by Murad Abdo
ADEN, Yemen, June 1 (Xinhua) -- As dusk settles over Yemen's southern port city of Aden, a group of children chases a worn football through a dusty alley. For a few precious moments, they look like children anywhere else.
But when the game ends, many will return not to playgrounds or birthday parties, but to lives shaped by hardship far beyond their years.
While children across the globe are receiving toys and gifts on Monday, International Children's Day, countless Yemeni children are spending the day working to help their families survive, living in displacement camps, or navigating years of conflict and economic collapse.
Twelve-year-old Marwan Ali is one of them.
Before sunrise, he walked to a car wash in Aden, armed with a bucket and sponge. He spent long hours cleaning vehicles under the scorching sun. The money would help his family buy food. His childhood, meanwhile, has quietly slipped away.
"I hear people talking about Children's Day on the radios playing in the cars I wash," Ali told Xinhua, water dripping from his hands. "But for me, it's just another day. I have to work."
A group of children carrying colorful backpacks passed nearby, heading to a language institute. Ali followed them with his eyes. "They are lucky," he said quietly. "They can study and play. I wish I could go back to school."
He left school after his father could no longer afford the expenses. Now he spends his days scrubbing tires and washing windshields. "My friends talk about games and places they have visited," he said. "I don't know much about those things. I work."
His story is far from unique. Behind it lies a broader crisis: Nearly 4 million out of approximately 17.6 million children in Yemen have stopped schooling as a result of a more-than-a-decade-long conflict in the country, according to UNICEF. Poverty, displacement and instability have pushed many into child labor long before their teenage years.
At a busy intersection, 11-year-old Khaled Mohammed stood beneath the blazing sun clutching a box of bottled water. Each time vehicles stopped at a traffic light, he hurried forward hoping to make a sale.
"When my father became sick, there was no one to provide for us," Mohammed said. "If I don't work, we may not have enough to eat."
Nearby, other children sold tissues or carried goods. For many, survival leaves little room for celebration.
On the northern outskirts of Aden, rows of makeshift shelters stretch across barren land. Here, childhood often unfolds amid dust, heat and uncertainty.
"My son was born in a displacement camp and is now 10 years old," said Nasser Obaid, a displaced father. "He knows tents better than houses."
Yet children still chase one another through narrow pathways, their games simple, their toys scarce. Some fashion footballs from plastic bags. Their laughter persists.
For parents, even small treats have become a luxury. "A toy is a luxury now," said Hamid Naji, an employee at a private company in Aden.
"Sometimes all I can give my children is a piece of candy. I avoid taking them to shopping malls because I know I cannot afford what they might ask for. My salary barely covers food," he said.
Despite everything, many children still dream. Rashid Mohammed, who helps his father in a carpentry workshop, finds time after work and memorize English vocabulary. He told Xinhua that he hopes to become a doctor one day. Others have spoken of becoming teachers, engineers, football players or pilots.
On International Children's Day, their stories are a reminder that behind the statistics and headlines are children whose lives have been shaped by conflict, yet whose hopes for a better future remain intact. ■
