Recent research by Ravenstone Consult and the Mixed Migration Centre indicates that horrific human rights violations are taking place all along the Eastern Route from the Horn of Africa, via Yemen to Saudi Arabia. This includes the deliberate harming and killing of hundreds of Ethiopian migrants by security forces under Saudi Arabian state authority along the Saudi Arabian-Yemen border.
To gather further information from migrants after the first report was launched in March, we conducted additional interviews with Ethiopian respondents who indicated that they had experienced or witnessed violations along the Saudi-Yemen border and in July we published the second article on the targeted violence at the border. This article includes the personal stories of three Ethiopian migrants describing their journeys through Yemen into Saudi Arabia, and eventually back to Ethiopia.
Note: Personal information has been treated with confidentiality. The names of the respondents were altered to protect their identities.
Story 1 – Ayana’s journey
“They fired at us at night, and I noticed a red light coming from the bullets. Bodies were scattered into pieces and the place became full of blood. Of the 30 migrants who were travelling with me, 26 died, and I lost my fingers.”
– Ayana, 18-year-old female Ethiopian, interviewed on 3 June 2023 in Addis Ababa
I grew up in Hararghe, a town east of the capital Addis Ababa, in a big family with seven siblings. We have very little income, so I wanted to earn some money to support my family by finding work abroad. That’s why I contacted a well-known broker from my village, about a year and four months ago, together with three friends who wanted to join. We paid 600 Birr (approximately 11 USD) each to travel in a Khat-transporting vehicle to Jijiga, our first stop. In the city, the driver bought us food and transferred us to another trafficker.[1] We saw many other migrants who had come from other parts of Ethiopia. We spent one night there, then continued on our journey.
Six days later, we arrived in Bosaso, Somalia, where we stayed in plastic tents with more than 16 female and 10 male migrants. The trafficker asked us to call our families to send 20,000 Birr (approximately 364 USD) in order to continue onwards to Yemen. Thankfully my family immediately agreed to transfer the money, but others were not so lucky. If families refused to send money, or if they could not pay, the trafficker punished the migrants physically. I was scared and sad, witnessing the trafficker beating and battering them and making women live with him as temporary wives, forcing them to work and serve food. He would sexually exploit them, and after they became pregnant or ill, he replaced them with other newly arrived female migrants. Women told me that they had to serve as wives for one year before they would be freed by the trafficker and be allowed to travel to Saudi Arabia.
After the money was transferred, the trafficker grouped me with about 250 other migrants, and we were loaded into a truck that was so crowded that some people fainted on the journey. When we stopped, a Somali trafficker took over, and we travelled by foot for one day to arrive at the seashore. There were about 600 of us being transported over the sea by two boats. We were picked up on the Yemeni seashore and transported to Haraz by car, where we waited under a bridge for three days without food. Traffickers checked via phone whether the route to Saudi Arabia was safe, and then sent us to the mountainous area. While walking towards the border, I accidentally fell, injuring my hand severely. I couldn’t continue with the other migrants anymore, so the trafficker left me there and continued with the others. Some drug dealers helped me to return to a trafficker in Yemen, and my family sent money for me to get treatment. He was nice to me and took care of me for two months.
Once I recovered, I attempted to travel to Saudi Arabia for a second time, together with the trafficker and other migrants. When we reached the “mountain place” at the border with security cameras, the traffickers told us to go as fast as possible to escape the Saudi police. It was very dangerous. The area was highly degraded due to frequent rocket-like weapons that police used to attack, explode, and destroy migrants within seconds. They fired at us at night, and I noticed a red light coming from the bullets. Bodies were scattered into pieces and the place became full of blood. Of the 30 migrants who were travelling with me, 26 died, and I lost my fingers. Only four of us survived, with serious injuries.
I could not use my hands and fingers, so with the help of my toes, I took the phone of the trafficker and gave it to another woman to call for help. Shisha traders found us, and they took us to the Saudi hospital, but the hospital refused to treat us. They said that they didn’t have the capacity to treat these kinds of wounds. They sent us back to Yemen where we found a hospital that admitted us, and we spent many days undergoing surgery. I heard about other Ethiopian migrants also coming to the hospital to obtain treatment, who had survived an attack by Saudi security forces in the same place where I and others had been attacked. About 80 migrants were killed there.
After my hospital stay, I travelled with other migrants to Sana’a, where there were people who took us to a non-governmental organisation that rescues migrant survivors like us. I stayed there for six months and got medical treatment with their assistance. They then asked us if we wanted to return to Ethiopia. Some said no, but I was willing to return, so the organisation provided free transport by plane to Addis Ababa, where I am now. Was my trip successful? No. I lost many things. I lost parts of my body. I lost my fingers, and there were physical injuries on the upper part of my hand. Besides, my family paid a lot of money for the traffickers and the treatment. At least I have phone contact and communication with my family.
[1] The term trafficker is used based on the translation of what respondents told us, to stay as close as possible to their own personal stories and perceptions. It is not possible to verify in every reference whether the term smuggler or trafficker might be more applicable.
Story 2 – Omari’s journey
“I always thought that if I were able to obtain a good amount of money from Saudi Arabia by working there, I would forget about the misery I faced during my travel because my life would be changed in a good way.”
– Omari, 22-year-old male Ethiopian, interviewed on 10 June 2023 in Southern Nations, Nationalities, and Peoples’ Region (SNNPR)
Last year I worked as a construction worker in Kibet, where I earned 150 Birr (approximately 2,70 USD) per day. However, I was only able to find work for one week per month, and the rest of the time, I was not working at all. I tried another job too, working as a baker in a bread-selling shop, where my monthly payment was 1,400 Birr (approximately 25,50 USD), but I was tired of being only temporarily employed. That’s why I started thinking about migrating and dreaming of changing my life miraculously to obtain money. My big dream was to construct a house, buy a car, and help my family.
I knew that my aunt’s son had started migrating to Saudi Arabia, so I contacted the broker who helped him. The broker told me that my aunt’s son had arrived safely and that the trip to Saudi Arabia was safe. He called me on the phone daily, advising me to migrate, and told me that if I took four people with me, then he would cover the cost of our travel up to the sea. We agreed, and my journey began. It took us 24 hours to travel from Kibet to Addis Ababa, and then to Kombolcha. It was another 24 hours to Bati, then Afar, where we waited for three days with other migrants who belonged to traffickers. We walked for 6 hours to Djibouti, then travelled by car. Djibouti police held us for one day, and after the traffickers paid them, the police showed us the way to the sea. There we waited for 3 days for other migrants to come because the ship would carry 140 of us. Around midnight we were loaded onto the ships. Upon arrival in Yemen in the morning, the trafficker asked us to pay 30,000 Birr (approximately 543 USD) each. He asked me to call my family to send the money, while brokers listened in to my phone conversation. If there was no willingness from a migrant’s family to pay, the traffickers physically beat migrants on the legs and hands and refused to give them food. I saw young women of 18 to 22 being raped, and several became pregnant and were forced to serve traffickers for two to three years.
After my brother deposited the money to the trafficker’s account, I continued to Rago, a mountainous area inside the Yemen boundary, together with more than 20 migrants. However, I didn’t have any more money to pay the traffickers, so they beat me with their hands, wood, and iron-like sticks and called my family so they could hear the harsh beatings and my crying. The trafficker also used an axe to pretend to cut our legs with it and sometimes cut the toes of migrants. I was forced to work for the traffickers, collecting wood to cook food. After one week, my family sold our land and sent the trafficker 60,000 Birr (approximately 1,087 USD) so that I could continue my journey.
We travelled for two days in the mountains without food and water, until we saw the Saudi police waiting at Rago Mountain. I remember Rago well, with the sounds of weapons and full of dead people. The Saudi police used weapons to fire at migrants, including Kalashnikov rifles, sniper weapons with cameras, Merkez rifles, small pistols, and the DShK launcher gun, which can kill more than 20 people at once. I think the border guards were Egyptian and Sudanese, and they were even harsher on migrants than the Saudi police. They watched us and talked on the phone before firing with DShK at the stones in the mountain, scattering the stones and causing physical injuries. They then fired at us directly, so we ran and hid among the rocks for two hours, but they killed one migrant in front of us who tried to escape. When it was time for Azan (the Muslim call to prayer), the police went to religious practice, and we continued our travels. However, gangsters with pistols, took us and controlled our movement. They forced us to call our families to send money and killed one migrant when he ran away.
In Sabya the Saudi police imprisoned me for three days, and when I couldn’t give money to be released, they transferred me to Jizan prison. There were 315 of us sleeping on ceramic, given a small amount of food per day, with no restroom or medical treatment available. My friend who was sick wasn’t allowed to obtain medical treatment, so he died in prison. Another migrant with diabetes also died. After 6 months, Saudi police transferred us to Jida prison, where food remained scarce, but there were restrooms and better water for taking a shower.
After six months in Jida, I was forcibly deported back to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, by plane. The Red Cross gave me 1000 Birr (approximately 18 USD) and allowed me to call my family. I travelled back home to Silt’e the next day. What do I think of my trip overall? Well, there were many miserable treatments by traffickers. However, I always thought that if I were able to obtain a good amount of money from Saudi Arabia by working there, I would forget about the misery I faced during my travel because my life would be changed in a good way… I know that those who are still in Saudi prison are still suffering a lot.
Story 3 – Tamru’s journey
“While the Saudi police were firing weapons at us, many migrants were running either backwards or forwards and became victims, but I was moving like a snake to escape from the bullets. That helped me to survive.”
– Tamru, 33-year-old male Ethiopian, interviewed on 7 June 2023 in Southern Nations, Nationalities, and Peoples’ Region (SNNPR)
I heard about migration to Saudi Arabia from my friend, who convinced me to migrate with him. So, at age 29, I started my travels from Ethiopia. We contacted a broker named Sule, who requested 5,500 Birr (approximately 100 USD) from us each to connect us with the first traffickers and transport us to Nazreth. The traffickers told us to travel to Ziway first, and in Nazareth, we were handed over to another trafficker who packed eight of us into large tank trucks used for transporting fuel. We were cramped behind the driver on a small bed, and the driver was drunk, nearly causing an accident on the way. Once we reached Afar, we were unloaded from the trucks and followed a pastoralist trafficker on foot for 6 hours, arriving in Tedjoura, Djibouti. There we stayed for 15 days with Dr. Ali, another trafficker, who asked for 25,000 Birr (approximately 453 USD) to be deposited into his account by my family in Ethiopia. I called my family, and they complied with the request. The nights were very hot, as I stayed in a room with 120 men. More than 40 of us then crammed into one car to travel to the sea place, where small Yemeni ships called Donic were waiting for us. 150 of us boarded the Donic and we travelled for four hours. Many migrants became sick and vomited, with no restroom on board. Women saved everyone’s lives because they were removing the water coming into the ship and cleaning the Donic. When we arrived in Yemen, Yemeni traffickers were waiting for us, carrying many weapons. They brought a truck for 150 migrants and opened fire while we were being loaded into the car. That’s how one migrant lost his life.
We travelled for another ten hours to a forest near Harad, where we stayed for 15 days with 300 migrants. Here, the traffickers demanded 54,000 Birr (approximately 978 USD) from each of us. They beat me many times, especially if the phone call to my family didn’t work. He beat me for six days with an electric wire, often in the morning and late afternoon after chewing Khat. I remember it clearly because the beating sometimes causes flashbacks in my dreams, and once I wake up, I can’t sleep again… All migrants, both men and women, were beaten. One migrant tried to escape and was killed by the Yemeni trafficker. The traffickers also abused women, raping them during the daytime and night in the forest. One of the women refused to have sex, so she was beaten by the trafficker. Another woman endured 18 months as a “wife” to a Yemeni trafficker, despite her family depositing the requested money twice.
After the trafficker received money from my family and other migrants’ families, we started travelling to Jizzan, where I joined around 500 migrants from different traffickers. The traffickers provided orientations in three Ethiopian languages. In these orientations, they told us not to look back if we heard sounds of weapons by Saudi police, but to run towards Saudi. “If a weapon hits your friend, don’t look back, and don’t try to help your friend. You should run forward,” they said. All of us Ethiopian migrants then followed the Yemeni trafficker to a main car road with a fence at the bottom of the mountain, where the firing of weapons started by Saudi police wearing green uniforms with symbols. As I used to be a policeman in Ethiopia, I knew what I had to do when weapons were being fired. While the Saudi police were firing weapons at us, many migrants were running either backwards or forwards and became victims, but I was moving like a snake to escape from the bullets. That helped me to survive. After the firing, the Saudi police approached migrants who were victims of bullets and communicated with ambulance drivers about which migrants had died. Six ambulances came to collect the dead bodies, and other police took those who survived into other cars.
Seventeen of us, including myself, escaped the Saudi police and followed Yemeni traffickers to a place called Abrish in Saudi Arabia. There we met more than 200 Ethiopian, Somali, Nigerian, and Kenyan migrants. The traffickers asked us where we wanted to go, and based on our destination choice, we were charged different fees. We had to deposit 4,500 Riyal (approximately 1,200 USD) for Riyadh City or 5,500 Riyal (approximately 1,466 USD) for Jeddah City. I didn’t have money or any relatives who could pay the traffickers in Saudi Arabia, so I convinced them to let me work for them, feeding goats for 700 Riyal (approximately 187 USD) per month. During the six months that I worked for them, the trafficker faced conflict with Saudi police, who came to the trafficker’s house, took all migrants, and put us in prison. I could speak Arabic with the police, so I told him I could give him 2,500 Riyal (approximately 666 USD) if he released me. They agreed and released me in Manfuhah, where I encountered four Ethiopians working on a tomato farm. They helped me find a job as a guard and coffee server for an Arabic man, earning 1,200 Riyal (approximately 320 USD) per month. After one year, my employer obtained servants who could work for less salary, so he let me go. A female Saudi citizen then hired me, promising a good salary. My job was to pack and prepare hand soap and Dettol, used for restrooms. It was an illegal business, but she sold these products for a big profit. She also helped me to bring my wife to Saudi. I paid her around 4,000 Riyal (approximately 1,066 USD) and she helped me to process the legal papers for my wife.
When my wife arrived, we started living together, and she became pregnant and gave birth to a boy. We stayed in Saudi Arabia for two years and four months, but eventually, Saudi authorities decided to deport all illegal Ethiopian migrants. The police came to my house while my wife was out shopping, and they took me and my child to prison. I spent six months in Riyadh prison, where any migrants who made a disturbance were beaten.
Upon release, my son and I were deported to Ethiopia. There were 120 migrants on our plane from Riyadh, and the Ethiopian government gave 2,000 Birr (approximately 36 USD) to help with my transportation from Addis Ababa back to Kibet. It was also enough money to buy some milk for my son and other childcare materials. Within three days, I was back in my birth city. It has been one year now since I returned to Ethiopia, and I’m still waiting for my wife to return.