EXPERT COMMENT LAST UPDATED : 19 NOVEMBER 2018
Birmingham City University student, Maram Abdulkader, shares her story on escaping conflict in Yemen to study criminology in Birmingham.
If someone had told me I would be where I am today, I would probably be in disbelief.
Three years ago, I was on a 32-hour bus ride from Yemen to Saudi Arabia escaping death. Never in my life had I felt so consumed in the thought of surviving and hoping to make it to the Saudi border alive. I remember spending the whole journey constantly praying and hoping that the war would be over by the time we got there. Little did I know that the goodbyes I gave my family and country before leaving were going to be forever, or at least it feels like it.
The last 29 days I spent in Yemen were probably some of the hardest living experiences any one can encounter throughout their life. Now that I live in the UK, I have come to realise that the greatest blessing one could ask for is the blessing of safety. Safety was taken away from us, and by ‘us’ I am referring to the 27 million Yemenis that have become nothing but irrelevant news headlines that seem to surface in social media from time to time. For those who are unaware of the situation in Yemen, in simple words, for the past three years we have either been terrorised by Houthi rebels, or killed by Saudi-led air strikes.
My last memories were unfortunately painful and unbearable. Most of my day was spent in the basement with the rest of my family, trying to stay safe, but that was not the worst part. In fact, the only good memory I managed to have from this war was that I got to spend more time with the people I love. The worst part was the sleepless nights we had because we were too afraid to go to sleep and not wake up. The worst part was not having electricity, gas, or water. It was a struggle mentally, emotionally and physically. We did not leave the house, because the situation wasn’t in our favour, so we stayed home all day, believing it was the safest thing to do. Soon enough that wasn’t an option anymore.
On 20 April 2015, an air strike on a scud missile base that was a few miles away from the house I was living in triggered a big explosion, resulting in 25 deaths and wounding hundreds. I remember a few seconds before hearing the explosion, I felt the house shake so powerfully that I felt it was useless to run and hide, because it was over. I remember my aunt running up to me, hugging me and telling me I’m okay and that we are still alive. At that point I felt numb, because for the past few weeks all I did was prepare myself for death. I looked around to see our home in a state of destruction, broken glass everywhere and it was then that I realised that even in the comfort of our own home, we were unsafe.
Fortunately, we were among the few who had visas to get out of the country. Unfortunately, this did not apply to the rest of my family. Saying goodbye to my family was one of the hardest things to do. It was the first time I felt I had lost someone before I actually did. The uncertainty of what the future looked like was unsettling and agonizing. As we got ready to leave, I realised it was going to be my first time leaving the house ever since the war started. I wasn’t prepared mentally to witness what my beautiful country had turned into, as a result of the continuous air strikes. It felt like I was a stranger in my own streets. Nothing looked the same, even the people; life was sucked out of them. They were alive, but they were not living. Everything was destroyed. Everything was suspended. Schools and universities were closed, and jobs were on hold. It almost felt as if we had no purpose and no one cared enough to help. It pains me to know that that was the last memory I had of the city I grew fond of and deeply loved.
Moving to the UK, leaving everything behind and starting over again was hard. Back in Yemen I was soon to be a graduate, my life before the war seemed to be on the right path and everything was the way I wanted it to be. After moving I hoped I would somehow be able to finish my last remaining credits and graduate, but that would eventually be disregarded and seen as a worthless qualification, due to the fact that it was incomplete. Everything was going downhill for me. Every university was rejecting me and I felt like giving up. Nothing was going right for me. I was advised to apply for an access course and start with a clean slate, if I wanted a successful career.
At first, I found it so difficult to accept the idea of starting a degree from scratch. I was 22 and I had to go through an access course and then university all over again? It broke me. The state of mind I was in pushed me to believe that I was too old to start again. That I was wasting my life trying to get a degree and going through education again. I was in a constant battle because part of me felt stuck and the other part was holding on to the dreams and goals I always wanted to accomplish. Luckily for me, I had a supportive family who pushed me to be the best version of myself and encouraged me to go for it.
I undertook my access course and then I applied to study Criminology at Birmingham City University. Looking back, that was the best decision I have ever made. Although it took me a while to realise it, I know for a fact it will never be one I will regret. I am grateful for everything I have encountered throughout my life, even the negative experiences, as they have helped shape my personality. If I could go back in time and give myself advice, I would say that at times things will be tough and you will feel like giving up, but the worst thing you could ever do is give in to the cruelty of the negative experiences life throws at you. One thing I have learned is that we are much stronger than we think we are - we just have to believe it.
Find out more about studying at Birmingham City University at the institution’s Open Day on Sunday 25 November.