Kerala Nurse On Yemen’s Death Row Faces Execution On July 16; Family’s Final Plea As Time Slips Away

Yemeni court found her guilty of murdering her business partner Talal Abdo Mahdi.

Photo: X/@myvakil

New Delhi: A mother sits in Kochi. Wrinkled fingers clutch a photo. Her daughter smiles in it – a nurse in crisp white. The daughter, Nimisha Priya, now waits in a prison cell in Yemen. On July 16, she is scheduled to die by execution.

She moved to Yemen in 2008, carrying a stethoscope and hope. Her parents were aging. She needed to support them. For years, she worked in hospitals. She treated wounds. She took blood pressure. She spoke Arabic with nurses. She earned trust. Then she opened her own clinic.

Yemeni law requires foreign business owners to partner with locals. That is when Talal Abdo Mahdi entered her life. He became her partner. Their partnership turned bitter. Nimisha filed a complaint. The police arrested Mahdi in 2016. Later, he was released. Her family says the threats never stopped.

The threats turned into fear. Fear led to a desperate step. Her family claims she injected Mahdi with sedatives to get back her passport. She wanted to flee. The dosage turned fatal. Mahdi died. She was caught before she could leave Yemen. In 2018, a Yemeni court sentenced her for murder.

The Supreme Judicial Council confirmed the verdict last year. The President of Yemen signed off on her execution. The date was fixed for July 16.

Her mother, who cleans homes in Kerala for a living, sold the house. The walls, the windows and the roof – all gone. Every rupee went into trying to bring her daughter back. Lawyer Subhash Chandran says she was not alone. Businessmen, activists and NRIs – all formed a group. They called it the Save Nimisha Priya International Action Council.

The council tried everything. In Yemen, the legal system allows ‘blood money’ – a compensation paid to the victim’s family. If accepted, it can stop an execution. But there was a catch. The victim’s family would decide the amount. Neither the court nor the government decides it.

Talks began. Then they stopped. In September 2024, the process collapsed. Abdullah Ameer, the lawyer hired by the Indian Embassy, asked for $20,000 before even starting negotiations. The Ministry of External Affairs released $19,871. Still, Ameer said he wanted $40,000. Half before, half later.

The council turned to crowdfunding. People donated. The first installment was raised. But soon, new problems surfaced. Donors demanded transparency. Where was the money going? Who was handling it? Questions grew. Answers did not.

The Indian government said it was pursuing the case. But the clock kept ticking.

Her mother spoke again in January. Her voice trembled. Her eyes did not. She thanked everyone. Then she begged, “This is my last plea. Please help us save her life. Time is running out.”

Yemen’s laws are harsh. The death penalty applies in several cases such as murder, treason, apostasy, homosexuality, drug trafficking and even adultery.

Nimisha's case falls under murder. Its penalty is execution.

For her, there are no more appeals left. No more hearings. Just days. Her story now lies in the hands of diplomats, negotiators and strangers who might still care enough to help.