Obstetric Abuse Is Widespread in Yemen, Women Say

This article is co-published with Egab.

When her labor pains began, Manal Hashem, 28, sought help at a local clinic in Yemen’s southwestern Taiz province, where she lives. But, instead of receiving care, she was subjected to forceful pressure on her abdomen and a perineal cut, all part of an aggressive, failed attempt to deliver her baby boy.

Hours later, as her condition worsened, she was transferred to a hospital. It was there, in a sterile room filled with the hum of machines, that she heard the words no mother wants to hear.

“After the examination, the doctor informed me that my baby had passed away,” she told More to Her Story, “She said it was because of the violent way they tried to deliver him.”

The maternal mortality ratio in the Middle East and North Africa region has dropped significantly, reaching 56 deaths per 100,000 live births in 2020. In Yemen, second only to Somalia, childbirth remains a harrowing gamble. With 183 deaths per 100,000 live births, a mother dies every two hours, often from preventable causes, according to a report released last year by the United Nations Population Fund. 

Losing her baby devastated Hashem, leaving her “emotionally scarred and terrified of going through childbirth again,” she said.

A similar trauma befell Asmaa al-Shaibani, 30. She not only experienced physical harm, but she also endured verbal abuse, too. Fatima Al-Bahar, a relative, recounted what happened inside the delivery room.

“The midwife was harsh with Asmaa. When she didn’t respond due to fear, the midwife slapped her legs and ordered two nurses to press down on her abdomen, even though the birth was clearly complicated,” she said. “That caused severe tears in her uterus.”

Asmaa, already frightened and vulnerable, was humiliated.

“The midwife kept mocking her with foul language, ridiculing her for being scared and embarrassed,” Fatima added.

A survey by Manasati30, a Yemeni youth platform, found that 70 percent of women in Yemen report experiencing violence during childbirth, from verbal mistreatment to life-threatening physical harm.

Scars that last

“Women may experience bruising, lacerations, and increased risk of perineal or cervical tears,” Asmaa al-Sabri, a Yemeni gynecologist in Taiz, explained. “Newborns aren’t spared either, they can suffer dislocated shoulders or hips, head trauma, or even fractures.”

Beyond the physical trauma, the psychological toll is profound. Karima Al-Samadi, a Yemeni psychologist in Taiz,  said that violent births can lead to long-term mental health challenges, including post-traumatic stress disorder.

“Women could be haunted by flashbacks,” she told More to Her Story. “Verbal or physical abuse during childbirth strips them of control and dignity. They feel helpless, ashamed.”

Such experiences can also interfere with the bonding between a mother and her newborn, experts say.

“Some women feel alienated from their babies or struggle to connect because of the trauma,” al-Samadi said. “These wounds run deep; they make women fearful of future pregnancies and distrustful of medical staff.”

Obstetric violence is rooted in a tangled web of social, professional, and psychological factors.

Mahmoud Al-Bakari, a Yemeni sociologist in Taiz, pointed to a broader cultural context. 

“From a medical sociology perspective, Yemeni society, like many others, has developed its own traditional practices to address health needs,” he said. “This includes traditional childbirth methods, which are often seen as necessary, even if they're outdated or harmful.”

Al-Bakari also said that within Yemeni society, traditional birthing practices, though often harmful, are not perceived as violent. 

“These are seen as primitive techniques born out of necessity,” he said. “Over time, they became normalized and accepted as a form of folk medicine.” 

However, he warned, these methods “pose serious risks to both mother and child.”

The persistence of such practices, al-Bakari argued, is compounded by the broader collapse of maternal health services. 

“Many clinics lack essential equipment, suffer from poor funding, and operate in areas neglected by development efforts, especially rural regions,” he added. 

Blame and pressure in the delivery room

Psychologist Karima al-Samadi, based in Taiz, sees the roots of obstetric violence in the emotional strain endured by healthcare workers. 

“Working in overcrowded maternity wards with insufficient staff creates constant stress and burnout,” she said. “That stress can turn into aggression.”

Less than half of all births in Yemen are attended by trained professionals and only one in three deliveries takes place in a health facility. As a result, more than 5.5 million women of reproductive age remain in urgent need of improved maternal healthcare.

Repeated exposure to trauma can lead to "emotional numbness," al-Samadi said, a defense mechanism in which medical staff detach from their patients. 

“They stop seeing laboring women as people in need of compassion and instead treat them like just another case,” she said.

Bahia al-Khalidi, a midwife in Taiz, says that a doula, a non-medical professional who helps with childbirth, can carry the weight of her personal life into her work, potentially impacting how she treats her patients.

“Night shifts are the worst. We’re often dealing with complicated births while overwhelmed and fatigued,” she said. “Sometimes, personal stress spills over.” 

She also acknowledged that poor training plays a role, and some midwives “simply don’t have the competence required.”

According to al-Sabri, part of the issue lies in strained interactions between stressed medical staff and laboring mothers, 

"Some nurses and midwives lose patience under pressure, especially when they feel the woman isn't cooperating during labor," she said. “There’s also a widespread belief that being rough speeds up labor. Such misconceptions contribute to the normalization of harsh treatment.”

Toward a safer birth

To combat obstetric violence in Yemen, al-Bakari noted the need to raise public awareness about modern medical practices and expand access to specialized facilities. 

“We need widespread education campaigns,” he said, “and an overhaul of rural healthcare.”

He also called for training programs to help medical staff deliver safer, more compassionate care.

“We need to teach healthcare workers how to provide psychological support,” al-Samadi told More to Her Story, saying that “a gentle, humane approach benefits both mother and baby.”

She also stressed the urgent need for psychological care in maternity wards. 

“Hospitals must have mental health professionals on staff,” she said, “to support women before, during, and after childbirth.”

A recent field visit by More to Her Story to several public and private hospitals in Taiz confirmed the gap. Despite the critical need, not a single maternity ward had a psychologist or dedicated mental health space. The only support came from obstetricians who offered limited advice during routine prenatal checkups.

“For many Yemeni women, childbirth remains a harrowing ordeal, not just a medical challenge, but an emotional one compounded by systemic neglect and the weight of tradition,” al-Sabri said. “Without systemic intervention, the delivery room will remain, for too many, a place of trauma rather than joy.”