To the Tyrants

Yemenat

Ahmed Saif Hashed

As a child, I once wondered: Would God punish the fox that snatched our chicken from the coop next to our house in the dead of night?

The chicken screamed in a voice that shattered my heart—a sound I had never heard before. It was more painful than death and louder than a megaphone. No one came to her aid. Her cries split the night in two, as if begging existence to intervene and save it.

In shock, my father fired a shot, hoping the sound would scare the fox away or perhaps even hit it. The gunshot’s sound matched the chicken’s desperate cries, yet the fox did not abandon its meal; it silenced our chicken and her breaths forever.

That day, I nearly protested against this harsh life, bursting with questions that might anger the Most Merciful. Even today, more than fifty years later, I still remember her piercing screams. Her voice tore through the stillness of the night, igniting sparks of anguish within me. I wish I could forget that sound, as recalling it brings me immense pain. Perhaps that day, I sensed a horrific imbalance of justice in existence and felt how cruel this life could be.

* * *

I never imagined I would live to see the day when all of Yemen would witness the filthy wars that have ravaged and torn apart our people. To see all this widespread death, destruction, and horrific devastation with my own eyes, and to hear the wails and pain we have endured.

I never thought I would witness what shatters our eyes, hearts, and weary souls, nor did I expect to see such death in Gaza, accompanied by such terror and ugliness. That many countries around the world would support or collude with the