Conservation in Thula (Aga Khan Trust) from Joe Sheffer on Vimeo.

This article was printed in the Guardian on Wednesday 13th March 2013

It’s been five years since Nujood Ali became known as the world’s youngest divorcee after escaping the man who bought her as a child bride aged nine.

The story of Nujood’s marriage and subsequent court victory was turned into a bestselling book, bringing hope to thousands of Yemeni brides forced into marriages they are too young to understand or consent to.

The royalties from I Am Nujood, Age 10 and Divorced were supposed to pay for the girl’s schooling and allow her to follow her ambition to become a lawyer. Instead, Nujood says, the money has been squandered by her father – who has now sold her younger sister to a man twice her age.

“My father has spent all the money on getting married twice again,” she says, fidgeting nervously, her fingers stained with henna.

Now 15, she still finds it difficult to talk about her marriage and ex-husband. “He now has four wives, 14 children and learnt nothing from my experience. He gives me between $20 [£13] and $30 a month for pocket money.”

Nujood’s ordeal began when she was married off by her father at nine, for a dowry of a little more than $750, after her future husband, Faez Ali Thamer, promised not to have sex with her “before the year after she has her first period” – as required by law in Yemen.

But what followed was a cycle of sexual and physical abuse, starting on her wedding night.

Two months later, during a visit back to her family home, she took the unprecedented step of running away and asking a court for a divorce on grounds of abuse.

The case was the first of its kind in Yemen and attracted so much attention that the court’s security described the hearing as a “mob scene”. Both Nujood’s father and husband were briefly imprisoned during proceedings, after colluding to lie to the court about the girl’s age.

The book of Nujood’s story was ghostwritten by Delphine Minoui and published in France. It was translated into 16 languages and sold in 35 countries.

Publishers Michel Lafon agreed to pay her father, Ali Mohammed al-Ahdel, $1,000 a month until she was 18 to support her upbringing. It also bought a large house for the family in Sana’a, and set up a fund paid directly to a school for her education.

But Nujood says she has been forced out of the home and has not received any of the money being paid to her father. She said her father had rented the first floor of the house to another family, and moved his new wife into the second. “I’ve been asked to leave and have to stay in my older brother’s cramped house.”

Listening carefully in the corner of the room is Haifa Ali, Nujood’s younger sister, who recently became engaged to a man she does not know.

“I don’t want to get married,” Haifa says. “I’m very scared, because the [dowry] money has already been paid and I want to continue my education.”

Haifa is cut short by Nujood, her anger overcoming her shyness. “I won’t let it happen to her,” she says. “I will speak to as many journalists and lawyers as possible about this. It is illegal.”

The girls’ father refused to speak to the Guardian, but the book’s publishers say they are trying to rectify the situation. “We are unable to pay Nujood directly legally in Yemen due to the law and it is at times exceptionally difficult to know what is going on from France,” said Margaux Mersie of Michel Lafon.

“The problem is that al-Ahdel’s position is upheld in Yemeni law. There are plenty of judges who support him and are unsympathetic [to Nujood].”

Nujood’s attitude is best summed up by her reaction to being granted a divorce. She still wishes to study in England and become a lawyer.

“Compared to dreams, reality can be cruel,” she said. “But it can also come up with beautiful surprises.”

Yemen Cyclists – Global Post from Joe Sheffer on Vimeo.

Two different edits on a story which really seems to have touched and resonated with people across the world. The Yemen cyclists story shows that people who read newspapers aren’t just interested in bleeding, misery and suffering. They are interested in colour, life and stories that they can relate to. The response i’ve had from the Yemen cyclists story has been immense and i’ll continue to follow Yusuf, Tariq, Coach al-Riashi in the future.

Yemen cyclists news package for Radio Netherland’s Arabic service. Voiced by Yemeni Journalist Khaled Taher.

Arabic language news piece for Radio Netherlands Worldwide on “Al-Zaeem’s” new museum.

Full image set here.

Way back in April 2012 I wrote about Ali Khousrof, the country’s judo champion who had been wounded in the Arab spring. Ali had taken to the streets to protest against the regime of Ali Abdullah Saleh despite his training schedule for the London 2012 Olympics and been shot in the hip, ruining years of conditioning, training and costing him any hope of a medal. When I met him, he had pretty much recovered from his wounds and had just started training again. It was a wonderful story about hope, struggle and determination. Yet in reality his coaches confided in me that they didn’t actually think that Ali would qualify for the games thanks to the amount of time out he had spent out, (although this is something that I omitted from my original story in the Guardian!) Personally I felt that there was something in Ali which made me believe and for me that was enough.

And thankfully Ali did qualify and I met him and his coach, looking slightly bewildered in Stratford in August outside the Olympic park.

Today in what will have been a remarkable 18 months Ali got married. I think taking part in a revolution, getting shot, recovering, competing at the Olympics, finishing university and getting married isn’t a bad list of achievements for a little under a year and a half. I always like staying in contact with people I meet whilst working on my stories, but Ali is perhaps the most special person I’ve met during my time in Yemen. I’ve often said that if there were a million people Ali Khousrofs in Yemen, then many of the country’s problems would be solved overnight. He is a young man whose dignity, integrity and humbleness allows him to span Yemeni society and the huge number of guests at his wedding showed that. Ali’s training partners, wrestlers with bruised faces and battered ears, Yemeni sportspeople of all colours, the Yemen cyclists squad, armed tribesmen from Beni Matar, family members, friends from college, western journalists, colleagues from Ali’s English institute all came together to celebrate as one. The atmosphere was electric.

This article was published in The Guardian on Monday 4th January 2013.

In a cage built from lengths of rusting steel trellis, six African lionesses sit on the concrete floor. The bare skull of a donkey lies at the back of the cell as two male lions pace up and down patrolling their shared six metres of territory.

A village on Yemen’s scorched Tihama plain is an incongruous home for African lions. Set back several miles from the nearest road and reached by a rough network of sandy paths and thorny gorse bushes, it is home to one of Yemen’s newest and most unlikely businesses.

Lion breeding in Yemen seems as improbable a venture as salmon fishing. But rampant demand for exotic pets from collectors in the wealthy Gulf states has made this exercise in animal husbandry suddenly profitable.

Inside the compound, Hassan Bari proudly displays his merchandise. The eight lions were bought as juveniles just over four years ago, and Bari has recouped his initial investment from a first batch of captive-bred cubs. All six of his lionesses are pregnant, and he expects his next cubs to be available within a fortnight.

“I expect most of the cubs will be sold within days,” he says “There is a big demand for these animals, and often individuals will buy as many as I have on offer.”
Lion farm in Yemen Bari has six female and two male African lions. Photograph: Joe Sheffer for the Guardian

With the value of lion cubs, and those of other big cats, reaching 50,000 Saudi riyals (£8,400) apiece, animal trafficking represents an enormous opportunity to people in one of Yemen’s poorest regions. A loose network has sprung up, trading not just lions but also cheetahs, leopards, gazelles, hyenas and monkeys.

The majority are bound for Saudi Arabia, Qatar and the Emirates. The animals will end up in private collections and homes as trophy pets and status symbols.

The lucrative business is turning the coastal road along Yemen’s west coast into a wildlife superhighway thanks to the easy access it offers to the porous border with Saudi Arabia.

The director of Born Free Foundation’s project in Ethiopia, Stephen Brend, says the trade is “extensive, lucrative and with a low risk of prosecution. That’s probably why the trade is flourishing. This is having a devastating effect on wildlife populations in the region and also impacts on civil society.”
Lion farm in Yemen Bari bought the lions as juveniles just over four years ago. Photograph: Tarim Kennedy for the Guardian

He says wildlife smuggling is being likened to the blood diamond trade because of its links with other cross-border criminal activities.

“A study by the UN office on drugs and crime suggests there are strong links between the illegal shipment of guns, people, drugs and wildlife. Hence, it seems the animals are just another victim of lawlessness.”

Bari bought his lion cubs from a dealer who landed on a small beach on the Bab-el-Mandeb, at the mouth of the Red Sea. ” I think that they originated in Ethiopia and were shipped from Somaliland,” he says.

He acknowledges that his business is mumnor, or forbidden, but says he is not worried about being caught.

David Stanton, who heads an NGO dedicated to protecting Arabian leopards in Yemen, says: “There is a feeling that wildlife crime is not really a crime but is almost universal. Yemenis who are involved in the wildlife trade probably generally know that what they are doing is illegal, but I doubt that many of them feel that it is unethical or immoral.

“People in this trade look at the bottom line, so if four out of five baby cheetahs die in transit, they see this as an economic problem for them rather than as something that is inherently wrong.”

It is estimated that 60-70% of animals trafficked towards the Gulf states die in transit, including upwards of 300 cheetah cubs each year.

Will Travers, one of founding members of the Born Free Foundation, says: “The shipping of big cats – captive-bred or wild – out of the horn of Africa into the Middle East and potentially further afield is unacceptable.

“Firstly, it’s a trade that threatens species that are already struggling for survival. Secondly, it’s creating a welfare nightmare. Thirdly, it puts money into regions where lawlessness, banditry and security issues are of global concern.”

Additional reporting by Tarim Kennedy

This is the first of my series of coverage about a long investigation i’ve been working on about animal smuggling from the horn of Africa to Yemen; this is just a taster of things to come.

When I first filed my audio for RTE with this story, Sinaed who edits the World Report program came back to me to query how a small boy could be cradling a wild gazelle. I told her I had seen it with my own two eyes; the above image is a picture of the smuggler’s son I talk about in my piece. Its one of my favourite images i’ve taken so far in Yemen.

Over the last few weeks i’ve had a few people tweeting in my direction, asking why I live in Yemen.

It’s an honest question, yet my honest answer is that I don’t know and its something i’ve thought about for a long time. The world’s media doesn’t care hugely about the country. An interest exists in terrorism and security related stories stemming from the Arabian Peninsula, but its very difficult to actually offer any real reportage on events involving Al Qaeda. In fact I could probably offer as much of an educated opinion on events in the badlands of Yemen as a determined observer sat in London.

The vast majority of Yemen stories sadly break from Washington, leaked by embassies, diplomats and spooks to journalists on “defence desks” of the world’s great newspapers. Arab officialdom’s obsession with the power of television, has also vastly limited the amount of camera gear I can haul into the country which means my video work has suffered terribly; the vague lingering thought that I might be subject to deportation at any moment also menaces my mind during lulls in the day.

On top of that, the security situation isn’t great (A trip to the cash machine has begun to feel vaguely like a game of kidnapping Russian Roulette), I complain bitterly about my plumbing, my electricity, the speed of the internet and the food. I’ve lost very good friends to my determination to make a base here and on trips home often promise the rest of my beleaguered friends that I just need to make “one more trip” to tidy some loose ends. Then i’ll be home with them and be more responsible. Sometimes I even find myself bitching a little too bitterly about some of the eccentricities which make Yemeni people so kind and endearing.

Then last night, with a cheek stuffed full of Qat I sat on top of a friends roof. A rare silence hung over the Old City and I enjoyed a fifteen minutes of quiet ecstasy. I had one of the moments which reminded me why I wasn’t sat under a set of fluorescent tubes somewhere in Farringdon, watching the rain pitter patter on the office window whilst eating yet another fucking pret-a-manger sandwich. I was probably slightly flying from the mushy green wad of amphetamine in my cheeks, but it didn’t matter all the same.

So yes @lennon8t2 I am always looking over my shoulder and no to the others I’m not a lunatic or on a mission to be martyred. But hopefully, the above will serve as some explanation.