Sana’a, the capital of Yemen, is one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in the world. Its history stretches back over 2,500 years, with legends claiming it was founded by Shem, the son of Noah. Today, it stands as a hauntingly beautiful relic of the past, caught in the crossfire of modern geopolitical conflicts. The city’s labyrinthine alleyways, towering mud-brick skyscrapers, and bustling souks tell a story of resilience—but also of a nation torn apart by war, famine, and foreign intervention.
Old Sana’a is a living museum. Its iconic gingerbread-like houses, adorned with intricate white gypsum designs, have stood for centuries. The city’s Great Mosque, believed to have been built during the Prophet Muhammad’s lifetime, remains a spiritual anchor. Yet, this UNESCO World Heritage Site is under constant threat—not just from time, but from Saudi-led airstrikes and neglect.
In 2015, a Saudi bomb struck the Old City, damaging centuries-old structures. UNESCO condemned the attack, but the destruction continues. The war has turned Sana’a into a city of ghosts, where the echoes of history are drowned out by the roar of fighter jets.
Sana’a has always been a cultural crossroads. Its markets once brimmed with frankincense, myrrh, and spices from across the Arabian Peninsula and East Africa. The city was a key stop on the ancient Incense Route, linking the Mediterranean to the Indian Ocean.
Even today, the scent of qishr (Yemeni coffee) and freshly baked malooga bread fills the air in Bab al-Yemen, the city’s historic gate. But the war has disrupted trade, and many artisans have fled. The famous silver smiths and weavers who once thrived here now struggle to survive.
In 2014, the Houthi movement—a Zaidi Shia rebel group—seized control of Sana’a, ousting the internationally recognized government. This triggered a brutal Saudi-led military campaign, backed by the U.S. and UAE, to restore the exiled regime. What followed was one of the worst humanitarian crises of the 21st century.
Sana’a, once a bustling capital, now faces severe shortages of food, water, and medicine. The Saudi blockade has choked supply lines, leaving millions on the brink of starvation. Hospitals, schools, and historic sites have been reduced to rubble.
While the world’s attention shifts to Ukraine and Gaza, Yemen’s suffering continues unabated. The UN estimates that over 377,000 people have died since 2015, with more than half from indirect causes like disease and malnutrition. Sana’a, a city that has survived empires and dynasties, now fights for its very survival.
The irony is bitter: Saudi Arabia, which presents itself as the guardian of Islamic heritage, has bombed mosques, museums, and even a 12th-century citadel in Sana’a. Meanwhile, the U.S. and UK, while condemning Russia’s attacks on Ukrainian cities, continue to arm the Saudi coalition.
Despite the devastation, Sana’a’s spirit endures. Families still gather for iftar during Ramadan, children play in the rubble, and poets recite verses in dimly lit cafés. The city’s famous hammams (public baths) remain open, offering a rare escape from the hardships of war.
Women, in particular, have taken on new roles—running businesses, organizing aid, and even joining the Houthi administration. In a society where conservative traditions once limited their mobility, war has forced change.
Local historians and architects are racing to document and restore what remains of Sana’a’s heritage. With limited resources, they patch up bullet holes in ancient walls and digitize manuscripts before they’re lost forever. International organizations offer little help—most funding goes to emergency aid, not cultural preservation.
Yet, the people of Sana’a refuse to let their history die. Every repaired window, every restored manuscript, is an act of defiance.
Peace talks have come and gone, with no lasting solution. The Houthis, now entrenched in Sana’a, show no signs of surrendering. Saudi Arabia, bogged down in a costly war, has begun indirect negotiations—but airstrikes still occur.
The U.S., distracted by global tensions, has reduced its involvement. Meanwhile, Iran quietly supports the Houthis, turning Yemen into another proxy battleground.
Sana’a has seen empires rise and fall—the Himyarites, the Ottomans, the British. It has survived plagues, invasions, and civil wars. Today, it faces its greatest challenge yet.
But if history is any guide, Sana’a will endure. Its people have rebuilt before. They will rebuild again. The question is not whether Sana’a will survive, but what kind of city will emerge from the ashes.
For now, the ancient streets whisper stories of the past—and warnings for the future.