Fatima was born in the village of Beit Al-Ashabi - Al-Mahwit governorate. She is a writer, poet and author. She was deprived of education because of the customs that prevailed on girls’ education. She, secretly, learned the basics of reading and writing with self-effort. When her father, who was a tribal Sheikh, knew about this, he was overjoyed. He brought her a tutor home. He taught her the Holy Koran, intonation, jurisprudence, biography, interpretation, grammar and other sciences. After her marriage, she intermittently attended formal education until she entered university. She worked as a researcher at the Yemeni Studies and Research Center in Sana'a, then as deputy director of the Yemeni Cultural Center in Cairo.
Her Literary Works:
It is Fatima, a collection of poems that were released in Baghdad.
Dawn Glow (in association), published in 1991.
Herbal Folk, a poetry collection.
Tomorrow We'll Be Together, a poetry collection.
We Might Laugh One Day, a poetic collection.
Daughter of the Sheik, a novel.
She has participated in a number of literary festivals and forums and has received a number of awards and certificates of recognition. She is a member of a number of federations, syndicates, and literary and feminist organizations.
Here is a part from a poem of hers entitled “The Homeland in a Diplomatic Briefcase":
In despair I flog my ribs
and pour my heart into my deep bottoms
I have sacrificed the life in the name of my chivalry
to soften the heart of the rock under my fingers
I filled myself with negligence to the core
so fields of thorns grew in my heart
I am more remorseful with the result of loss
than with my remorse to my disorientation
And I roam the lands of the mirage with my defect
and heal the griefs with sorrows
I blindfolded the emotions of my eyes
with my blood-colored tears
It's okay if time storms my oasis
and my soul breaks on my branches
It's okay if the place is expelled my chivalry
to take refuge from my prison to my prisoner
It's okay if the place expelled my chivalry
to escape from my prison to my jailer
It is okay if my resurrection takes place against me
and I escape from myself to Satan
It's okay if existence hears my plight
because my sterile voice did not give birth to my power
I adored and preserved my miserable homeland
from vein to vein, yet it abandoned me
It was forced on me to leave for my loneliness
how hard displacement is in my homeland
Oh, maybe the disorientation opened my eyes
to see a stranger leading me to my end
Oh, I might be suspicious of him coming towards me
and I might give him hugs
And maybe he'll pluck me out of my soil
and replant me out of mind
I have neither family nor
parents, or what necessitates my disobedience
She has another poem entitled "Longing for the Beginning"
On the path of my compulsive night
I hesitated like a bewildered nightingale
I stood bandaging the night wound
all I had was the temptation of the misfortune
I stood panting on the hunchback
tired of my lost footsteps
I looked at yesterday in heartbreak
and how I traveled to my presence
And how I asked the darkness about tomorrow
when longing has shone in my eyes
I cry when I will cross the sea; caring not
about the roaring and raging waves
And I have a strong determination
and my heart has the wakefulness of a bird
But after a restless quest
I came across what I forgot
And that is only a supply for tomorrow
in my heart like a sinking desert spring
And he who has less supply in his journey
is the most miserable person.