Many people throughout my life have curiously and harmlessly asked me, ‘Where does your colour come from Macauley?’. A question which I have always been comfortable with, yet, I haven’t been so comfortable with my response. I would usually laugh off the fact that my Dad has never known his real dad (which is true) and that I am unsure of the origin of the 25% which makes me who I am, although that isn’t the case. The truth is, until now, I have been in many ways too ashamed to tell others. Yet, when taking the time to reflect on this, I am more ashamed of being ashamed to share with others my family roots. As a teacher, a job I love dearly, I am committed to inspiring others to be proud of who they are – yet I haven’t been entirely proud of who I am, until now.
 
My Grandfather was from Yemen, making up a quarter of who I am today. Yemen is a country supposedly filled with natural beauty; however, the harsh reality is that the recent conflict has left the country ‘a living hell’. After seeing continuous pleas from charities to support humanitarian crises all over the world in recent years, I am ashamed to say I have become de-sensitised to these cries for help – until now. De-sensitised until I began to look at the cries for help from a different perspective. What if this was me crying for help? What if this were my family crying for help? What if this were the children I teach, crying for help? Without food, without family, without hope for a better future. Without hope for a future at all. I would pray for others around the world - others more fortunate - to hear our cries. But what if they never got heard? What then?
 
Yemen today is the ‘largest humanitarian crisis in the world’ (UNICEF, 2020). 12 million children alone are in need of humanitarian assistance. 12 million children are crying out for help. 12 million children who did not chose to be a part of this.
 
‘Children continue to be killed and maimed in the conflict’ (UNICEF, 2020). Around 2 million children under 5 years old are suffering from acute malnutrition and require treatment. 2 million children crying out for help. Crying out for food and water. Crying out for a better future. Crying out, for a future at all. 
 
I have ignored their cries for long enough, but now I am listening. 
 
Just £11 could provide life-saving food for a child for a week. £11 could be the difference between hope and despair. The difference between life and death. 
 
For this reason, I am running a half marathon for those children crying out for help in Yemen. The country without which, I wouldn’t be who I am today. I feel like it is my time to try and make a difference. I am not ashamed anymore. 
 
I know that times are tough in our own country at the minute too, people have lost their jobs, lost their loved ones. So, by no means am I expecting people to just donate. Reading this and being aware of the cries of others will be more than enough for me. But if 11 people donated just £1, a child could be fed for a whole week. So please, if you are fortunate enough to donate – no matter how big or how small the donation – please do. I will be donating £2 for each of the 21km I am going to run. 

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Thank you for taking the time to read this, 

 
Macauley Alexander