Field of Dreams: Football Breathes Life into Yemen’s Camps

Ma’rib, Yemen – Every summer in Ma’rib, something remarkable takes shape under the relentless desert sun. In a place marked by loss and uncertainty, a football tournament offers a rare kind of hope. For hundreds of displaced youth living across more than a dozen sites, it’s a chance to unite, to belong, and to dream.

Organized by the International Organization for Migration (IOM), the tournament is more than a sporting event. It’s a lifeline. In Ma’rib Governorate, where over 2.3 million internally displaced people have settled, families live in makeshift shelters, often after being forced to flee multiple times. Water is scarce, the heat is unforgiving, and access to education and health care is limited at best. In these conditions, there is little space for childhood, let alone for play.

Yet when the whistle blows and the ball is kicked into play, something shifts. On the field, children and young adults are no longer defined by conflict. For a moment, they become teammates, competitors and determined athletes, focused on the game and nothing else.

This year’s tournament brought together youth from more than a dozen displacement sites, including Salwa, Al-Ramsa and Al-Sowayda. In areas where daily life can feel heavy and isolated, the matches created a sense of connection and community. Hundreds of players registered and participated, despite the scarcity of equipment and resources.

Among the players is Basheer, a 26-year-old displaced from his home and now living in the heart of Salwa displacement site. He stands beside his tent, its fabric worn thin by wind and sun. “This is home,” he says, glancing around. “Right in the middle of Salwa camp.” 

Like many young men in Ma’rib’s displacement sites, Basheer shoulders far more than just his own future. He is the sixth of seven brothers and the only one with a steady income. Every day, he works on a minibus, shuttling people back and forth across town from early morning to late afternoon. On a good day, he brings home 20,000 Yemeni rials – barely enough to cover food.

The rest of the family depends on him. His brothers are out of work. The eldest managed to reach the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia and sends money when he can, but the support is irregular. Most days, they survive on whatever Basheer is able to bring home.

Plans for his own life have been put on hold. He’s been engaged for three years but hasn’t taken any steps toward marriage. “There’s simply no money for it,” he explains. Everything he earns goes to his family.

And still, he shows up to play.

Football, for Basheer, is more than a distraction. It’s a refuge. A rare moment of focus and joy in a life shaped by duty and survival.

“Football takes me to another world,” says Basheer. “When I’m playing, I forget everything else.”

This year, the tournament ended with a tense final between Salwa and Al-Ramsa sites. Basheer’s team lost, but to him, reaching the final was already a victory.

“People might think we were upset, but we weren’t,” he explains. “We did our best; many didn’t even expect us to make it that far.”

What stayed with him even more than the matches was the sense of connection. The tournament created bonds between young people who had lived side by side for years but had never truly met. For a few weeks, they weren’t just neighbours in crisis. They were teammates, rivals, and friends.

Despite its popularity, this year’s tournament faced a serious challenge: a lack of funding. In previous years, IOM had managed to fully equip the teams. Players received football boots, socks, kits and even proper goalposts. This year, IOM’s Camp Coordination and Camp Management team could only provide basic jerseys.

Jamal Alshami, an IOM field assistant and one of the long-time organizers, has supported the tournament for three years. In the past, the team was able to provide hundreds of players with full kits. This year, with limited resources, Jamal feared the turnout would suffer. He worried that players might lose interest or feel discouraged.

But the opposite happened.

“Even more players joined than last year,” Jamal recounts. “Some came barefoot and played all day under the burning sun. They were happy just to be there.”

Beyond the excitement, the tournament had a deeper impact. IOM teams conducting focus group discussions across displacement sites heard the same message from parents and youth alike. Displacement takes a toll on mental health. Life in the camps is stressful and isolating. But sport, and football in particular, gives young people a way to reconnect with themselves and with each other.

“When people are displaced, they leave behind everything. That includes the things they used to enjoy,” says Jamal. “That’s why these activities matter. They help people relax and reconnect with something they once loved.”

That sense of joy was felt far beyond the players themselves. Spectators gathered along the sidelines, cheering with every goal. Commentators brought the matches to life with their lively calls. Even camp managers paused their work to watch. For a few hours each day, the camps felt different. They felt louder, lighter and full of life.

The success of the tournament is a reminder of what displaced communities need. Not just food, water and shelter, but also dignity, purpose and something to believe in. With Ma’rib continuing to receive new waves of displacement, IOM is working to bring mental health and psychosocial support closer to the ground. This includes sports, youth clubs and cultural events.

Football, in this context, is more than a game. It is a reminder of identity. A way to heal. A moment of normal life in a place where very little feels normal.

For Basheer, it is something personal. A quiet joy that keeps him grounded in the middle of uncertainty. It reminds him that happiness is still possible. That connection is still real. And that some things are worth holding on to, even if it means playing barefoot in the desert.

The football tournament in Marib was made possible with the support of EU Humanitarian Aid (ECHO) and the United States Agency for International Development (USAID), as part of IOM’s broader Camp Coordination and Camp Management (CCCM) activities.

This story was written by Haithm Abdulbaqi, Media and Communication Assistant with IOM Yemen.