Yemen

Mukalla, Yemen – At the Mukalla Creative Hub, a man in a black T-shirt leans over a desk to help a colleague with his project, while other men remain fixed on their laptop screens. Nearby women sit in ergonomic office chairs, writing or scrolling on their phones. On the other side of the space in Yemen’s coastal city of Mukalla, a sleek cafe-style counter stands at the entrance, while colourful armchairs are neatly arranged and occupied by a few people working among rows of computers.

What draws entrepreneurs, remote freelancers, and students here is not just the stylish setting or uninterrupted electricity, but something far more essential: fast, reliable Starlink satellite internet.

“Four Starlink devices power the space, delivering speeds of 100 to 150 Mbps and allowing users to stay constantly connected,” Hamzah Bakhdar, a digital freelancer who also works at the hub, told Al Jazeera.

In a country where war has devastated telecommunications, eroded salaries and cut off remote areas, Starlink is helping create a small but growing digital workforce of designers, developers, teachers, and freelancers who can now work for clients abroad and earn far more than Yemen’s crumbling local economy would otherwise allow.

Internet access in Yemen has also been weaponised, with buried land cables sometimes cut, leaving parts of the country abruptly disconnected. The Houthi rebels, who are based in the Yemeni capital Sanaa and have fought the internationally recognised government since 2014, control the country’s major internet providers. That allows them to block websites they view as linked to their opponents inside and outside the country, including key platforms used by tech developers and remote workers.

The arrival of Starlink satellite internet has provided an alternative, allowing people to bypass the Houthis’ tight grip on telecommunications and stay online even in remote areas.

Mohammed Helmi, a video editor and motion graphics designer, was juggling projects for three clients in Yemen, Saudi Arabia and the United States. Thanks to the fast internet at the cafe, he no longer worries about losing connection or missing deadlines, problems he said repeatedly disrupted his work in the past.

“In the past, when I downloaded files to my laptop, it would stop as soon as my data ran out,” Helmi, a young man with a thin moustache, told Al Jazeera at the cafe. “I had to buy another gigabyte and start the download all over again. Because of this, I often had to turn down projects.”

Control over the internet

Starlink is operated by billionaire Elon Musk’s SpaceX company, and delivers internet by linking a ground dish to low-orbit satellites owned and operated by the company.

While other satellite internet companies exist, and others are quickly entering the space, Starlink is the only low-orbit satellite internet service legally available in Yemen after the internationally recognised government signed an agreement with the company in September 2024.

But it’s not for everyone.

The kits cost about $500, a price that remains unaffordable for the vast majority of Yemenis, living in one of the poorest countries in the world, where more than 80 percent of people live below the poverty line.

Owning a dish is therefore still a distant dream for many Yemenis desperate to get online.

University students, like Mariam, a student at Hadramout University, says that even buying internet vouchers from local providers who resell Starlink access is beyond her reach – let alone purchasing a device herself.

“People are using vouchers because they cannot afford Starlink devices, whose prices are very high,” Mariam, who preferred to be identified only by her first name, told Al Jazeera.

The Houthis have also reacted aggressively to the arrival of Starlink, launching a campaign warning people against using the service and threatening legal action against anyone found in possession of the device.

They have accused the company of serving as a “US espionage agent” and said it posed “a major threat to national security”. Experts have worried that data gathered over Starlink’s internet service could be used for “intelligence gathering and economic exploitation“.

There are also concerns internationally over the concentration of satellite internet services and infrastructure in the hands of Starlink, particularly in light of Musk’s ownership, with the South African-born billionaire increasingly associating himself with far-right causes in the United States and Europe.

Connecting Yemen’s remote areas

But despite Houthi threats and the high cost of the devices by Yemeni standards, Starlink has spread across the country, reaching areas that had long been isolated.

Omer Banabelah, a mobile app developer, said that before Starlink arrived, a visit to his home village in Hadramout’s countryside meant disappearing from the digital world altogether. He could not make a phone call, let alone connect to the internet, leaving him anxious that clients would move on when their messages went unanswered. With Starlink now available in rural parts of the province, Banabelah said he no longer fears losing work every time he travels.

“I can reply to their messages anytime, from anywhere,” he told Al Jazeera. “Work that takes 10 minutes with Starlink could take an entire day without it.”

Similarly, Yemeni teachers, struggling with poor and delayed salaries that have stagnated for years, have also benefited from the spread of the internet service, which has allowed them to offer uninterrupted online classes and earn badly needed extra income.

Raja al-Dubae, a school director in Taiz, told Al Jazeera that her school began offering online classes based on the Yemeni curriculum to Yemeni students living abroad in the United Arab Emirates, Saudi Arabia, Egypt and China in 2023. It started with just 50 students, with teachers connecting through local networks.

But when internet traffic surged in the densely populated city each afternoon, the connections would collapse, forcing teachers to abandon classes mid-session.

“Teachers were often disconnected from their students, and by the time the internet stabilised, the next class had already begun, leaving them frustrated and unable to finish their lessons,” she said.

Al-Dubae said she initially rejected her nephew’s proposal to buy Starlink because of the high upfront cost, but now regrets the delay. Since installing the service, the number of students has climbed to more than 200, revenues have grown, and teachers have begun earning better additional pay.

“With Starlink, the internet is very fast and reaches every corner of the school,” she said. “Teachers no longer disconnect from their students. I never imagined it would make such a difference. Videos load quickly, we no longer turn away new applicants, and our reputation for fast internet has spread.”

For Yemenis who have grown used to Starlink’s high-speed internet, and the better incomes and business opportunities it has helped create, the worst-case scenario is a return to the slow, unreliable service of local networks.

“Go back to the headache of local networks? Perish the thought. We hope the service will continue to improve,” al-Dubae said, scoffing at the idea of reverting to local internet providers.

Helmi reacted similarly. “If Starlink were cut off, I would be devastated and forced back into the local market, which cannot cover my expenses or living costs,” he said, shifting in his seat and smiling at the thought. “I would need to take on three or four jobs just to match what I earn from a single project from abroad.”

Sanaa, Yemen – It was August 2023, and Enaya Dastor was reading a school textbook while also keeping an eye on her goats as they grazed near her village, Jabal Habashy, in central Yemen’s Taiz governorate.

Whenever the livestock moved away, the then-13-year-old would walk or run to bring them back to the pasture near her house.

That afternoon, she was following them as usual when an explosion rang out.

A landmine had detonated beneath her.

“People gathered around me after the blast, and I was taken to the hospital immediately. It was a horrible moment, ” Dastor told Al Jazeera. Surgeons were forced to amputate her left leg, leaving her with a lifelong disability.

The incident took place more than a year after fighting between Yemen’s government and Houthi forces largely stopped, following a ceasefire in April 2022.

But landmines left behind on former battlefields and front lines continue to kill and injure Yemenis.

The hidden risks have turned fields, roads, and villages into areas of ongoing danger. Landmines and other explosives have killed at least 339 children and injured 843 since the 2022 truce, according to Save the Children. The organisation found that nearly half of child casualties related to the conflict were due to landmines and explosive remnants of war.

‘Sleeping killers’

The parties to Yemen’s conflict planted thousands of mines during the civil war, which began in 2014.

Two months before Dastor’s incident, a boy in a nearby village had stepped on a landmine. One of the boy’s legs was amputated in the explosion, she told Al Jazeera.

“Landmines are sleeping killers, waiting for the innocents to step on them or move them without caution. That is how they wake up to shed blood and take human souls,” said Dastor.

“I used to go with other girls to the pasture. We grazed the cattle and play for hours. We were not aware of the danger, and we did not know when these deadly objects were planted,” she added.

After the landmine explosion took her leg, her family and others fled the village, which had previously been on a front line.

To date, Dastor’s family has not returned. They now live in the city of Taiz.

“I do not want to see another child harmed or hear another landmine explosion. I loathe walking on the soil under which mines were planted,” she said.

In the first half of 2025 alone, 107 civilians were killed or injured, most of them children, according to Save the Children. Included in that number are five children who were killed while playing football on a dirt field in Taiz.

Lost hope

From 2015 through 2021, ground fighting was brutal, and warplanes continuously bombed across Yemen, killing and injuring thousands of civilians.

The landmines have added a lasting layer of danger. A study carried out in 2022 by Yemeni human rights groups found that 534 children and 177 women were killed by mines between April 2014 and March 2022.

In addition, 854 children, 255 women, and 147 elderly people were injured during the same period in 17 Yemeni provinces, with the heavily fought-over Taiz recording the highest number.

In 2018, Mohammed Mustafa lost his left leg in a landmine explosion in Taiz’s Maqbna district. He was only 20 years old. Eight years on, he can still recall the details of that moment.

“I stepped on a landmine when I was walking in a mountainous area at sunset time. After the blast, I looked towards my feet, and I found my left leg was gone,” he told Al Jazeera.

Mustafa was in a rural area with no hospitals nearby. He had to travel five hours by ambulance to the city of Taiz, and the distance he covered to reach a healthcare centre added to his pain.

“I fainted repeatedly on the way to Taiz city. The next day, I woke up in the hospital, and saw my leg amputated up to the knee,” he said.

With support from family, relatives and friends, he recovered. Mustafa is now a member of the Yemeni Amputee Football Federation, a father, and a small business owner.

“My family and friends stood by me, lifted my morale, and accompanied me on outings in the city to help me forget my pain and worry. I realised I was not alone,” he said.

De-mining challenges

Efforts to remove landmines from many areas in Yemen continue. But totally ridding the country of the problem remains complex, particularly as no final deal has been agreed upon to end the war.

Project Masam, a de-mining team funded and initiated by Saudi Arabia, said in a statement in March that, since the project’s launch in July 2018, a total of 549,452 mines, unexploded ordnance, and improvised explosive devices (IEDs) had been removed by March 20, 2026.

During the same period, the project’s teams cleared explosives from 7,799 hectares (19,272 acres) in Yemen. Similarly, the Danish Refugee Council (DRC) said early this month it has cleared more than 23,302 square metres (250,820sq ft) of Yemeni land from mines and explosive remnants of war.

Adel Dashela, a Yemeni researcher and non-resident fellow at the MESA Global Academy, focusing on conflict and peace building studies, said that many factors make the de-mining process challenging.

“The mines have been planted indiscriminately in different areas, and some of the territories are under the control of different armed groups, which makes them inaccessible to de-miners,” Dashela told Al Jazeera.

“Other challenges facing the de-mining process in Yemen include the lack of clear maps and the lack of qualified local personnel to handle these mines effectively. There is also a shortage of government’s modern equipment for detecting these devices and explosives,” he added.

Dashela noted that flash floods, such as those Yemen experienced in August 2025, sweep away explosives from one area to another, complicating the clearance process and exposing more people to further risks.

This means many more Yemenis will likely suffer.

The loss of a limb might bring lasting sorrow to landmine survivors, but some, like Dastor, are determined not to dwell on the past. She is focusing on the future.

“Today, I am in tenth grade, and I will finish high school in two years,” she said. “After that, I will enrol in law college and will graduate as a lawyer. I want to defend those who face injustice.”

“The injury has changed how I move or walk, and separated my family from our home,” she said. “But it cannot disable my mind or stop my dreams.”

Mukalla, Yemen – The Yemeni government’s measures to curb the devaluation of the Yemeni riyal have finally borne fruit, but they have created another problem: A severe liquidity crunch.

The government’s central bank, based in the southern city of Aden, has shut down unauthorised exchange firms it says were involved in currency speculation, centralised internal remittances under a controlled system, and formed a committee to oversee imports and provide traders with hard currency.

These measures have helped curb the riyal’s freefall, from about 2,900 to the United States dollar months ago to about 1,500 today, a move that was initially welcomed. But the gains have been short-lived, as public frustration has grown over a worsening shortage of cash in riyals.

People across government-controlled cities such as Aden, Taiz, Mukalla and others have said they are facing an unprecedented shortage of Yemeni riyals in the market. Many, particularly those holding US dollars or Saudi riyals, said local banks and exchange firms are refusing to convert foreign currency, or are limiting daily exchanges to as little as 50 Saudi riyals per person, citing a shortage of local cash.

This has left many Yemenis unable to access cash or use their savings in hard currency at a time of mounting economic pressure, paralysing businesses and giving rise to a black market where traders exchange foreign currency at more unfavourable rates to the customer.

Businesses grind to a halt

Mohammed Omer, who runs a small grocery shop in Mukalla, said he has spent hours crisscrossing the city’s exchange firms trying to convert a few hundred Saudi riyals he received from customers. “I’ve gone from one exchange to another, and they refuse to exchange more than 50 riyals,” said Omer, a man in his early 50s with a salt-and-pepper goatee. “It’s a waste of time and effort – I’ve had to close my shop.”

Yemen has endured an economic meltdown for more than a decade, stemming from a war between the Saudi-backed government and the Iran-aligned Houthis that has killed thousands and displaced millions.

Alongside the fighting on the battlefield, the warring sides have targeted each other’s main sources of revenue, leaving both the Houthis and the government strapped for cash, struggling to pay public-sector salaries and fund basic services in areas under their control.

At a board meeting in March, the Central Bank in Aden said it was aware of the cash shortage and had approved several unspecified “short- and long-term” measures to address the problem, noting that it is pursuing “conservative precautionary policies” to stabilise the riyal and curb inflationary pressures.

Government employees have also complained that the cash-strapped Yemeni government is paying salaries in low-denomination banknotes – mainly 100 riyals – forcing them to carry their wages in bags.

Munif Ali, a government employee in Lahj, took to Facebook to express his frustration, posting a video of himself sitting beside large, tightly packed bundles of 100- and 200-riyal notes that he said he received from the central bank. Munif, like many Yemenis on social media, said traders are refusing to accept large quantities of low-value notes. “Merchants are refusing to recognise this,” Munif said, referring to the stacks of 100- and 200-riyal notes in front of him. “Legal action should be taken against them.”

People who have kept their savings in Saudi riyals, the de facto currency in parts of Yemen, as well as Yemeni expatriates who send remittances in hard currency to their families, and soldiers paid in Saudi riyals, are among those most affected by the cash shortage.

Finding workarounds

To cope with cash shortages and the refusal of exchange firms to convert hard currency, Yemenis have adopted a range of workarounds. Some rely on trusted shopkeepers who allow delayed payments, while others exchange foreign currency at local groceries or supermarkets, often at lower, unfavourable rates. Banks and exchange firms have also introduced online money transfers, which have helped ease the crisis for some.

In rural areas, where internet access is limited and exchange shops are scarce, the problem is even more acute.

Saleh Omer, a resident of the Dawan district in Hadramout, told Al Jazeera that he received a remittance of 1,300 Saudi riyals sent from Saudi Arabia. But the exchange firm that handed him the money refused to convert it into Yemeni riyals, citing a lack of cash, and advised him to try nearby shops.

With the official exchange rate at about 410 riyals to the Saudi riyal, a shopkeeper agreed – after repeated appeals – to exchange only 500 riyals, and at a lower rate of 400. “I nearly begged the shopkeeper to exchange 500 riyals,” Saleh said. To convert the remaining 800 riyals, he added, he would have to return another day and go from one shop to another. “We are suffering greatly just to convert Saudi riyals into Yemeni riyals.”

Connections matter

Well-connected individuals are often better positioned than others to navigate the cash shortage, with some relying on personal contacts at banks and exchange firms to access cash. Khaled Omer, who runs a travel agency in Mukalla, said most of his business transactions are conducted in Saudi riyals or US dollars. But when he needs Yemeni riyals to pay employees or cover utilities, he turns to a trusted contact at a local exchange firm. “We work with a money exchange trader when we need riyals to pay salaries or meet basic expenses,” Khaled told Al Jazeera. “Exchange companies say they are facing a liquidity crunch.”

On social media, Yemenis say some patients have been denied medication as health facilities refuse to accept payment in Saudi riyals, while exchange firms decline to convert the currency into Yemeni riyals.

In Taiz, Hesham al-Samaan said a local hospital refused to accept Saudi riyals from a relative of a patient, forcing him to roam the city in search of someone to exchange the money to pay for treatment. “Is there any justice for the people, oh government? Will anyone hold accountable those who refuse to exchange currency and exploit people’s needs?” al-Samaan wrote in a Facebook post that drew dozens of comments from others reporting similar experiences, including being denied medical services because they did not have local currency.

For traders who import goods from Saudi Arabia, the cash crisis has become something of a blessing in disguise, as Saudi riyals are increasingly available at discounted rates. A clothing trader in Mukalla told Al Jazeera that he accepts payments in both Yemeni riyals and Saudi riyals, partly to attract customers and partly to secure the foreign currency he needs for his business. “As a businessman who sells goods in Yemeni riyals, I benefit from the cash shortage,” he said on condition of anonymity. “Exchange companies that need local currency I hold sell me Saudi riyals at lower rates.”