Yemen’s oil oasis rises from the ashes of Houthi occupation
While the rest of the country is mired in conflict, Marib is thriving thanks to tribal cohesion, energy reserves and an influx of displaced people
MARIB: The clang of jackhammers and excavators fills the streets of Marib, an oilrich Yemeni town once accustomed to the sounds of war, now a rare oasis of stability in a country torn by strife.
But the ongoing war in Yemen has coincided with the rise of Marib, once seen as an Al-Qaeda bastion, which has been spared much of the misery owing to its oil and gas reserves, proximity to Saudi Arabia and rare tribal cohesion that has helped repel Houthi incursions.
“We have managed to push the war far away from Marib,” said provincial governor Sultan Al-Arada.
“Marib is untouchable,” he told AFP. Marib is now Yemen’s most thriving city, thanks in part to an influx of hundreds of thousands of internally displaced people, among them entrepreneurs, doctors and a monied class that is driving up investments and real estate prices.
Hundreds of new businesses have come up, from eateries to water bottling plants, and construction sites are everywhere.
Marib offers another novelty to legions of employed youth in a country with chronic joblessness — salaries.
“The spectacular rise of Marib has come not despite the conflict, but because of it,” Farea Al-Muslimi, a Yemen expert at Chatham House think tank, told AFP.
“Marib has gained from the chaos surrounding it.”
A weakened central government — exiled in the southern port city of Aden, where southern separatists have opened a new front in the conflict — has strengthened local governance, giving Marib more autonomy to chart its future.
Its university is expanding and businessmen who once fled the war are slowly returning.
That includes Obaid Zubaiyen, head of a family-run trade and construction enterprise with interests across the Gulf, who fled Yemen in 2011 amid increasing turmoil.
“The family is back because Marib means opportunity,” said Misbah Ohag, a group manager, showing AFP a blueprint of a planned multimillion-dollar project of villas, apartments and malls.
Gov. Arada plans an international airport and aims to make Marib, home to temple ruins from the ancient Sabaean kingdom, a magnet for tourists — a plan hampered by the wrenching conflict.
But some scars of the war rumbling on outside Marib are still visible inside the province.
At a rehab center for child soldiers, drawings sketched by the young survivors are telling. One showed a grenade, a tank, a helicopter gunship and crimson splashes of blood.
“They blew up my school,” read the caption.
Houthi rebels have planted thousands of landmines around Marib and mangled carcasses of cars litter its mountainous border.
“So many dead and limbless people,” said Mohammed Abdo Al-Qubati, head of Marib general hospital, home to Yemen’s only functional prosthetic limbs center in government territory.
“It’s like we are waiting for the remaining people to die.”
Marib, with an original population of around 350,000, is sinking under the weight of what officials say are 1.5 million displaced people from across Yemen, putting a strain on resources.
In a decrepit camp on its outskirts, dozens of people from a tribe called Jaham tugged at the sleeves of Saudi aid officials, imploring them for more relief supplies.
“This is the kind of life you wish upon your enemy. We used to live in palaces, now we live in tents,” said a tribesman from nearby Sirwah district, which was overrun by the Houthis.
Houthi rebels besieged Marib for months in 2015 after they captured the capital Sanaa, but they were pushed back in fierce clashes with local tribesmen aided by the Saudi-led Arab coalition.
Arada, one of the region’s most influential tribal leaders, rallied together fellow elders to pledge loyalty to the Hadi government — even those who traditionally supported the Houthis.
The US, behind regular drone strikes in the territory to combat Al-Qaeda, has imposed sanctions on Arada’s brother, accusing him of supporting the group, a charge the governor vehemently denies.
Marib faces the constant threat of Houthi rockets, hundreds of which have been fired toward the city.
A missile strike killed six children last year during Eid festivities, Arada said.
Paying a heavy price for the conflict are thousands of divided families in Yemen, split between Houthi and government territory.
“We go through checkpoint, checkpoint, checkpoint,” said Amina Al-Ayashi, 55, describing a circuitous route to Sanaa, where her son journalist Taufiq is in a Houthi jail as the rebels crackdown on the media.
“It feels like a whole lifetime. They (rebels) humiliatingly search us. We bring clothes, bread, vegetables. They refuse...” she trailed off.
Morsal Haidara, an English professor at Marib University — which restarted in 2016 after being shut down during months of fighting — draws parallels to Shakespeare’s Hamlet, comparing the rebels to the character King Claudius who seized the throne by poisoning his own brother.
“What’s happening in Yemen is a tragedy,” he said.