IOM Yemen: Progress Starts at Home - What Happens When a Community Takes Charge of Water

Ibb, Yemen 

The land is tired. In Ibb, months without rain have hardened the soil and left the hills cracked and bare. The mountains that used to be green now look faded under the sun. In the valley, houses stand close together, their walls covered in dust. On almost every doorstep, empty jerry cans wait in the shade, a sign of how rare water has become. For families here, searching for water is part of everyday life, and every hot wind brings the smell of dry earth and quiet worry. 

Abdujalel stands on the hillside, a father and deputy governor who has spent years trying to help his town survive. His eyes are fixed on the homes below. “Water is the backbone of life,” he says quietly, the strain of the past years clear in his voice. “Without it, people lose their dignity. Children get sick, fields dry up, and the things we hope for begin to slip away.” 

For years, the town relied on a water system powered by diesel. The pipes rumbled to life only when enough money could be found for fuel – a difficult task in a place where public salaries have been frozen and the local currency continues to lose its value. Families who once paid a modest fee to fill their tanks now face bills as high as USD 24 a week, forcing many to make impossible choices between water and food.

More than 17 million people in Yemen go without safe water, sanitation, or basic hygiene. In rural communities like Al Nadirah, the shortage shapes every part of daily life. Here, running out of water is more than an inconvenience – it fuels malnutrition, drives disease, and strains already fragile relationships.

“The cost of diesel made it impossible to keep the water flowing. Even a few hours of pumping would use up a barrel. The town couldn’t keep up and families couldn’t bear the expense.” – Emad, IOM WASH Engineer 

Turning Point

Fuel shortages were more than just a logistical hurdle; they threatened lives. Each time water deliveries stopped, families faced a greater risk of disease and malnutrition. As water access dwindled, frustration simmered. “We worried people would reach a breaking point,” Abdujalel says. “Water can bring people together, but when it’s scarce, it can also drive them apart.” 

With the town under strain, the International Organization for Migration (IOM) stepped in. Working closely with local authorities, IOM launched an ambitious plan to solarize the water system. For many residents, it felt almost unbelievable. 

“I remember when the panels went up for the first time,” says Ghobran, a community volunteer who helped implement the project. “They stretched out toward the sky, catching the sun. For once, we had power from something no one could ration or control: sunlight.” 

Switching from diesel to solar meant more than just a technical change. It opened up new possibilities. Now, the system runs for hours each day without fuel, costs are down, and water keeps flowing even when fuel supplies are cut off or prices rise. 

“Before, we had to ration water every day,” says Abdujalel. “Now it comes more often and people no longer have to stand in line, anxious that the taps will run dry.”

Lasting Impact

The move to solar power aligns with Yemen’s national priorities for water, sanitation, and hygiene. By focusing on climate-adaptive solutions, the country is working to strengthen fragile systems and reduce its reliance on uncertain fuel supplies. 

The benefits stretch far beyond the water tanks. With a steady supply, girls can stay in school instead of missing hours to collect water. Farmers have a real chance to bring their fields back to life. Families spend less on medicine and more on food. “It’s not just about what comes out of the pipes,” Emad says. “It’s about restoring a system that lets people live their lives.” 

In Al Nadirah District, the upgraded network now serves more than 14,000 people. Before, the diesel-powered system ran sporadically, often reaching only a few neighbourhoods when fuel was scarce and costs soared. As public workers went unpaid and prices kept rising, water slipped out of reach for thousands. 

By switching to solar, the project replaced an unreliable diesel system with renewable energy, reducing costs and increasing the hours that water is available. Now, water flows more regularly and reaches more homes, especially those that were previously left out because of distance or income. For IOM, this is not just one of the largest WASH projects in Ibb, but a model of what is possible when humanitarian action is guided by community needs, technical innovation, and long-term thinking. 

“We are proud of what this means for our people,” Emad notes. “It’s not just infrastructure. It’s stability. It’s dignity.”

But the challenges are far from over. Yemen is still one of the most water-scarce countries in the world, and the effects of conflict continue to shape daily life. Millions remain without safe water and systems like the one in Ibb depend on regular upkeep and attention.

That’s where community members like Ghobran play a crucial role. Although he isn’t an engineer, he has learned how to carry out routine checks and handle minor maintenance himself. For more serious issues, he knows to reach out to local authorities or contact IOM for support.

“It makes us feel included. We’re not just waiting for help – we’re part of the solution.” – Ghobran, Community Member 

Dreams Take Root

Solar-powered water systems are moving Yemen’s humanitarian response away from short-term fixes toward lasting, affordable solutions. In a country where nearly 20 million people need aid and resources are stretched thin, IOM’s community-led maintenance approach helps ensure sustainability and real local ownership, even where support is scarce. 

With this sense of community, Abdujalel is beginning to dream beyond today’s needs. He talks about training centers for young people, expanding solar systems to nearby villages, and turning resilience into lasting progress.  

“We cannot afford to go backward,” he says. “This project has shown us that growth is possible, even when the country is on its knees.” 

At home, his children no longer ask if there will be water. They wash their hands freely, without worrying about emptying the tank. It is a quiet change, but one that fills him with hope. “When I see my youngest playing outside in clean clothes, splashing water on his face, I know we did something right.”