As dawn breaks over the mist-shrouded peaks of the Hawf Protected Area in Yemen’s easternmost al-Mahra province, bordering Oman, Ramadan Ahmed begins his steep climb.

Among hundreds of Somali workers harvesting frankincense, Ahmed, a resin collector, risks life and limb navigating rain-slicked cliffs and jagged terrain under the relentless sun. The golden resin he collects from Boswellia trees is destined for markets across the Gulf and the West, where it is coveted for its use in perfumes, incense, and traditional medicine.

“This season has been the hardest,” Ahmed said in Somali, as a companion translated into Arabic. He recently suffered multiple fractures in a fall, one of several accidents involving his group. “We were lucky. Many have lost limbs or even their lives in these mountains. But we have no choice. This is our only source of livelihood,” he tells TRT World.

To Ahmed, who fled Somalia’s decades-long civil war four years ago, this dangerous work is a necessity. Growing up in Somalia, he worked as a frankincense resin collector, and for him and the hundreds of others who have crossed the Red Sea to Yemen, it remains one of the few viable sources of livelihood, especially as Yemen grapples with one of the world’s worst humanitarian crises.

Somali migrants like Ahmed now dominate Yemen’s frankincense harvest, a trade increasingly abandoned by native Yemenis. 

According to Abdulaziz Mohammed Ibrahim, head of the Somali Refugee Affairs Council in al-Mahra, more than 1,000 Somali migrants are employed in the frankincense trade.

“Al-Mahra is home to approximately 1,500 Somali migrants, including 1,000 single men and women, and 400 Somali families who have settled in the region over the years,” he says. “Among them, about 100 women and children contribute to supporting their families.”

According to Ahmed, Somali labourers spend one to two days on foot carrying resin to market, trekking over 18 kilometres of mountainous terrain.

Hawf’s frankincense forests lie more than 35 kilometres round trip from the town’s centre, with no infrastructure or roads in the protected area. Workers endure this gruelling journey four times each season, vanishing into the forests for days and returning battered, dehydrated, wounded, and scarred by their crude harvesting tools.

“It’s scariest when injuries happen,” he says. “We had no way to get help. My friends had to carry me on their backs. The doctor told me that the way they carried me only made my injuries worse.”

Faltering market

Since 2015, al-Mahra has remained under the nominal control of Yemen’s internationally recognised government and largely avoided direct conflict. However, it has seen an influx of displaced Yemenis and become a hotspot for regional power rivalries.

According to Salem Yasser, a tribal elder in Hawf, Somali workers now dominate resin harvesting, but that was not always the case.

"Frankincense harvesting was once a generational trade," he says. "But rising costs, the lure of urban jobs, harsh conditions, and a lack of infrastructure have led many Yemenis to abandon it. For centuries, we traded frankincense and myrrh, commodities that shaped the region’s economy, but things have changed."

Now, Somali workers dominate the harvest, setting up temporary camps in the Hawf highlands. “Somalia has vast frankincense forests,” Yasser tells TRT World. “Their workers know the trade well and deserve a place in this industry here in Yemen.”

In the markets of al-Ghaydah, frankincense is dried, cleaned, and prepared for export. Ameer Belhaf, a local merchant, said customers range from local Yemenis to buyers from Oman, the UAE, Saudi Arabia, and Qatar. “Many purchase in bulk, drawn to the resin’s rich fragrance and traditional medicinal properties,” he tells TRT World.

Belhaf buys 30-kilogram sacks for up to 150,000 Yemeni riyals ($64). ). After cleaning and sorting, he sells it in smaller quantities: incense-grade frankincense goes for 8,000 riyals ($3.40) per kilogram, while medicinal-grade resin sells for 20,000 riyals ($8.50) per kilogram. 

“The real profit goes to the middlemen,” he said, adding that traders like him and labourers “get only scraps.” Meanwhile, Yemeni wild-harvested frankincense is listed on international e-commerce platforms for as much as $197 per kilogram.

Industry in decline

Despite its historic importance, Yemen’s frankincense trade is in trouble. Saeed Al-Qumeiri, director of the Agricultural and Irrigation Office in al-Mahra, warns of unsustainable practices. “Many Mahri families have abandoned the trade, leaving a vacuum now filled by Somali migrants, who collect and export the resin with little oversight,” he says. “But improper harvesting practices are also accelerating the decline of frankincense trees.”

Many Somali labourers lacking formal training, he said, often cut too deeply into the bark, leaving wounds that weaken the trees. These weakened trunks are more likely to collapse, when exposed to strong winds and excess moisture in their mountainous habitat.  

“The workers’ main goal is to extract as much frankincense as possible for quick profit,” Ethnain Kawsat, a former director at the Ministry of Water and Environment, explained to TRT World. “Whether intentionally or not, they are putting these trees at risk. Proper oversight through direct monitoring or electronic tracking should be implemented to ensure sustainable harvesting.”

Environmental pressures compound the crisis. A recent study identified 8,143 individual frankincense trees across Yemen, representing nine different species. Alarmingly, three of these species are critically endangered, with only 10 trees remaining of one species, 193 of another, and 260 of a third.

Recent floods in al-Mahrah have devastated not only frankincense groves but also other rare trees in the Hawf Nature Reserve.

“Excess moisture and strong winds have uprooted many of these ancient trees, which are particularly vulnerable to extreme weather,” Kawsat says.

In addition to natural disasters, overgrazing poses a significant threat to young frankincense trees. In the Hawf Nature Reserve, livestock and stray animals frequently consume small saplings, stunting new growth and further endangering the species. 

“Without government-led conservation plans or proper oversight, the reserve risks losing its ancient trees altogether,” he added.

Kawsat further criticized the complete lack of government intervention to protect these trees. Without urgent conservation efforts, he warned that the risk of extinction is growing, particularly in Yemen’s most vulnerable regions, the island of Socotra and al-Mahrah governorate. 

“These threats highlight the critical need for protection and sustainability efforts to preserve this valuable natural resource for future generations,” he cautioned.