As the ghastly sounds of war inched toward their home in Yemen, 2-year-old Fida and her family were surrounded. It was only a matter of time before the bombs reached them. They waited for a break, then ran for their lives.
That's exactly when another deadly airstrike hit.
Fida's father Omar Mohamed tried to shield the toddler from the explosion, but shrapnel tore through her back and put a deep gash in her arm. Fida's sister was blinded in one eye. Omar carried his injured daughters for two hours until they reached an emergency aid station.
After a year in the hospital, Fida still has shrapnel lodged in her fragile little body. She clings to Omar's shirt as he explains, "My baby needs more surgery, and we cannot afford it. She's in pain and cannot breathe."
Neighbors in Yemen need food, water and medical care
Meanwhile, the family lives in a displacement camp, in a crude shelter made of salvaged cardboard and old vinyl signs. Emergency aid has not yet reached them in the camp. They sort through the trash for food, and water is scarce. Hungry and exhausted, Omar worries what will happen to his daughters if he gets sick from coronavirus.
"We feel safe here in the camp, but there is nothing. We have no food," he says, burying his head in his hands. "I feel ashamed I can no longer bring my family food."
Worse, in the middle of a pandemic, as many as 40 families share just one latrine. With such poor sanitation, disease can spread quickly. As a result, we are in imminent danger of losing a whole generation of children in what has become the world's worst humanitarian crisis.