be great again and that Yemen will be as beautiful as before.

How have you changed during these years of war and months of the lockdown?
I have become aware of how precious and valuable Yemen is to me. And Corona teaches me to be responsible and to withhold personal desires and wishes.

If you had to put together a new government, what kind of people would you select?
I would choose people according to their characters and their efficiency. People, who don’t take the right of others, who do their job with a good heart and honesty. And I would choose a lot of women.

What is your biggest dream?
To study international business at a good university. And then I want to open up a company with hotels and a studio for performing arts here in Sana’a. I want to give young girls the chance to dance and sing, to do what I had hoped to do myself. And every morning when I wake up I tell myself, that one day I will be a great woman and I will do what I love. I will live my dreams.

I have to go to the kitchen now.

Sure, dearest. Talk to you later.
Bye, honey.

Bye