drought

April 25 (UPI) — Two wildfires in Georgia have burned thousands of acres and dozens of homes over a couple of days amid extreme drought in the Southeast.

The fires — the Highway 82 Fire in Brantley County and the Pineland Road Fire in Clinch County — have between them scorched more than 40,000 acres and destroyed at least 120 homes, ActionNewsJax and CBS News reported.

Each of the two fires is roughly 10% contained, and are among a host of blazes being fought in southeast Georgia and northeast Florida, where the weather is not expected to cool off any time soon.

“So we got the two most dangerous, biggest, problematic fires anywhere in the United States in the small area we’re having to fight,” Georgia Gov. Brian Kemp told reporters on Friday.

“We need a change in the weather, but until we get that, we’re just going to stay after these fires and do everything we can to get them contained,” he said.

The Highway 82 fire, which grew overnight by a few thousand acres, has destroyed around 90 homes and businesses, is thought to have been started by a mylar balloon landing on a power line that started to spark, News4Jax reported.

The Highway 82 Fire so far has burned nearly 10,000 acres, prompting mandatory evacuations in some parts of Brantley County and voluntary evacuations across the entire county, according to reports.

Brantley’s county manager, Joey Cason, told reporters that strong winds are expected in the area later today and recommended that people follow mandatory evacuation orders if they are issued.

The Pineland Road Fire, which is burning on what is privately owned forest, was started by sparks from somebody welding a gate, ABC News reported.

That fire has already burned more than 32,000 acres and is experiencing the same weather conditions as neighboring Brantley County.

On the outskirts of Somalia’s southern port city, the land has become an open graveyard for cattle. Some are left where they fell, while others are buried in shallow graves after consecutive failed rainy seasons.

For many families here, pastoralists who rely on livestock for milk, meat, and income, animals were everything, but what was once a lifeline of food and income has now become a stark symbol of loss.

The impact is not just felt in Kismayo, but across the country, with 6.5 million people forced to skip meals and go hungry every day. Drought and rising costs only pushing the country deeper into crisis.

The humanitarian director at Save the Children, Francesca Sangiorgi, says the crisis is being driven by repeated climate shocks that are compounding over time. “We’re seeing multiple rainy seasons that have failed across the country,” she tells Al Jazeera, adding that even when rain arrives, it is often too uneven and too late to restore livelihoods that have already collapsed.

What’s the scale of the crisis?

The scale of Somalia’s hunger crisis is severe and rapidly worsening.

With a third of the population facing severe food insecurity (classified as IPC Phase 3 and above), many households are struggling to get enough food to meet their basic daily requirements (PDF) — and in some cases going without food altogether, leaving them more vulnerable to malnutrition and illnesses such as diarrhoea, measles, and other infections.

Of these, more than 2 million people are in the most critical conditions short of famine (IPC Phase 4 or emergency levels), where families are facing extreme shortages and are increasingly forced into displacement in search of basic needs, moving towards already overcrowded aid camps where resources are rapidly dwindling.

Children are among the most affected. According to the UN, an estimated 1.8 million children under five in Somalia are at risk of acute malnutrition, putting their survival in immediate danger.

Sangiorgi notes that the deterioration has been unfolding rapidly, its effects already evident.

“The situation of children across the country is extremely concerning,” she explains. “We’re seeing the spread of child illnesses across the country. Dropout rates are extremely high right now, and they continue to rise because of the drought. We want to make sure that children have a chance at life—access to the health and nutrition services they need, as well as education.”

According to Doctors Without Borders, known by its French initials MSF, more than 3.3 million people have been displaced, severely straining the already limited resources and basic services in these communities.

What does the crisis look like on the ground?

Near Kismayo, one of Somalia’s largest camps for displaced people has formed, sheltering families who have nothing to eat and have travelled from across Jubbaland.

One woman describes how her herd has fallen from 200 cattle to just four, ending her very livelihood.

Barwaqo Aden, a displaced Jamame resident in Lower Juba, arrived at the camp only recently, but her eight-month-old daughter is already in the local hospital with severe malnutrition due to the lack of resources.

Others arrive after exhausting journeys, fleeing areas controlled by the armed group al-Shabab. A displaced resident, Hodhan Mohamed, walked for days and crossed the River Juba by boat before reaching a crowded settlement, unsure what she would find. Like many new arrivals, she now waits for assistance that is limited and uncertain.

Sangiorgi explains that secondary displacement – when people who have already been forced from their homes are displaced again – is becoming increasingly frequent. “As services and commodities continue to shrink across the country, the prices of essential goods keep rising as well.”

More than 3.8 million Somalis are currently displaced, making up 22 percent of the population. Many have been uprooted multiple times, moving from one settlement to another as aid resources dwindle and access to support becomes more limited.

What’s driving the crisis?

At its core, the crisis is primarily driven by climate shocks.

Somalia has had three consecutive failed rainy seasons in recent years, drying out rivers, wells, and pasturelands.

For livestock-dependent communities, the impact has been immediate: animals are dying, and with them, livelihoods are disappearing.

As local production collapses, families are forced to buy from markets even as food, fuel, and water prices continue to rise. In rural areas, especially, incomes no longer stretch far enough to meet needs.

Insecurity caused by armed conflict adds further strain, displacing communities and limiting access for aid workers in some regions.

Beyond Somalia, the global economic crisis linked to the US–Israeli war on Iran has also played a role in constricting supply chains. A UN aid chief told the Reuters news agency in March that these disruptions are compounding costs and weakening the ability to deliver assistance, as humanitarian systems come under growing strain.

MSF reported last month that transport costs have risen by up to 50 percent in parts of Somalia, making it harder for people to reach health facilities and increasing the cost of delivering care as fuel prices climb.

The organisation also said more than 200 health and nutrition facilities have closed since early 2025 due to sharp funding cuts, leaving critical gaps in already overstretched health services.

What does the aid collapse look like?

As the need for aid rises, humanitarian funding and response capacities are only shrinking.

The UN response plan for Somalia is currently funded at just 20 percent of what is required — with $1.42bn needed but only $288m received. That discrepancy has forced major cuts, reducing the number of people targeted for assistance from 6 million to just 1.3 million.

For Somalia, which relies heavily on imported food and external assistance, the consequences are immediate. Fewer supplies are reaching ports, while the cost of delivering essentials continues to rise, testing an already fragile system.

As UN humanitarian chief Tom Fletcher told Reuters in March, “These [constraints] will damage our humanitarian supply chains, reduce ‌the ⁠humanitarian supplies we can get to people who need them, but they’ll also drive up energy costs and food costs across the region, this really is a perfect storm of factors right now, and I’m seriously worried,” he stated.

The humanitarian response has been cut by 75 percent, meaning millions of Somalis are no longer receiving assistance, even as the crisis deepens on the ground.

Mérida, March 23, 2026 (venezuelanalysis.com) – The Venezuelan government announced a 45-day electricity saving plan as extreme temperatures and regional outages impact Venezuela’s power grid. 

The announcement, made by Acting President Delcy Rodríguez on Saturday, comes on the heels of recurring blackouts, particularly in western states. 

“We are entering a period where solar radiation will impact our territory directly, intensifying heat and drought across the country,” Rodríguez stated during a televised cabinet meeting with officials responsible for the electricity and infrastructure portfolios.

She explained that the “perpendicular passage” of solar rays would significantly increase energy demand for cooling. Alongside drought forecasts, officials expect a greater strain on Venezuela’s electricity generation and transmission infrastructure.

As part of the contingency plan, the Ministry of Electric Energy is set to publish a protocol urging reduced air-conditioning use other rationing measures. In addition, the government has authorized the deployment of thermal drones to monitor high-temperature areas and prevent forest fires from compromising transmission lines.

In March 2025, the Nicolás Maduro administration implemented a similar electricity-savings plan and was compelled to reduce public sector work hours to half a day to ease demand. While the 2025 measures were temporary, the recurrence of shortages underscores the systemic vulnerabilities of the electric grid.

Last Friday, residents in Zulia, Táchira, Mérida, and Trujillo experienced widespread power outages lasting several hours. Local media outlets in the Andean region reported that some sectors are facing daily rationing of up to four hours. Nationwide electricity fluctuations were likewise registered on Monday, with parts of Caracas suffering temporary outages.

The origins of Venezuela’s electrical instability extend over a decade, culminating in the 2019 widespread nationwide blackouts that authorities blamed on “cyber-sabotage.” The alleged attacks compounded infrastructure hard-hit by years of economic sanctions, as well as underinvestment, inadequate maintenance, and the departure of skilled personnel.

Venezuela’s electric grid remains heavily dependent on the Simón Bolívar Hydroelectric Plant, also known as the Guri Dam, in southeastern Bolívar state, which provides approximately 80 percent of the nation’s power. 

However, the transmission lines stretching from the southeast to the western border are often unable to handle the load, with thermoelectric plants in the region unable to cover the additional demand. Current estimates indicate that while Venezuela has an installed generation capacity of approximately 34 gigawatts (GW), only around 12 to 14 GW are currently operational.

Sanctions and push for private investment

In her Saturday address, Rodríguez reiterated the damage caused by US-led unilateral coercive measures and called for their removal. The Venezuelan acting president argued that sanctions hampered the state’s capacity to procure essential technology and components from international suppliers.

“The blockade has impeded the full recovery of this essential service,” Rodríguez said. “Though we have recovered capacity through our own efforts, sanctions limit our response to a demand that grows alongside the economy.”

The Venezuelan government has also announced plans to scale back state control over the electricity sector in order to attract private investment. Earlier this month, authorities unveiled a “pilot plan” to promote foreign investment into the electric grid, following similar blueprints from the oil industry.

Under the proposed framework, the government aims to update the Organic Law of the Electricity System (LOSSE) to allow private companies to assume control of generation and distribution through joint ventures.

According to the Venezuelan Chamber of Construction (CVC), a preliminary investment of US $1.29 billion could lead to the reincorporation of over 6,300 MW to the grid in two phases. The CVC is specifically promoting a project with the Latin America Development Bank to stabilize 2,000 MW in the central industrial region.

The new electricity management model would allow private actors to take control of specific “industrial nodes,” ensuring a reliable supply for manufacturing while retaining a portion of the proceeds to cover maintenance costs.

However, the immediate focus for the Venezuelan executive remains on electricity rationing. Rodríguez concluded her address by calling for “national consciousness,” urging the public to see energy saving not just as a government mandate, but as a collective necessity to navigate the coming weeks of extreme heat and drought.

Edited by Ricardo Vaz in Caracas.

Turkana, Kenya – In the relentless heat of Kainama in Turkana county, Veronica Akalapatan and her neighbours walk several kilometres each day to a half-dried-up well surrounded by the parched earth of northern Kenya.

The dug-out hole in the ground with a wooden ladder is the only source of water in the area. Hundreds of people from several villages – and their livestock – share the well, most waiting hours to fill up small plastic buckets with meagre amounts of unclean water.

“Once we get here, we dig for water in the well and collect fruit. We wait for the water to fill the well,” says Akalapatan. “We take turns to fetch it because there is so little. There are many of us, and sometimes we fight over it.”

In Turkana, the land is rugged, roads disappear into dust, and villages are scattered across vast distances in a county of just more than a million people.

Despite it being the rainy season, weather experts warn that Turkana and other arid regions may receive little relief.

Authorities say drought is once again taking place, with 23 of Kenya’s 47 counties affected. An estimated 3.4 million people do not have enough to eat, at least 800,000 children show signs of malnutrition, and livestock – the backbone of pastoral life – are dying.

In Turkana alone, 350,000 households are on the brink of starvation.

“We are suffering from hunger,” Turkana elder Peter Longiron Aemun tells Al Jazeera.

“We don’t have water. Our livestock have died. We have nothing. We used to burn charcoal, but there are no acacia trees any more.”

Kenya is still recovering from one of its worst droughts in 40 years, which gripped the country between 2020 and 2023. The new weather crisis will likely make things worse.

But at the same time, experts note a stark paradox: Scarcity amid abundance.

Food loss and food waste

While families face acute water shortages and hunger – with boreholes broken down, and wells and streams dried up – Lake Turkana’s water levels have risen in recent years, displacing some shoreline communities.

In other areas, sudden heavy rains trigger flash floods in normally dry riverbeds – known locally as luggas – yet the land remains largely barren. The water comes too fast, runs off too quickly and cannot sustain agriculture.

At the same time, while droughts lessen food supplies and global donor funding cuts have reduced food aid, not too far away, experts say, there is a surplus of food that does not make its way to those who need it.

“In Kenya, a quarter of the population faces severe food insecurity, even as up to 40% of the food produced is lost or wasted each year,” according to a September report by the World Resources Institute (WRI).

Food loss occurs on farms, and during the handling, storage and transportation of supplies, while food waste occurs in households, restaurants and in the retail sphere, WRI researchers noted.

In parts of the North Rift – one of Kenya’s breadbaskets – farmers have recorded good harvests. But high prices and widespread poverty mean pastoralist families in Turkana cannot easily afford food transported from surplus regions.

Security adds another layer of strain. Competition over water and pasture fuels tensions, cattle raids persist, armed bandits operate in remote areas, and security forces struggle to contain violence amid logistical and political challenges.

“The biggest problem in drought areas is security,” says Joseph Kamande, a food trader in Wangige in central Kenya.

Still, he believes the country has the potential to feed itself with better planning.

“The land is vast. Some of it is arable,” he says, adding that “water is the solution.”

Untapped aquifers

In Turkana, though there is severe drought, there are also untapped natural resources.

Hundreds of metres underground are multiple aquifers, layers of rock and soil containing water. The government is hoping to tap into these sources.

In 2013, two major aquifers were discovered, the Napuu aquifer and the Lotikipi aquifer. The largest covers roughly 5,000km (3,100 miles) and holds about 250 trillion litres (66 trillion gallons) of water.

It is said to have the capacity to supply Kenya with water for decades.

However, much of the water is salty and expensive to purify, so the project has stalled.

“The big challenge is salinity,” says Turkana County Water Director Paul Lotum.

“The national government and partners are mapping out pockets where water is safe and reliable. We are working bit by bit to harness it for communities.”

Until then, relief food remains essential for Turkana communities.

The government’s disaster management teams and other agencies are distributing water and food. But supplies are stretched thin. And getting aid to those who need it most is nearly impossible in some areas.

“Most government organisations are either closed or running leaner programmes,” says Jacob Ekaran, Turkana’s coordinator for the National Drought Management Authority.

“The resource basket has shrunk. But the government is trying to do more with what it has.”

‘I can’t find food’

When supplies run low, many people turn to wild berries and fruits.

In Lopur village, resident Akal Loyeit Etangana harvests berries that she then cooks in a small pot over an outdoor fire.

She says she has not had a proper meal in two weeks, so the fruit mixture keeps hunger away. Still, it carries almost no nutritional value.

“If it doesn’t rain, trees and leaves dry up. There is no water,” she laments, adding that clinics are also very far away and people have to walk long distances to get help.

In another village, Napeillim, resident Christine Kiepa worries that there is no food.

“I try to look for food. Sometimes it’s not there,” she says. “If I can’t find food, how do I survive?” she asks.

Villages in the region are slowly emptying. Male herders, who are usually the providers for their families, have moved to neighbouring counties in search of pasture and water for their dying livestock.

Only the elderly, women, young children and the weakest animals remain in the homesteads.

Still, there have been some gains in the region.

Since Kenya adopted a devolved system of government in 2013, Turkana has seen new schools and health centres built, irrigation schemes launched, boreholes drilled, and some roads tarmacked. Officials say investments in drought response have strengthened resilience.

“In the past, drought always degenerated into disaster. You would see reports of deaths,” says Ekaran from the drought management authority. “We are coming from one of the worst droughts in 40 years, but we did not record deaths. That is because of resilience building.”

Painful cycle

For generations, northern Kenya’s nomadic communities have depended on livestock. But climate change is forcing a reckoning. Calls for diversification – irrigation, drought-resistant crops and trees, large dams – have grown louder.

“We can change our community mindset,” says Rukia Abubakar, Turkana coordinator for the Red Cross.

“We can plant drought-resistant trees. We can do irrigation. Our soil is good for crop farming.”

These proposals are not new. They have surfaced after every drought, repeated in policy papers and political speeches.

Yet for many people in Turkana, the cycle feels painfully familiar and daily survival remains precarious.

Back in Kainama, Akalapatan and her neighbours walk back from the water well through the vast, arid landscape, carrying a collection of filled yellow plastic buckets.

They finally return to their small community of thatched huts.

Akalapatan has managed to collect 20 litres (5 gallons) of water for her family for the day.

Her son eagerly fills a cup and gulps it down.

But she knows that what she has is barely enough for everyone, and she will soon have to make the journey to the well again.