Eleven years of ongoing conflict have shattered economic stability and basic quality of life across Yemen, creating a stark gender divide in how people seek a way forward. While thousands of Yemeni men have migrated to Gulf Cooperation Council nations in search of stable work, Yemeni women face steep barriers to mobility: rigid patriarchal social norms and longstanding legal requirements mandate that a woman be accompanied by a male guardian (known locally as a mahram) for international travel, cutting off most independent migration options. For a growing number of young Yemeni women trapped in cycles of poverty and insecurity, marriage to a wealthy foreign man has emerged as one of the only viable paths to escape hardship and build a stable life outside the country – but the outcomes of these risky unions vary dramatically, from hard-won security to devastating exploitation.
Mona, a 29-year-old woman from Taiz governorate whose name has been changed to protect her safety, first experienced the crushing weight of Yemen’s crisis during her five-year marriage to a local shopkeeper. “Every single day I worried about how to put food, water, and basic services on the table,” she explained in an interview with Middle East Eye. After the birth of her child, the couple’s poverty deepened so severely that even affording infant formula became nearly impossible. “I couldn’t stay with a man who couldn’t even provide milk for his own child,” Mona said. She divorced her husband three years ago, vowing to never again marry into poverty.
Mona spent a year working casual jobs with a local humanitarian organization supporting vulnerable Yemeni families, but never met the wealthy partner she sought. It was only when a friend introduced her to a wealthy Emirati suitor that her path shifted – a match arranged by a hidden marriage broker who specialized in connecting Yemeni women to foreign grooms. Though Mona hesitated at learning the man already had a family in the UAE and the marriage would be a secret arrangement based in Egypt, she ultimately accepted the offer, convincing her traditionally-minded brothers (who had initially opposed any marriage outside the local tribe) by framing the union as a chance to lift the entire family out of poverty. “We all deserve a better life,” she said. “I couldn’t find that in Yemen, so this let me chase two dreams at once: a secure provider and a life outside the country.”
After negotiating terms online, Mona received a $10,000 dowry – three times the average dowry for a local Yemeni groom in her community – and traveled to Egypt with her father to formalize the marriage. Today, she resides in Egypt full-time, with her husband traveling regularly for work between global destinations. For Mona, the gamble has paid off: her husband provides generously, covering her living expenses and allowing her to send regular financial support back to her family in Yemen. “I truly feel I’ve achieved my dream,” she said.
But for 22-year-old Noha, the same path led only to heartbreak. Noha was a first-year university student when she began hearing classmates share stories of Yemeni women who found prosperity through marriage to foreign men. Raised by a single mother after her parents’ divorce, Noha had watched her mother struggle daily to provide for the family, and the promise of financial security and a new life abroad felt like an answer to her prayers. She and her mother reached out to a marriage broker, who connected her to a man in his 40s holding U.S. citizenship. Though the suitor was more than 20 years her senior, the promise of escape from Yemen’s war zone was too tempting to ignore. Noha’s father, who initially opposed the match, quickly agreed after receiving a financial incentive, and traveled with her to Egypt to finalize the wedding.
Within days of her father returning to Yemen, Noha realized she had been manipulated. “From the first week, he treated me like a commodity, not a wife,” she recalled. She soon discovered he was a serial marriage swindler, marrying multiple young Yemeni women each year for temporary relationships, with no intention of building a permanent life together. Trapped alone in a foreign country with no friends or relatives to turn to, Noha begged her father to rescue her. He returned to Egypt within a month and brought her back to Yemen, where she now lives again with her mother. Noha says the success stories she heard from classmates were entirely fabricated by profit-driven marriage brokers. “These foreign men don’t see Yemeni girls as people – they see us as products to use for a short time and then throw away,” she said. “I curse the day I ever thought this was a way to a better life.”
The desire to escape Yemen’s collapsing living conditions is widely shared among young Yemeni women, even for those who have not yet pursued a cross-border marriage. Twenty-year-old Mariam, a social media active young woman who also requested anonymity, says years of conflict have made it impossible to build a stable future in Yemen. “Every day all I hear from people in my community is complaints about how bad things are,” she said. “We only live once – we deserve the chance to enjoy it.” Like most Yemeni women, Mariam knows she cannot travel abroad without a male guardian, so marriage to a man who can relocate her outside the country is her primary goal. She has already rejected multiple local suitors who could not offer her that chance. “Life outside Yemen is like heaven, and I don’t want to raise my children here,” she said. “I’d marry a wealthy Yemeni or a foreign man – it doesn’t matter, as long as he can get me out.”
Sociologist Naif Nouraddin, who has studied the rise of cross-border marriages among young Yemeni women, says the trend is rooted in Yemen’s deepening economic and social collapse, driven by more than a decade of war. He notes that most women who pursue these unions come from households already fractured by crisis, often growing up in single-parent homes with little financial or emotional security. “These young women are chasing stability they can’t find at home, but more often than not, this path leads to another breakdown,” Nouraddin explained. “The vast majority of these foreign grooms are only seeking temporary marriages, and they end in divorce after just a few months.”
Nouraddin added that while widespread poverty is the main driving force, not all low-income Yemeni families accept these arrangements. Many hold fast to traditional norms that discourage cross-border marriage, so the practice is concentrated among families that are either deeply desperate for escape or seeking the social status that comes with a foreign union. He also points to a clear indicator of the temporary nature of most of these marriages: very few of the women have children with their foreign grooms, a sharp contrast to permanent Yemeni marriages. “A real marriage builds a family, but that rarely happens here,” he said. “We’ve seen dozens of women come back to Yemen with deep emotional trauma after these failed arrangements.”
Even Mona, who found success with her foreign marriage, warns young Yemeni women that this path is not a solution. “Marrying a foreign man isn’t the best choice for a Yemeni girl – it’s a last resort for those who can’t find a Yemeni man who can provide for a family,” she said. “Living far from your home and family with a stranger isn’t easy. I had no other choice, but my advice is to look for a Yemeni husband first.”