Latest news with #Holda
Yemenat
05-07-2025
- Yemenat
From My Diaries in America: A Fish Out of Water
Omar Al-Saadi arrived at the agreed-upon meeting spot, parking his white Lexus nearby. He stepped out of his imposing vehicle with a stylish wheeled bag in tow, approaching me while pulling it along. In contrast, my black duffel bag was damp and strapped tightly to my back with two shoulder belts, resembling a mischievous child in elementary school. He greeted me with a broad smile and a friendly spirit, calling me my dear. We shook hands warmly and headed toward the station, then the train platform, waiting for the train. During our movements, he asked questions and engaged actively, transitioning from one topic to another, while I helped him pull his bag after some hesitation and resistance on his part. I began to feel a certain fondness for him in a relationship that was still under trial. I appreciate relationships that are free from complexity, pretense, and formality. As soon as I took over pulling his bag, I felt a greater sense of freedom, liberated from the constraints of etiquette that restrict intimacy and hinder the discovery of others. We boarded the train and searched for our reserved seats in first class. The seats were plush, and the tables elegant. Everything here seemed harmonious and comfortable. He preferred my company and seated me by the window, then moved to another seat and table after a few minutes, especially since there was plenty of space available. The empty seats outnumbered those occupied. On the train, I wrestled with sleep that sometimes washed over me gently, and at other times hit me like a tidal wave. I tried my best not to miss the stunning views and beautiful nature through which the train was passing. Whenever the train entered a tunnel, my eyelids would droop, and I would succumb to a delicious sleep, only to awaken once we emerged without preventing the ongoing battle against sleep until I returned to enjoy the beauty of nature and the details of life that I was gliding past. We arrived at the Washington station. I was surprised to find ourselves in a queue, first one, then the next waiting for a taxi. We moved to the hotel to drop off our luggage, then directly to the conference hall. We raced against time, arriving fifteen minutes late due to transportation issues and a mistake in finding the correct address. Upon entering the conference hall, Holda rose from her seat near the entrance. She welcomed us with the smile of a child, her face radiant and bright. She greeted us softly and handed each of us a bag containing some conference documents, related brochures, a ballpoint pen, and a notebook. * * * In the conference hall, we were supposed to listen to the speakers, but I had no idea what they were saying! There was no translator or headsets providing Arabic translations as is common in many places. Everyone at the conference was silent except for the speakers, all of whom were speaking in English. My accompanying translator, who was sitting next to me, tried to whisper brief answers to my questions in a low voice to avoid causing any disturbance or distracting the attendees. I strained to hear but to no avail. I felt the need for another translator who could listen to me and explain what was being said. I needed a tool or means to eavesdrop more effectively. Speakers would come and go, and I had no clue what they were discussing! I felt like a fish out of water. To escape the monotony of this heavy situation, I resorted to a translation app on my phone, trying to grasp some of what the speakers were saying. My appearance in my seat, trying to comprehend, was nothing short of amusing, perhaps even funny at times. I felt that the lack of the local language was like swimming in confusion, amplifying my sense of alienation. I managed to understand bits and pieces here and there. My head felt like a chaotic jumble grains of barley, corn, millet, and whatever else came my way. A little from this, a little from that, and a little on top of a little adds up. I picked up a word here and a phrase there, and through individual effort using the translation app, I slowly pieced together what I could. After the first session, finding my companion within the conference became a challenge, sometimes requiring a prize to locate him. He was like a small ball of mercury slipping away between my fingers. I would spot him here, only to lose sight of him again despite his tall stature, large head, broad baldness, and prominent forehead. I would see him on the first floor, then after searching, find him on another floor or perhaps in another hall, busy with his many calls. My experience with him, after some time and forgetfulness, reminded me of my childhood when I used to play hide and seek with my friends.
Yemenat
03-07-2025
- Politics
- Yemenat
From My Diaries in America: Accompanied by a Businessman
In a message from 'Holda' to my friend Dr. Tareq Al-Amry, our organization is honored to invite Mr. Ahmed Saif Hashed to attend the conference in Washington. Mr. Ahmed may bring along two companions at our organization's expense, provided that one of them speaks English. Following this, arrangements were made for the journey from New York to the conference hall. During my trip to Washington, the first challenge I faced was meeting my companion, businessman Omar Al-Saadi. The idea of having a businessman as my companion, especially one holding American citizenship, was something I never imagined, even for a day in my past. In Sana'a, all my companions have been simple, kind people throughout various phases and successive authorities, regardless of whether they supported me or faced repression. Tragically, one of them was murdered unjustly and violently. My first companion was Adel Saleh Yahya, my wife's brother. He was killed by a beating that led to his death during a time when Rashad Al-Alimi was the Minister of Interior. He was murdered by a gang linked to a ministry official, who was the head of the security and protection department. When justice eludes you due to an authority that prevents its pursuit, it leaves a wound in your heart, a pain and sigh that never fades. The rest of my companions each experienced their share of assault and violence in one way or another: Fikri Mohammed Saeed, Khaled Al-Qurtab from Lahij, Khaled Al-Qahtani from Shar'ab, Ibrahim Al-Jalah from Raymah, Ammar Qardash from Aden, Marwan Al-Haj from Taiz, and others. I interacted with my companions on equal terms. Our relationship was marked by love, without arrogance or a sense of hierarchy. I treated each of them with kindness and care, filled with warmth. Those who accompany me must take risks and anticipate the worst possibilities. I remember wanting one of my relatives to join me once, but he replied, 'I won't gamble with my life. I'm still young; I want to live and enjoy my life.' However, my companion Nabeel Al-Hossam was the perfect partner. Nabeel had a disability in one of his legs, but he was noble and loyal. He had a fiery temperament, often hitting the table with his fist during disagreements, only to regret it and apologize afterward. Today, in New York, my companion has been a businessman for two consecutive days. We might become friends—it's just a possibility. Throughout my life, I've rarely found chemistry with businessmen; even those with whom I share some fondness have remained distant, with an unbridgeable gap between us. At best, we have maintained a hundred-foot distance that feels off-limits. * * * In New York, I was staying in the Bronx while my companion lived in Manhattan. I thought he would come to my area, and we would take the train together, but I was surprised to learn he wanted me to come to him. From there, we would head to the American capital, Washington. I couldn't risk taking the train to my friend's city, fearing a potential mistake that could leave me lost and miss the conference, which was the main event. I needed an alternative to the train for this journey—a taxi to take me from my city to his. To arrange this, I had to enlist the help of a friend. Even the simplest tasks required assistance; given my tendency to expect the worst, I arrived in my companion's city six hours early. I was left wondering how to spend all that time! Six long hours at night with no chance to sleep. The hours felt like chains dragging on my body. I spent most of the time walking, with moments standing or sitting while waiting. The waiting drained both my spirit and body. I arrived in Manhattan to a rainy, cold evening, with night still ahead of me and long hours of waiting until our meeting. The city was filled with luxury, while I wandered through it, drenched and exhausted from the previous day, having had no sleep.
Yemenat
01-07-2025
- Health
- Yemenat
From My Diaries in America: A Conference and a Job Seeker
Holda is an activist interested in human rights and religious freedoms. She studied at a university in Hong Kong, China. She uses her platforms to raise awareness about issues of persecution and support those affected. I don't know much more about her than this information. She reached out to me through a short message on my phone. I didn't respond as I should have to her first message. I informed my friend to let her know that my priority was my treatment and recovery, and then we lost contact for a few weeks. My health was the most important thing. I waited over a month and twenty days until I could visit the doctor, followed by appointments, tests, and treatment for some of my complaints, while deferring the rest to an unspecified future. The treatment and care here for someone in a vulnerable position start with an outpatient clinic and end with the unknown. Between the clinic and the hospital, there are many appointments, and the wait can be long, requiring a lot of patience. In the meantime, my options are limited, and my condition does not allow me to endure much longer. There is a gap I cannot bridge; therefore, I decided to participate in the conference, hoping to find another option or a job that might alleviate my growing difficulties and depleting patience. The decision to attend was not without its audacity. If I had weighed it with caution and precision, I would not have participated, nor would I have sought an option to ease my situation. My participation felt like embarking on a journey without provisions or water—traveling on a rainy day on a slippery road, with low visibility, accompanied by anxiety, uncertainties, and precautions. The challenges are many: the language barrier, the translator, financial constraints, and the feeling of alienation in a country I am visiting for the first time. The difficulty of navigating my way around and other details means that any mistake could lead to further confusion and loss, as well as regret from missing appointments. I imagined that my audacity in agreeing to participate was akin to the story of that kind Somali man who, under the pressure of needing work, claimed to know every skill and craft. Whenever they asked him to do something, he would respond with a broken phrase: 'You ask once, I know.' I gathered my courage and proceeded with my intention, and it was acceptable to seek help from a friend to overcome the challenges hindering my progress. * * * I began searching my phone for the contact information of Dr. Tarek Al-Amry, an American citizen and the son of a former member of the Yemeni Parliament. Our friendship was still limited and relatively new, but what encouraged me to reach out for help was that he had previously offered assistance if I ever needed to apply for political asylum in America. I told myself I didn't want asylum, but I would try to see if he could help me with something lighter: accompanying me and assisting me at the conference. I contacted him by phone, but he informed me that he was busy. However, he promised to find someone to take over the task in his place. After an hour, he informed me that Omar Al-Saadi, a businessman also holding American citizenship, resides in Manhattan and would accompany me for translation and assist me at the conference, especially since the invitation permitted him to do so. This news delighted me. Moreover, he mentioned that he would cover any expenses I might incur. I was pleased with this but told him that I only needed his help with travel and assistance, and that I did not require financial support. I coordinated with Holda, one of the conference organizers, and through her, we managed to overcome some obstacles and minor details until we arrived in Washington and entered the conference hall. I felt Holda's warm welcome; her kindness, gentleness, and attentiveness throughout the conference were truly remarkable. She had a captivating charisma and vibrant energy. She was beautiful, but her spirit was even more beautiful. I was delighted when she attempted to speak to me in a few Arabic phrases. During the first break in the conference hall, she introduced me to another participant named Fernanda San Martin. Her introduction was quite brief, but I later learned that she is a prominent figure in the field of human rights, serving as the director of the International Parliamentarians for Freedom of Religion or Belief. She is a former member of the Bolivian Parliament, a law professor, a legislative drafting expert, a lawyer, and a former politician actively promoting human rights through her work with parliamentarians and international organizations. In her brief introduction, she mentioned that she runs an organization with over 400 employees working in various countries around the world, and she offered me a position in that organization. I was surprised by the offer and immediately responded with a preliminary agreement, saying, 'I would be delighted.' Happiness overwhelmed me like a waterfall of joy, even though I didn't know many of the details that could change the situation and my circumstances.
