Living as a Yemeni Christian is like living among wolves. But never did Zahra think it would cost her one of the most precious people in her life. Now, she lives with great sadness and a constant fear that she could be targeted next. But her ministry is worth the risk—and so is loving Jesus.
THE PHONE CALL
One afternoon Zahra* received a call.
She remembers the day well because the sky beyond her window was as heavy and sombre as the words she could hear but barely believe.
“Anis* was killed,” the caller said.
Killed?
It can’t be.
The threats weren’t serious—were they?
Anis was Zahra’s brother in Christ. They spread the good news of Jesus together.
“I really enjoyed my ministry,” Zahra says. “I used to talk to young girls and women while he served the men. It was a fruitful time, and God was working through us! However, when the extremists took over our town, Anis started receiving several threats.”
A week before he died, Anis received one that said:
“You infidel… we will kill you.”
Up until that phone call, Zahra thought nothing of the threats.
Yemen was intolerant of Christians.
Threats were expected.
“I read those messages just like the other threats we’ve received before,” Zahra explains. “However, this time they were serious; they were planning to kill Anis.”
Seven fleeting days later, Anis was killed at midday while his children watched.
Zahra was in utter shock.
The messages threatening her good friend’s life haunted her.
“I was terrified. I hadn’t believed them back when he showed them to me,” she says, the pain of his loss surging anew. “But now, it’s different. What if I was next?”
Zahra needed time to think.
She needed to grieve.
She needed God.
A FAMILY CONSUMED BY GRIEF
“He was killed because he was a Christian,” Zahra says, tears budding onto her cheeks. “He told me to take care of his family if the extremists ever carried out their threats. But in that moment, I couldn’t help them. I needed to help myself first. I needed God more than ever.”
Zahra took time to mourn and pray.
Weeks passed and the promise she made to Anis cried louder for attention.
She needed to be there for his wife and kids.
“I couldn’t remain in hiding and drowning in sorrow,” Zahra says.
But she was still underwater, still in the throes of sadness and denial.
She needed courage just to leave the house, but she couldn’t stay there any longer either.
A promise is a promise.
Zahra visited Anis’ family who met her with troubled souls and hollow stares.
His wife wasn’t a believer like Anis had been, but her love for him was deep and real.
“She was devastated,” Zahra shares. “She had become a widow and a single mum of two kids overnight. I had to stand by her and tell her about Jesus. Only He can help her now.”
Anis’ children were just as traumatised. Zahra remembers what it was like in the first raw days following his death.
“If my father was not a Christian, he would still be alive,” the eldest had said, his words roiling with anger.
Zahra sighs sadly. “I tried my best to be there and strengthen the family, constantly praying for God’s support and empowerment.”
NO COURAGE WITHOUT FEAR
Zahra’s days feel darker without Anis.
His absence is also a persistent reminder that she could be next.
How would death come for her?
Would it happen like it did for him?
First the threat and then…
She mustn’t think about it.
Zahra is a believer and a woman in a country where Christians are hated, and women are considered insignificant. That is the blade’s edge she walks every day and the animosity she faces for loving Jesus.
But she’s determined not to let fear stop her from reaching out to Yemeni women and creating a safe place for them to deepen their faith.
This is her ministry.
It’s terrifying and unpredictable, but the growth of the women she serves gives her joy and assurance that she’s where God needs her to be.
“I believe God has put me in this place to impact the lives of these women,” she says. “To bring them hope, and to reflect the true light of Christ amid the horrific situation we are all living in.”
Zahra knows she is followed by secret police—that like every Yemeni Christian, she lives among wolves.
“We are afraid of the extremists and the government itself, as at this point, they all work together against Christians,” she explains. “This reality discourages us a lot of times, especially that we can’t go out with boldness to tell others about Jesus.
“At the same time, we know that we are stewards of God’s commandments. I have chosen this way, and I know of the trials that come alongside this decision. Jesus took my pain, my suffering, and my guilt. He carried His cross, and now it is my turn to carry the cross and continue the journey.”
*Names changed for security reasons