![Pinterest](https://pinterest.com/pin/create/button/?url=https://uknews.evprotec.com/yemen-the-children-of-a-forgotten-war/&media=https://uknews.evprotec.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/07/130446465_super_promo_new_safe_zone-2.jpg&description=Image source, Goktay Koraltan/BBC Image caption, Bader lost part of his right leg after being hit by a shell on his way home from school If suffering had an address, it might be al-Rasheed Street, in Taiz, a Yemeni city ringed by mountains and rebel Houthi fighters. On this narrow street of rough-hewn homes, the young can't escape a grinding conflict the world tends to forget. A slight boy with a mop of dark hair leads us down the street, nimbly side-stepping potholes - with his crutches. Bader al-Harbi is seven years old, just a little younger than Yemen's war. His right leg has been amputated above the knee. The slogan on his T-shirt reads "Sport". In the back yard of his family home, Bader sits on some breeze blocks, his stump exposed. His remaining foot has no shoe. His big brother Hashim is by his side, sharing his trauma and his silence. Hashim's right foot has been mangled and he is missing a thumb. He fidgets endlessly with his hands as if trying to rub out the scars. The boys were hit by Houthi shelling on an October morning last year as they came home from school on a break, according to their father, al-Harbi Nasser al-Majnahi. They have not been back to their classes since. "Everything changed completely," he says, sitting cross-legged on a mattress. "They no longer play outside with other kids. They are disabled. They are scared and have psychological problems." In a small voice, sounding younger than his nine years, Hashim says he would like to go back to school. "I want to study and learn," he tells me. I asked Bader if he wants to go too. "Yes," he replies. "But my leg has been cut off, so how can I go?" Their father says they have not been enrolled for the upcoming school year because he has no money for transport. And he has no way to get his family out of harm's way. "Even though we are scared, we can't afford to live anywhere else," he tells me, "because the rent would be higher. So, we are forced to stay here, whether we live or die." What began){kind=link}
If suffering had an address, it might be al-Rasheed Street, in Taiz, a Yemeni city ringed by mountains and rebel Houthi fighters. On this narrow street of rough-hewn homes, the young can’t escape a grinding conflict the world tends to forget.
A slight boy with a mop of dark hair leads us down the street, nimbly side-stepping potholes – with his crutches. Bader al-Harbi is seven years old, just a little younger than Yemen’s war. His right leg has been amputated above the knee. The slogan on his T-shirt reads “Sport”.
In the back yard of his family home, Bader sits on some breeze blocks, his stump exposed. His remaining foot has no shoe. His big brother Hashim is by his side, sharing his trauma and his silence.
Hashim’s right foot has been mangled and he is missing a thumb. He fidgets endlessly with his hands as if trying to rub out the scars.
The boys were hit by Houthi shelling on an October morning last year as they came home from school on a break, according to their father, al-Harbi Nasser al-Majnahi. They have not been back to their classes since.