From the Special Envoy’s Office to What’s Ahead

I’ve just concluded nearly a year working as a Program Officer at the UN Special Envoy for Yemen office, under the leadership of Hans Grundberg. It was a demanding and formative experience, made richer by working closely with my supervisor, the courageous Libyan human rights defender Zahra Langhi. Grateful for the experience, the colleagues, and the opportunity to contribute during an important period for Yemen.

Since the appointment of the first UN envoy for Yemen in 2012, several envoys have taken on this demanding mandate. As a journalist, I spent years closely covering their work. That perspective deepened in 2018, when I served as a fellow at the UN Security Council—an opportunity to observe firsthand how global decisions are shaped, negotiated, and often diluted behind closed doors.

Working under the leadership of Swedish diplomat Hans Grundberg was a particularly meaningful experience. As a Swedish citizen, I shared a cultural frame of reference that helped me better understand his leadership style, diplomatic instincts, and approach to mediation.

Working at the Special Envoy’s Office during one of the most critical moments for Yemen, I sought each day to translate Yemeni realities into policy language—without dulling their urgency. Above all, I worked to expose the cost of inaction: the price Yemenis continue to pay when diplomacy stalls and accountability fades.

I do not see human rights advocacy, external critique/analysis, and working from within institutions as contradictory paths, but as complementary ones. My journey—from journalism to formal policy spaces—has shown me that while global institutions offer real opportunities to influence decision-making, they must remain closely connected to human realities. Even the most well-intentioned systems risk becoming bureaucratic and detached if they are not continually grounded in people’s lived experiences and reminded of the human cost of silence.

As I look ahead, I’m eager to apply these lessons in new opportunities and roles that value principled analysis and impact. 

Yemen in 2026: Rivalries and Ruptures

ICDI - After more than a decade of war, Yemen stands as an example of a profound failure of strategy and reason by domestic leadership, regional intervention, and international diplomacy. In 2025, Yemen’s war became increasingly entangled with broader Middle East geopolitical recalibrations — especially around Red Sea security and changing Gulf relations — which have posed major challenges for diplomacy.

The end of 2025 marked a decisive rupture in the partnership in Yemen between Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates (UAE), as years of concealed rivalry gave way to open political and military confrontation. Yemen’s conflict pits the Iran-backed Houthi armed group, which controls much of the north after toppling the internationally recognized government, against a fractured, Saudi-supported internationally recognized government located in the south, with both sides fighting for control over the Yemeni state. Complicating this divide, the UAE has long backed the separatist Southern Transitional Council (STC), seeking autonomy or independence for southern Yemen. Saudi Arabia’s direct intervention against the UAE-backed STC in eastern Yemen last December signaled a broader escalation, with Riyadh now actively moving to curb and roll back Emirati influence across the Red Sea and the Horn of Africa. Saudi Arabia now views Abu Dhabi’s proxy-based expansion as a direct threat to its strategic security belt. In parallel, Saudi Arabia has moved to reclaim stewardship over the southern issue, shifting it from an Emirati-managed proxy arena to a Saudi-supervised political track centered on dialogue by Riyadh convening southern leaders. This breakdown of relations between Riyadh and Abu Dhabi is almost certainly going to be a defining factor shaping Yemen’s conflict dynamics in 2026.

Three factors that could shape the conflict in 2026

It is difficult to predict with confidence what Yemen’s trajectory will be in 2026. Still, a few dynamics are likely to weigh more heavily than others: a conflict that remains stuck in a stalemate and fragmentation, deeper regional entanglements, and the humanitarian fallout of both. There is little indication that the war will move beyond this impasse. If anything, division itself now seems to function as the organizing principle of Yemen’s political landscape. With the Houthis firmly entrenched in the north and the anti-Houthi camp increasingly fractured across the south and east, it is hard to see what incentives exist for compromise rather than continued entrenchment.

The second uncertainty lies in regional geopolitics. With Red Sea security concerns, intensifying Gulf rivalries, and the possibility of a United States military strike on Iran, all converging, Yemen risks being treated as a secondary arena in wider strategic contests. Saudi Arabia’s pursuit of de-escalation in Yemen usually fails to translate into diplomatic engagement. At the same time, the proxy forces that the UAE has built in the south will not simply dissolve overnight. In this context, the Houthis may seek to exploit the situation by launching military offensives in areas they aim to expand. Whether they can do so, however, remains an open question, hinging largely on the level of support they continue to receive from Iran — and on Iran’s own fate should a US military confrontation materialize.

The final—and most unsettling—question is how long Yemen’s humanitarian catastrophe can continue to sit on the political sidelines. More than half of the population, an estimated 19.5 million people, now depend on humanitarian assistance, including 4.8 million internally displaced persons and over 61,000 refugees and asylum seekers. Yet even at this scale, the crisis no longer provokes urgency among donors, international institutions, or regional mediators. Aid is increasingly constrained and politicized through funding cuts, obstruction of aid, Houthis’ detentions of civil society and UN agency workers, donor conditionality, and access restrictions, while economic collapse and institutional decay deepen in the background. Ordinary Yemenis pay the price, day after day. And yet, history shows that desperation is rarely passive. One day, the pressure it creates may spill over in ways that no strategy, no negotiation, can contain.

Possible scenarios

These three dynamics create a context in which a range of outcomes is possible. How the conflict unfolds will depend on a number of moving parts: whether the Saudi-UAE rivalry escalates or stabilizes, whether the Houthis decide to push into new territory, and whether the international community steps in—or stays on the sidelines. Seen in this light, Yemen’s path over the coming year could follow two very different directions.

Scenario one: fragmentation vs stabilization

In the most optimistic scenario, Saudi Arabia manages to reassert itself as the dominant external broker in Yemen, reining in rival armed actors and nudging the fractured Presidential Leadership Council (PLC) toward at least a semblance of cohesion—a trajectory Riyadh has already begun to signal through its recent announcement of large-scale financial support for Yemen’s security and development sectors, particularly in southern areas previously dominated by UAE-backed forces.

A reduction in Emirati interference — whether due to shifting priorities or external pressure — would ease southern tensions and allow the council to exercise authority over its previously independent military units. In this scenario, the PLC would not suddenly transform into a fully functioning government, but it could begin to regain credibility, present a united front in negotiations with the Houthis, and establish clearer chains of command that make governance possible rather than purely reactive.

Yet even here, the gains would be fragile. Any stabilization would depend on Riyadh’s continued engagement, the council members’ willingness to subordinate personal ambitions, and the ability to balance external influence without appearing to cede sovereignty. Also, it depends on confronting Israel’s increasing entanglement in Gulf rivalries, aligning quietly with the UAE, and expanding its presence in the Red Sea and Horn of Africa — developments that Riyadh views as a strategic threat and factor in regional competition.

If all goes well, for the first time in years, Yemen could move from a state of pure paralysis to one where decisions are made, priorities set, and the country is at least minimally steered rather than drifting. It would not be a solution to Yemen’s deeper fractures, but a conditional stabilization that offers a space for peace talks.

Scenario two: entrenched fragmentation

The more likely — and more dangerous — scenario is one in which Saudi Arabia cannot fully assert control over southern armed groups, while the UAE quietly backs separatist and local forces in the south and east – a dynamic that risks escalating local violence and undermining the PLC’s authority — a pattern already evident in the large, recurrent pro-STC protests in Aden, which signal persistent popular legitimacy for the separatists despite Saudi-backed military gains.

In this trajectory, competition over territory, resources, and external patronage will intensify, particularly in regions such as Hadramout, where long-standing grievances are increasingly framed in autonomist or separatist terms. Fragmentation will become self-reinforcing, as armed groups resist any political settlement that threatens their economic lifelines or local dominance. National peace talks will likely stall, not only because of the Houthis, but because no unified counterpart exists on the other side. Frustrated by Saudi Arabia’s recent moves, the Houthis could respond with a military push toward areas they intend to advance into, framing Riyadh — not the UAE — as Yemen’s chief adversary. Houthi official, Mohammed al-Bukhaiti, has already accused Saudi Arabia of steering the war for its own strategic and territorial gain, manipulating regional actors, and placing its interests above Yemeni unity. While Houthis remain wary of the UAE and its ties to Israel, the Houthis portray Saudi actions as the greater threat — tools of a broader agenda serving American and Israeli ambitions under the veneer of religion.

In this context, Yemen drifts further toward a Libya- or Somalia-style model: a formally recognized government with shrinking authority, multiple competing power centers, and a conflict that no longer moves toward resolution.

Ultimately, 2026 is unlikely to be a year of resolution for Yemen. The question is not whether the war will end, but whether it will continue to be managed through fragmentation, external bargaining, and humanitarian containment. As regional actors recalibrate their priorities and Yemeni institutions remain hollowed out, Yemen risks slipping further into a conflict that no one is actively trying to win — or end. What happens next will depend less on new peace initiatives than on whether those with power, inside and outside Yemen, are willing to accept the costs of continued division as the status quo.

*This article was first written for and published on ICDI's website on 26 January. Original link is here. 

Women and Peacebuilding in Yemen

The following is a feature by Australia Assists, the Australian Government’s humanitarian civilian deployment program, about my work. The interview was done in June 2025 during my former work with the Office of the UN Special Envoy for Yemen in Amman. The original link to the feature is here. 

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Afrah supports the advancement of women and peacebuilding in Yemen, championing women’s leadership in inclusive peace processes through her Australia Assists deployment.

Growing Up in Sana’a

Growing up in Sana’a, the capital city of Yemen, Afrah became deeply aware of the challenges women faced in her community. As a young child, she had already witnessed the everyday realities of gender-based discrimination.

As a young girl, Afrah witnessed her mother dedicate 5 years of her life to secure a divorce in a system where Yemen’s Personal Status Laws allows men to end a marriage alone, but forces women to seek judicial approval.

‘I gained a deeper understanding of the gender disparities embedded in Yemen’s Personal Status Laws,’ recalled Afrah. ‘My mother’s struggle to secure a divorce illustrated the challenges many Yemeni women encounter in accessing justice.’

This life-changing experience and the realities she faced of gender discrimination sparked her lifelong passion for equality and justice. This passion was further ignited during the Arab Spring and has now led to supporting the United Nations Office of the Special Adviser to the UN Secretary-General on Yemen (OSEGY) deployed through Australia Assists.

From Blogging to Advocacy

In the heat of the Arab Spring, Afrah started sharing her thoughts through her personal blog. As thousands of Yemeni people took to the streets to demand a better Yemen, Afrah’s words found an online audience that resonated within Yemen and across the Middle East. This sparked the moment when her writing became a powerful platform for Yemeni advocacy, where she helped shine a light on the resilience and struggles of Yemeni women.

‘I recognised the responsibility of being an emerging voice for Yemeni women on a global stage,’ said Afrah. ‘It was a unique opportunity that shed light on their resilience, struggles, and contributions… it also deepened my commitment to advocating for gender equality and women’s rights in Yemen.’

After more than a decade of conflict, Yemen remains in a multi-faceted humanitarian crisis, with nearly 20 million people (roughly 60% of the population) requiring urgent humanitarian assistance this year alone. Women and girls are facing the brunt of it. ‘This dire situation is exacerbated by prolonged conflict, economic collapse, and climate-induced disasters… while access to essential services, such as healthcare, education and clean water remains severely limited,’ noted Afrah.

Afrah’s Life Mission

For Afrah, her work is her “life mission”, reflecting a deep and personal commitment to advancing human rights, particularly women’s rights, in Yemen and beyond. Today, as a Programme Officer within the Inclusion Unit at OSEGY, she is helping to advance the Women, Peace and Security (WPS) agenda, where women’s voices are fully integrated into all aspects of the peace process. ‘Every decision I make, both professionally and personally, is aligned with these values, understanding that true peace is built on inclusivity and respect for all.’

In her deployment, she helps design and deliver initiatives that push for women’s participation in the peacebuilding process for Yemen – using her expertise in advocacy, research and partnership building. ‘Each day brings a blend of strategic planning, program oversight, stakeholder engagement and communication efforts,’ explains Afrah.

Women At the Centre of Peacebuilding

Historically, women have been excluded from peacebuilding processes. For Afrah and the broader OSEGY mandate, however, women’s involvement in peacebuilding is not optional – it is essential.

‘Women are essential to the process of building sustainable peace, as they bring unique perspectives and solutions that are critical for addressing the root causes of conflict and fostering long-term stability,’ noted Afrah. ‘Women are central to social cohesion in their communities, and their involvement ensures that peace agreements are more comprehensive, inclusive, and resilient.’

Despite the dire humanitarian situation in Yemen, Afrah remains steadfast.

She draws upon the strength and resilience of the countless activists and Yemeni women who continue to fight for a better future. ‘The strength and determination of Yemeni women, who continue to fight for basic rights in a context of extreme adversity, give me faith that a better future is possible.’

Most importantly, she also draws inspiration from those closest to her. ‘What keeps me going is the deep sense of responsibility I feel towards my mother, cousins, relatives, friends, and relatives of my friends all inside Yemen,’ said Afrah. ‘I feel a deep sense of responsibility towards those on the ground – especially the “forgotten women” of Yemen who bear the brunt of this conflict yet remain unheard.’

‘No matter how difficult this is, it’s worth it – because it holds the potential to create long-lasting impact.’ 

From Yemen to the World. Carrying Yemen's stories with me, always.

My article, “Ten Years After Saudi Arabia's Intervention in Yemen, There Is Only Irreparable Loss,” has been featured among Democracy in Exile’s Most Popular Articles of 2025.

Do you know what it means for a young woman from a humble neighborhood in Sana’a—حارة الرقاص—to see her work stand out alongside articles by Harvard- and Oxford-educated writers? Even now, I am still amazed. More than anything, it reaffirms my belief in the power and necessity of telling Yemen’s stories to the world.

I was inspired to write this piece after a gathering with Yemeni friends, when a mother pointed to her nine-year-old son and said:
“I gave birth to him in a hospital while coalition bombs were falling on the funeral hall. Remember that day? That’s when he was born.”

My heart breaks when I think of Yemen’s collective pain. And as I resist falling into despair, I carry that pain with me—and turn it into words. 

In Love with Writing

I see my life in fragments, scattered like pages torn from a book. I gather them up, read them in no particular order, and the through-line is always there: writing.

I was a child in Sana’a when I first understood that the world would not save me. I watched my mother fight battles she was destined to lose. A woman, wanting a divorce, trapped inside the machinery of Yemeni law—an apparatus built by men, for men, where women are nothing but footnotes. The discriminatory laws against women hindered my mother from having her freedom from her abusive partner. There was no justice for her. We all suffered. There was no escape. So I made my own. I wrote. Writing was my escape.

At fourteen, my journal became my confessional, my shield, my secret doorway into another world. A world where I could name things as they were. A world where I was not powerless. I wrote feverishly, obsessively, as if my life depended on it. Maybe it did.

Later, when it was time for me to go to college, everyone around me tried to make me choose another life. A reasonable life. A job in a bank, a degree in commerce, something stable, something practical. But what they didn’t understand—what they never understood—was that writing was not something I did. Writing was something I was.

I became a journalist. I fought for it. I fought my family. I fought the expectations of my culture. I fought during the 2011 revolution. I wrote when they told me to be silent. I wrote when it meant writing would lead me to a life in exile. I wrote when it meant losing everything I had known.

Even in Sweden, I kept writing. Through war, through pandemic, through solitude so deep it felt like drowning, I wrote. The words carried me forward. They placed me in rooms and panel discussions with

people who had studied at Harvard and Oxford, men and women who had walked smooth, untroubled paths to success, while I was just me, a young lady with a humble background. But none of that mattered. Writing was the great equalizer. Writing was the only passport I ever needed.

They gave me an international award for it once, by the Committee to Protect Journalists in New York. A beautiful, weighty thing. Recognition. Proof that the words I wrote mattered. But awards mean nothing. Not really. People tell me I’m a star. They look at me with admiration, with awe, as if I’ve transcended something.

But Yemen is the star.

I do not write about fashion, about fleeting pleasures, about things meant to dazzle and distract. I write about a people whose suffering is infinite. A people who bleed, who grieve, who endure.

My identity—half Yemeni, half Ethiopian—was supposed to be a liability. Something to be hidden, something to erase. But I wrote it into existence. I turned it into a strength. I wrote about my mother’s cancer, about the pain that lived in my bones, about every truth I was told not to speak.

And in the end, it was always the same: writing was the center. The anchor. The compass.

Everything else changes. Everything else slips through my fingers.

But writing remains.

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*This article was first written for Yemen Platform in February 2025.