Karim al-Yemani is the pseudonym for a researcher and reporter from Yemen, whose real name is not being used given the security situation in Yemen.
Authorities in Yemen's Sanaa issued a new directive last May banning media professionals and content creators from conducting interviews or taking any photos without a permit. It was a stunning move for many in Yemen, and yet another obstacle among a long list of repressive regulations for journalists working on the ground since the start of the country's long-running civil war.
Journalism has become an increasingly dangerous profession amid Yemen's tumultuous and unstable political and military landscape. Freedom of expression—a bedrock of any free and open society—is a punishable act of worsening severity.
When Mohammed, a journalist based in Sanaa, saw the new directive banning photos and interviews, he experienced a sense of growing fear and frustration. Speaking with Democracy in Exile, he said, "Restrictions imposed on media are not new in Yemen. However, the issuance of such an official order means that the crackdown is formalized and legitimized.
"This is more intimidating."
Last month, the Observatory for Media Freedoms in Yemen documented 21 violations against journalists and media workers in Yemen, including arbitrary arrest, threats, unfair trials and restrictions on freedom of media work.
Journalist Fuad Al-Nahari experienced the results of these restrictions firsthand, receiving a death threat for his reporting in May. As a result, he fled his home in northern Yemen's Dhamar to Seyoun in the south.
Al-Nahari has been openly critical of the Houthis—known locally as Ansar Allah—the de facto governing authority over most of Yemen's north since 2015.
To avoid that scenario, Mohammed is cautious and avoids criticizing the authorities on his social media accounts. For nearly a decade, he has written about politics and humanitarian issues in Yemen, acknowledging the increasing precarity of the profession over each passing year.
"Independent journalists in Yemen live with a constant worry," Mohammed explained. "Personally, I feel the peril when carrying a camera, taking a photo in a public place or traveling from one city to another."
"I often avoid introducing myself as a journalist."
In a country ravaged by ten years of war, that approach makes sense. The killing of journalists has long constituted a recurring crime. According to the Yemeni Journalists Syndicate, 45 journalists have been murdered over the past decade. The organization has documented over 2,000 violations against media freedom in that timespan.
These trends are worsening in the context of northern Yemen, where the United States, United Kingdom and Israel have conducted hundreds of airstrikes over the past year and a half, hitting numerous sites and facilities.
Journalism has become an increasingly dangerous profession amid Yemen's tumultuous and unstable political and military landscape. Freedom of expression—a bedrock of any free and open society—is a punishable act of worsening severity.
- Karim al-Yemani
The strikes aim to degrade the Houthi's military power and halt its missile attacks on Israel and international shipping routes in the Red Sea. The group continues to launch attacks in solidarity with Gaza, where Israel has killed over 58,000 people since October 2023.
Amid the ongoing standoff between the Houthis and foreign powers, the group has tightened censorship efforts—explaining the May directive. Members of the media and content creators face an increasingly closed space for their work, highlighting a clear attempt to prevent the release of what they deem sensitive information.
That expanding list included images of targeted locations, troop movements or simple casualty numbers.
Mustafa Nasr, head of the Observatory for Media Freedoms in Yemen, told Democracy in Exile that the recent Houthi ban on photography is a "dangerous escalation against media freedom."
"The ban extends to include ordinary citizens and content creators on social media, in a move aimed at strengthening the security grip and expanding the tools of repression," he explained. According to Nasr, the measure enables the authorities in Sanaa to control what information can be shared publicly and what remains hidden.
Faisal Abdulkarim, a 35-year-old resident in Sanaa, said he no longer dares to photograph any view of the city. He knows taking photos in public places could be misinterpreted—landing him in trouble. "For me, it is better to follow the rules and obey the instructions than being suspected or detained," he explained.
"We had better weigh our words and observe our moves."
Southern Yemen has not fared much better, with freedom of expression also under attack. Journalists are not immune from threats and dangers when they criticize the authorities or cover protests for access to basic services.
In May, hundreds of women gathered in Aden to criticize the collapse of public services—including healthcare, water and electricity. Authorities responded with violence, cracking down on what had been peaceful rallies.
"They [the authorities in Aden] want us to die silently. They hate seeing people express their pain. We are not still objects. We are humans, and we cannot bear endless suffering," said 28-year-old Marwa, who joined the demonstration in Al-Oroudh Square in the Khor Maksr district of Aden on May 24.
Describing the attack, Marwa recounted how female security forces belonging to the Southern Transitional Council (STC)—the de facto authorities across much of the south—assaulted the protestors, dispersing them. They beat protesters and chased them through the streets.
"It is a compound suffering: starvation and repression," she said.
Photojournalist Hussein Belhaseb was detained while covering the protest that day, though he was released hours later. He was lucky his captors did not transfer him to jail for documenting the wrath of reform-seeking protesters.
Yemen ratified the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights in 1987, which guarantees the freedom of expression and the right to peaceful assembly. However, armed groups have proliferated over the course of the country's decade-long civil war, routinely violating local and international human rights laws, as the central government has largely faded from relevance.
On May 30, Euro-Med Human Rights Monitor stated: "[The] attacks on peaceful demonstrations in Aden represent a serious violation of Yemen's obligations under international human rights law."
"These obligations are binding on all authorities, including local security forces," the organization concluded.
Aden-based journalist Abdulrahman Anees posted photos and videos of the women's protests on his Facebook account, which sparked anger from politicians in Aden opposed to the demonstrations.
Anees said: "An official called me, displaying his anger at what he described as protest-provoking posts." But he neither participated, nor called for, a protest. Replying to the official's remarks, Anees sarcastically said, "Which incitement? The protest began and ended while I was asleep at home."
Stifling media freedom and repressing any dissent in both the north and south has become a hallmark of Yemen's prolonged war—with no end in sight. As Mohammed puts it, "The journalist fears seeking information and the sources fear sharing it."
Journalism in Yemen is neither rewarding nor safe. Society offers little appreciation or support—especially for independent journalists—as the authorities continue to impose new restrictions. The burden is becoming increasingly unbearable for many.
Mohammed, behind tired eyes, closes our interview bluntly: "Doing independent media work in such an environment feels harder than laboring in a quarry."
