Ghada Al-Nakhai Shares Her Story on “2osas Hayat”

 

Ghada Al-Nakhai’s story didn’t begin with violence. It began with ambition.

A Yemeni woman who studied, worked, and built a life she was proud of, Ghada entered marriage believing it would be a partnership grounded in love. Instead, she found herself trapped in a tightening cycle of jealousy, control, beatings, and threats, ending in one of the most extreme forms of abuse: the abduction of her two children, and a mother denied the right to see them for three years.

Ghada’s case is not an isolated tragedy. It reflects a wider patriarchal legal and social system, one that empowers abusers, restricts survivors, and prioritizes “the father’s right” over children’s safety and a mother’s right to care for them.

The podcast “2osas Hayat” creates a space where women take center stage, sharing their pain, their battles, their victories, and the long road of resisting a patriarchal order that has tried to silence them for decades.

Between Lebanon and Egypt, amid the absence of a legally recognized divorce, death threats, and travel restrictions, Ghada found herself facing laws that did not protect her, and children who were punished simply because their mother chose to survive.

Her story is not only about separation. It is a testimony of domestic violence, child abduction, and how laws can become instruments of oppression when they fail to protect those most vulnerable. Ghada tells her full story through “2osas Hayat”.

 

“2osas Hayat”: Women at the Heart of the Story

“2osas Hayat” is a platform built around women’s lived experiences, where their grief is heard, their struggles are documented, and their resilience is recognized.

The podcast brings forward stories of women from different nationalities and backgrounds, listening closely to what they endured, the injustices they faced, the strength they rebuilt, and the moment they decided their voices would no longer be suppressed.

 

Ghada: From Passion and Ambition to a Cycle of Abuse

Ghada introduces herself with disarming simplicity:

“I’m Ghada Ali Al-Nakhai. I’m Yemeni. I’m the mother of two boys, Mohammad and Amin, 9 and 10 years old. I’m very ambitious, I love life. I studied and worked, and I was successful in my education and my career.”

Before marriage, she worked with organizations, at university, and across several fields, driven by curiosity, learning, and a belief that marriage should be a partnership, not the erasure of a woman’s identity.

Speaking on “2osas Hayat”, she says:

“I chose to marry for love. I dreamed of a relationship built on respect and understanding.”

 

A “Perfect” Beginning… and Ignored Warning Signs

Ghada married a Lebanese university professor she met during her studies. At first, she describes the relationship as “impressive,” even dazzling.

But the first warning sign appeared early: obsessive jealousy.

“The first red flag was extreme jealousy, almost to the point of obsession,” she says.

In the early months, she dismissed the signs, carried by love and trust. She was pregnant when the first violent incident happened, far from her family, and newly displaced from Yemen because of the war.

Like many women who have been taught that jealousy is proof of love, Ghada says:

“I used to interpret his jealousy as love. I never expected him to become violent.”

 

Physical Violence: When “Love” Turns Into Suffocation

Ghada recalls the moment she nearly lost her life:

“The first time he hit me, he strangled me while I was pregnant. My face literally turned blue.”

It was not an isolated assault. The violence became recurring, and one incident left permanent damage.

“He slapped me so hard my jaw shifted out of place. To this day, I still have inflammation in the balance nerve,” she says.

The abuse was not only physical. Ghada describes psychological, emotional, and financial violence as well, neglect, humiliation, constant control, and restrictions on her independence.

“I worked, I helped him at home, in construction, in everything,” she says. “And I never heard a single word of appreciation.”

 

The Children Witnessed the Violence

For Ghada, the most devastating realization was that her children had seen the abuse.

“My son told his aunt: ‘Dad hit Mom in the hallway.’ I was shocked,” she says.

Despite the emotional and physical toll, Ghada tried to shield her children from the conflict and protect them psychologically.

“I separated my brokenness from them,” she explains. “Their well-being came before anything else.”

 

Divorce by Phone, and a Death Threat

When Ghada asked to visit her family in Egypt, as she did every year, the disagreement escalated quickly into threats and abandonment.

“He told me: If you don’t come back in ten days, you’re divorced.”

The divorce was spoken, but never formally registered. What followed was even more dangerous.

“He threatened to kill me,” Ghada says. “He told me: I’ll kill you, I’ll kill the kids, and then I’ll kill myself.”

In yet another form of retaliation that often targets women who resist male control, Ghada says her ex-husband hacked her accounts, attempted to destroy her professional reputation, and pressured her financially and emotionally.

“He would call TV stations to remove my interviews,” she says. “Out of spite, because he hated my success.”

 

The Deception: “I Took Them to the Airport Myself”

After a long period of apologies, Ghada did not realize her ex-husband was preparing what she describes as a calculated deception, one that ended in the kidnapping of their two children.

She agreed the boys could visit their father in Lebanon for one month.

Then she pauses. She cries.

“I took them to the airport with my own hands,” she says.

After the children arrived, she received a message that shattered everything:

“No one will see the kids. Don’t even dream of seeing them.”

From that day on, she has not seen them again—three years of complete separation.

 

What Happened to Mohammad and Amin?

In Egypt, Ghada says her sons were thriving: high-performing at school, active in sports, surrounded by structured activities.

“They were being honored every week at school,” she recalls. “I enrolled them in clubs, sports, and academies for cooking and drawing, based on what they loved.”

After their abduction to Lebanon, she says their lives changed dramatically.

“Their grades dropped. He erased their interests. They sit at home holding a phone,” she says.

She describes what she sees as neglect, both physical and emotional:

“Even medical checkups, he would ask me to handle them.”

 

Why Doesn’t Ghada Go Back to Lebanon?

It is the question she hears most often: Why don’t you return to Lebanon?

Her answer is blunt, and painful.

“I don’t have official divorce papers,” she says. “The moment I enter the airport, he could force me into ‘house of obedience,’ or impose a travel ban. I could become a prisoner.”

Ghada openly criticizes Lebanon’s patriarchal legal framework, saying it enables abusers and leaves mothers powerless.

“The law lets a criminal father dominate vulnerable children,” she says.

 

“My Children Need a Strong Mother, Not a Victim”

Ghada describes the days after the kidnapping as total paralysis.

“The first ten days, I was destroyed. I couldn’t move from bed,” she says. “Mohammad and Amin didn’t like speaking to me when I was in that state.”

Then she made a decision, conscious and deliberate:

“My children don’t need a victim mother,” she says. “They need a strong mother.”

She says she draws strength from her children, her friends, her family, and the support she received when she chose to speak publicly, sharing her story on Instagram.

She pauses, then speaks with pride:

“Mohammad and Amin are my strength. They still make me proud. They’re my friends, and I’m the keeper of their secrets… and their father hasn’t been able to damage our relationship to this day.”

 

“Even If We Break, We Have God”

Ghada’s message to the Lebanese and Yemeni governments is clear:

“Protect the child. The law must protect children from both fathers and mothers if they are harmful.”

To women, she says:

“Even if we break, we have God. Draw strength from Him, and speak out loud.”

And to her children, she ends with the words that carry her through:

“I’m proud of you in every way. My strength is in you, and you are what keeps me strong.”