Dar Saad

Yemeni mp

Ahmed Saif Hashed

Aden, Dar Saad—the place I lived in during the gentle days of childhood, when innocence was fresh and dreams were unspoiled. I lived there again as a teenager, in the vibrant bloom of youth. Dar Saad was a place of unity, diversity, and beauty. It was a spectrum of colors that grew brighter with joy, a mosaic that defied the narrow voices whispering, “You are not from here.” It turned empty spaces into sources of inspiration and wonder. It was a life rich with coexistence, harmony, and all that is human and shared.

In Dar Saad, people married, lived, and coexisted in love, peace, and understanding. Yemenis lived beside Somalis, Bedouins beside those from Dhalea, Indians beside Zubaidis, Qubatis beside Wahtis, Zaydis beside Shaharis. Dar Saad was a home and a refuge for everyone.

Those who came from the mountains and countryside lived in harmony with the people of Aden, whether they were locals or newcomers. Dar Saad welcomed all without pride or favor. It made room for them in its heart, opened its arms and its soul, and spread a lasting peace among them. It never turned away anyone in need of shelter, sustenance, or belonging.

Dar Saad is the Martyr Aboud Secondary School, which makes you wish you could cast off your adulthood into the deep sea and return to those classrooms to learn what you were once denied in your youth. It is the Kamsari Garden, where children found joy every Friday and young people sought the comfort of its wide shade. It offered them a sense of poetry and flow, a sweetness of conversation shared with those they loved.

Dar Saad is the cinema where I watched films that became part of my consciousness and stayed with me for life. It is the Hammadi restaurant, Thabet’s fava beans, and the swimming pool I used to sneak into like a fish seeking a brief escape, only to be stopped by the compassion of sunset and the fading of light. It was a pool I wished the sun would never leave nor the light fade from.

Dar Saad is the home of the two blossoms who helped me find my missing half, the one I had long searched for until despair nearly overtook my heart and silenced my hopes. It is the karma that made up for the sorrows and disappointments love once brought me.

Dar Saad is the Street of Hope, the Street of Peace, and the Street of Success. It is the orchards that became a haven and a home for those who fled the long and bitter Somali war that lasted for more than twenty years.

Dar Saad is Mohammed Ahmed Al-Hammadi, Moqbel Al-Qaoud, Ashour Hussein Al-Khatib, Mohammed Haidarah, Saif Salooh, Ahmed Qasim Al-Naoui, Abdulsalam Mohammed Ahmed, Adel Amen, Adnan Thabet, Fawz Omar, Ahmed Fadhl, Ali Al-Rabeih, Fadhl Al-Kuraidi, my uncles Farid Hashed and Mohammed Al-Harbi, and the kind-hearted Tayyib Saeed Al-Kuraeen and his generous wife Fatima—and all its good, gentle people.

Dar Saad is rhythm and joy. There I listened, and there I delighted in the voice of happiness and in the cherished smile carried by the enchanting voice of the beloved singer Ahmed Yousef Al-Zubaidi as he sang:

The heart is torn, in love with two.

To whom shall I give my heart, and to whom my eyes?

If I tell the dark one, ‘Oh dark one, I love you,’

The fair one replies, ‘Then where will you go from me?

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