Poverty and Development

After months of blockade and starvation in Gaza, Israel allowed a new United States venture – the Gaza Humanitarian Foundation (GHF) – to distribute food. Branded as a lifeline, its sites quickly became known by Palestinians and dozens of human rights groups as “death traps”.

Fault Lines investigates how civilians seeking aid were funnelled through militarised zones, where thousands were killed or injured under fire.

Through the testimonies of grieving families, a former contractor, and human rights experts, the film exposes how GHF’s operations replaced UNRWA’s proven aid system with a scheme critics say was designed for displacement, not relief. At the heart of this investigation is a haunting question: was GHF delivering humanitarian aid – or helping turn breadlines into killing fields?

Israeli restrictions on the entry of heavy machinery are crippling Gaza City’s efforts to clear debris and rebuild critical infrastructure, the city’s mayor says, as tens of thousands of tonnes of unexploded Israeli bombs threaten lives across the Gaza Strip.

In a Sunday news conference, Mayor Yahya al-Sarraj said Gaza City requires at least 250 heavy vehicles and 1,000 tonnes of cement to maintain water networks and construct wells.

Al Jazeera’s Hind Khoudary, reporting from az-Zawayda in Gaza, said only six trucks had entered the territory.

At least 9,000 Palestinians remain buried under the rubble. But the new equipment is being prioritised for recovering the remains of Israeli captives, rather than assisting Palestinians in locating their loved ones still trapped beneath rubble.

“Palestinians say they know there won’t be any developments in the ceasefire until the bodies of all the Israeli captives are returned,” Khoudary said.

Footage circulating on social media showed Red Cross vehicles arriving after meetings with Hamas’s armed wing, the Qassam Brigades, to guide them to the location of an Israeli captive in southern Rafah.

An Israeli government spokesperson said that to search for captives’ remains, the Red Cross and Egyptian teams have been permitted beyond the ceasefire’s “yellow line”, which allows Israel to retain control over 58 percent of the besieged enclave.

Al Jazeera’s Nour Odeh, reporting from Amman, said Israel spent two weeks insisting that Hamas knew the locations of all the captives’ bodies.

“Two weeks into that, Israel has now allowed Egyptian teams and heavy machinery to enter the Gaza Strip to assist in the mammoth task of removing debris, of trying to get to the tunnels or underneath the homes or structures that the captives were held in and killed in,” she said.

Odeh added that Hamas had been unable to access a tunnel for two weeks due to the damage caused by Israeli bombing. “That change of policy is coming without explanation from Israel,” she said, noting that the Red Cross and Hamas have also been allowed to help locate potential burial sites under the rubble.

Netanyahu: ‘We control Gaza’

Meanwhile, on Sunday, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu sought to reassert political authority at home, saying that Israel controls which foreign forces may operate in Gaza.

“We control our own security, and we have made clear to international forces that Israel will decide which forces are unacceptable to us – and that is how we act and will continue to act,” he said. “This is, of course, accepted by the United States, as its most senior representatives expressed in recent days.”

Odeh explained that Netanyahu’s statements are intended to reassure the far-right base in Israel, which thinks he’s no longer calling the shots.

Those currently overseeing the ceasefire do not appear to be Israeli soldiers or army leadership, she explained, with Washington “requesting that Israel notify it ahead of time of any attack that Israel might be planning to conduct inside Gaza”.

Odeh noted that Israel’s insistence on controlling which foreign actors operate in Gaza – combined with the limited access for reconstruction – underscores a broader strategy to maintain political support at home.

Unexploded bombs a threat

Reconstruction in Gaza faces further obstacles from unexploded ordnance. Nicholas Torbet, Middle East director at HALO Trust in the United Kingdom, said Gaza is “essentially one giant city” where every part has been struck by explosives.

“Some munitions are designed to linger, but what we’re concerned about in Gaza is ordnance that is expected to explode upon impact but hasn’t,” he told Al Jazeera.

Torbet said clearing explosives is slowing the reconstruction process. His teams plan to work directly within communities to safely remove bombs rather than marking off large areas indefinitely. “The best way to dispose of a bomb is to use a small amount of explosives to blow it up,” he explained.

Torbet added that the necessary equipment is relatively simple and can be transported in small vehicles or by hand, and progress is beginning to take place.

The scale of explosives dropped by Israel has left Gaza littered with deadly remnants.

Mahmoud Basal, a spokesperson for the Palestinian Civil Defence, told Al Jazeera that Israel dropped at least 200,000 tonnes of explosives on the territory, with roughly 70,000 tonnes failing to detonate.

Children have been particularly affected, often mistaking bombs for toys. Al Jazeera’s Ibrahim al-Khalili reported the case of seven-year-old Yahya Shorbasi and his sister Nabila, who were playing outside when they found what appeared to be a toy.

“They found a regular children’s toy – just an ordinary one. The girl was holding it. Then the boy took it and started tapping it with a coin. Suddenly, we heard the sound of an explosion. It went off in their hands,” their mother Latifa Shorbasi told Al Jazeera.

Yahya’s right arm had to be amputated, while Nabila remains in intensive care.

Dr Harriet, an emergency doctor at al-Shifa Hospital in Gaza City, described the situation as “a public health catastrophe waiting to unfold”. She said children are being injured by items that look harmless – toys, cans, or debris – but are actually live explosives.

United Nations Mine Action Service head Luke David Irving said 328 people have already been killed or injured by unexploded ordnance since October 2023.

Tens of thousands of tonnes of bombs, including landmines, mortar rounds, and large bombs capable of flattening concrete buildings, remain buried across Gaza. Basal said clearing the explosives could take years and require millions of dollars.

For Palestinians, the situation is a race against time. Al Jazeera’s Khoudary said civilians are pressing for faster progress: “They want reconstruction, they want freedom of movement, and they want to see and feel that the ceasefire is going to make it.”

South Africa, Nigeria, Mozambique, Burkina Faso removed from Financial Action Task Force’s financial crimes list.

A global money-laundering watchdog has taken South Africa, Nigeria, Mozambique and Burkina Faso off its “grey list” of countries subjected to increased monitoring.

The Financial Action Task Force’s (FATF), a financial crimes watchdog based in France, on Friday said it was removing the four countries after “successful on-site visits” that showed “positive progress” in addressing shortcomings within agreed timeframes.

The FATF maintains “grey” and “black” lists for countries it has identified as not meeting its standards. It considers grey list countries to be those with “strategic deficiencies” in their anti-money laundering regimes, but which are nonetheless working with the organisation to address them.

FATF President Elisa de Anda Madrazo called the removal of the four “a positive story for the continent of Africa”.

South Africa revamped its tools to detect money laundering and terrorist financing, she said, while Nigeria created better coordination between agencies, Mozambique increased its financial intelligence sharing, and Burkina Faso improved its oversight of financial institutions.

Nigeria and South Africa were added to the list in 2023, preceded by Mozambique in 2022 and Burkina Faso in 2021.

Officials from the four countries – which will no longer be subject to increased monitoring by the organisation – welcomed the decision.

Nigerian President Bola Ahmed Tinubu said the delisting marked a “major milestone in Nigeria’s journey towards economic reform, institutional integrity and global credibility”, while the country’s Financial Intelligence Unit separately said it had “worked resolutely through a 19-point action plan” to demonstrate its commitment to improvements.

Edward Kieswetter, commissioner of the South African Revenue Service, also cheered the update but said, “Removing the designation of grey listing is not a finish line but a milestone on a long-term journey toward building a robust and resilient financial ecosystem.”

Leaders in Mozambique and Burkina Faso did not immediately comment, though Mozambican officials had signalled for several months that they were optimistic about being removed.

In July, Finance Minister Carla Louveira said Mozambique was “not simply working to get off the grey list, but working so that in the fight against money laundering and terrorist financing, when the FATF makes its assessment in 2030, it will find a completely different situation from the one detected in 2021,” MZ News reported at the time.

More than 200 countries around the world have pledged to follow the standards of the FATF, which reviews their efforts to combat money laundering, as well as terrorist and weapons financing.

The FATF’s black or “high-risk” list consists of Iran, Myanmar and North Korea.

Study finds that rates soar to 90 percent in some regions as humanitarian crises compound childhood exploitation.

Nearly two-thirds of South Sudanese children are engaged in the worst forms of child labour, with rates reaching as high as 90 percent in the hardest-hit regions, according to a government study released with the charity Save the Children.

The National Child Labour Study, published on Friday, surveyed more than 418 households across seven states and found that 64 percent of children aged between five and 17 are trapped in forced labour, sexual exploitation, theft and conflict.

The findings reveal a crisis far more complex than poverty alone, intensified by relentless flooding, the spread of disease, and conflict that have uprooted families and left millions on the brink of hunger.

In Kapoeta South, near the border with Uganda, nine out of 10 children work in gold mining, pastoralism and farming instead of attending school, the report said.

Yambio region, the country’s southwest, recorded similarly dire rates, with local conflict and child marriage driving children into labour.

Children typically start with simple jobs before being drawn into increasingly dangerous and exploitative work, the report found. About 10 percent of those surveyed reported involvement with armed groups, particularly in Akobo, Bentiu and Kapoeta South counties.

The types of exploitation children face differ by gender. Boys are more likely to work in dangerous industries or join armed groups, while girls disproportionately face forced marriage, household servitude and sexual abuse.

‘A crisis that goes beyond poverty’

Knowing the law does not stop child exploitation, researchers found.

The surveys showed that 70 percent of children stuck in dangerous or illegal work lives came from homes with adults who were familiar with legal protections. Two-thirds of children were unaware that help existed.

“When nearly two-thirds of a country’s children are working – and in some areas, almost every child – it signals a crisis that goes beyond poverty,” said Chris Nyamandi, Save the Children’s South Sudan country director.

South Sudan’s child labour prevalence vastly exceeds regional patterns. While East Africa has the continent’s worst record at 30 percent, according to ILO-UNICEF data, South Sudan’s 64 percent is more than double that figure.

“Education remains the strongest protective factor,” Nyamandi said, noting that children who attend school are far less likely to be exploited.

The government acknowledged the crisis at the report’s launch in Juba. Deng Tong, undersecretary at the Ministry of Labour, said officials would use the evidence as a “critical foundation for action”.

The report comes as nearly one million people have been impacted by severe flooding across South Sudan, with 335,000 displaced and more than 140 health facilities damaged or submerged.

The country faces a related malaria outbreak with more than 104,000 cases reported in the past week, while 7.7 million people confront acute hunger, the United Nations said.

South Sudan has also been gripped by fears of renewed civil war. A fragile 2018 peace deal between President Salva Kiir and First Vice President Riek Machar appears increasingly strained, with armed clashes now occurring on a scale not seen since 2017, according to UN investigators.

Machar was arrested in March and charged in September with treason, murder and crimes against humanity. He has rejected all charges.

About 300,000 people have fled the country this year as violence has escalated.

United Nations demands the release of its employees after Houthi forces raided a facility and detained staff in Sanaa.

Yemen’s Houthi authorities have detained about two dozen United Nations employees after raiding another UN-run facility in the capital Sanaa, the UN has confirmed.

Jean Alam, spokesperson for the UN’s resident coordinator in Yemen, said staff were detained inside the compound in the city’s Hada district on Sunday.

Those held include at least five Yemeni employees and 15 international personnel. A further 11 UN staff were briefly questioned and later released.

Alam said the UN is in direct contact with the Houthis and other relevant actors “to resolve this serious situation as swiftly as possible, end the detention of all personnel, and restore full control over its facilities in Sanaa”.

A separate UN official, who spoke to The Associated Press on condition of anonymity, said Houthi forces confiscated all communication equipment inside the facility, including computers, phones and servers.

The staff reportedly belong to several UN agencies, among them the World Food Programme (WFP), the children’s agency UNICEF and the Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA).

The incident follows a sustained crackdown by the Houthis on the UN and other international aid organisations operating in territory under their control, including Sanaa, the Red Sea port city of Hodeidah, and Saada province in the north.

According to UN figures, more than 50 staff members have now been detained.

Houthis claim UN staff are spying for Israel

The Houthis have repeatedly accused detained UN staff and employees of foreign NGOs and embassies of espionage on behalf of the United States and Israel, allegations that the UN has denied.

In reaction to previous detentions, the UN suspended operations in Saada earlier this year and relocated its top humanitarian coordinator in Yemen from Sanaa to Aden, the seat of the internationally recognised government.

In a statement on Saturday, UN Secretary-General spokesperson Stephane Dujarric warned: “We will continue to call for an end to the arbitrary detention of 53 of our colleagues.”

Dujarric was responding to a televised address by Houthi leader Abdelmalek al-Houthi, who claimed his group had dismantled “one of the most dangerous spy cells”, alleging it was “linked to humanitarian organisations such as the World Food Programme and UNICEF”. Dujarric said the accusations were “dangerous and unacceptable”.

Saturday’s raid comes amid a sharp escalation in detentions. Since August 31, 2025, alone, at least 21 UN personnel have been arrested, alongside 23 current and former employees of international NGOs, the UN said.

Ten years of conflict have left Yemen, already one of the poorest countries in the Arab world, facing what the UN describes as one of the gravest humanitarian crises globally, with millions reliant on aid for survival.

Colonel Randrianirina set to assume presidency in Madagascar after President Andry Rajoelina removed.

Military leader Colonel Michael Randrianirina will be sworn in as Madagascar’s transitional president on Friday, the country’s new leadership has announced, as the African Union (AU) said it would suspend the country after a coup to remove President Andry Rajoelina.

Randrianirina “will be sworn in as President of the Refoundation of the Republic of Madagascar during a solemn hearing of the High Constitutional Court” on October 17, said the statement, published on social media by a state television station on Thursday.

Rajoelina, who was impeached by lawmakers after fleeing abroad during the weekend, has condemned the takeover and refused to step down despite youth-led demonstrations demanding his resignation and widespread defections in the security forces.

Randrianirina led a rebellion that sided with the protesters and ousted Rajoelina on Tuesday in the sprawling country of about 30 million people off of Africa’s east coast. Since gaining independence from France in 1960, the country has had a history of coups and political crises.

The latest military takeover capped weeks of protests against Rajoelina and his government, led by youth groups calling themselves “Gen Z Madagascar”. The protesters, who also included labour unions and civic groups, have demanded better government and job opportunities, echoing youth-led protests elsewhere in the world.

Among other things, the Madagascar protesters have railed against chronic water and electricity outages, limited access to higher education, government corruption and poverty, which affects roughly three out of every four Madagascans, according to the World Bank.

Although some suggest the military seized power on the backs of the civilian protesters, demonstrators cheered Randrianirina and other soldiers from his elite CAPSAT unit as they triumphantly rode through the streets of the capital Antananarivo on Tuesday. The colonel has promised elections in two years.

The takeover was “an awakening of the people. It was launched by the youth. And the military supported us”, said the protest leader, Safika, who only gave one name as has been typical with the demonstrators. “We must always be wary, but the current state of affairs gives us reason to be confident,” Safika told The Associated Press news agency.

The protests reached a turning point Saturday when Randrianirina and soldiers from his unit sided with the demonstrators calling for the president to resign. Rajoelina said he fled to an undisclosed country because he feared for his life.

Randrianirina had long been a vocal critic of Rajoelina’s administration and was reportedly imprisoned for several months in 2023 for plotting a coup.

His swift takeover drew international concern. The African Union condemned the coup and announced the country’s suspension from the bloc. The United Nations said they were “deeply concerned by the unconstitutional change of power”.

Madagascar’s parliament has voted to impeach embattled President Andry Rajoelina just hours after he fled the country in the wake of an elite army unit appearing to turn against him and seize power following weeks of deadly Gen Z protests.

The vote on Tuesday afternoon came as Rajoelina moved to dissolve parliament via a decree posted on social media earlier in the day, but which the opposition rejected.

“I have decided to dissolve the National Assembly, in accordance with the Constitution,” Rajoelina posted on X on Tuesday. “This choice is necessary to restore order within our Nation and strengthen democracy. The People must be heard again. Make way for the youth.”

The protests, which initially erupted over power and water shortages, have evolved into the most serious crisis the country and Rajoelina’s government has faced in years. “I was forced to find a safe place to protect my life,” Rajoleina, who did not disclose his location, said in a 26-minute-long live broadcast on Monday after a top army unit, known widely as CAPSAT, reportedly seized the state broadcaster. The same unit announced on Tuesday afternoon that it was “in charge” as parliament concluded the impeachment proceedings.

Rajoleina has not responded to the impeachment and has not renounced his title as head of state. Opposition parties initiated the impeachment vote on charges that Rajoelina “abandoned” his post.

There’s no clear leader in the country.

Madagascar has a long history of political crises and uprisings. Rajoelina’s own apparent exit from the country appeared to be an eerie replay of protests in 2009 that led to the collapse of a previous government, and his ascent to power. However, his government has been accused of corruption and of managing a stagnant economy.

Here’s what to know about how the protests unfolded and the army unit that has turned against the president:

What led to the protests?

Hundreds of angry protesters, led by a young movement called “Gen Z Madagascar,” began taking to the streets of the capital Antananarivo on September 25, with protests over the weekend recording the largest number of demonstrators in the three weeks of unrest.

What began as anger about persistent water and power cuts that leave businesses and homes without electricity or running water for more than 12 hours quickly escalated into frustrations with general governance.

Protesters decried widespread poverty, high costs of living, and state corruption that they say has seen business elites benefit from close contacts in government. Demonstrators began calling for the end of Rajoelina’s 15-year-old government, and for a “free, egalitarian and united society”.

Although Rajoelina sacked his prime minister and attempted a government reshuffle, protesters were not satisfied, culminating in the CAPSAT backing protesters on Saturday in what the president called an “attempt to seize power”. The unit, in a statement, said it refused “orders to shoot” demonstrators.

Some 80 percent of the country’s 31 million people lived in extreme poverty by 2022, according to the World Bank, largely due to political instability and severe climate disasters affecting food supplies. Only a third of the population has access to electricity, according to the International Monetary Fund, with the state-owned energy company, Jirama, accused of corruption and mismanagement.

Angry demonstrators blocked roads with burning tyres and rocks, and reportedly attacked public buildings, transport infrastructure, and private shops. In response, security officials responded with “violent force” according to the United Nations, with reports noting police fired rubber bullets, stun grenades, and tear gas. At least 22 people have died and dozens of others are injured, the UN said in a statement last week, although the government disputed those figures.

Rajoelina ignored calls for his resignation and accused protesters calling for his exit of wanting to “destroy our country.” His attempts to quell the anger by dissolving the government and appointing army General Ruphin Fortunat Zafisambo as the new prime minister on October 6, as well as inviting protesters for talks, were rejected by the demonstrators, who accused the government of ruling “with weapons”.

Who led the protests?

Young protesters, led by the “Gen Z Madagascar” group, started the demonstrations in late September, following similar youth-led uprisings witnessed in the past year in countries like Nepal, Morocco, Kenya, and Bangladesh.

In Madagascar, protesters say they’re demanding an end to 16 years of “inaction” by Rajoelina’s government, and have promised that they will not be silenced.

“They didn’t want to hear us in the streets,” a statement on the Gen Z Madagascar website reads. “Today, thanks to digital technology and the voice of Generation Z, we will make our voices heard at the table of power on the opposition side. To put an end to 16 years of inaction, let’s demand transparency, accountability, and deep reforms.”

The movement highlighted three demands from the government: the immediate resignation of Rajoelina and his government, the dismantling of the Senate, the electoral commission, and the constitutional court, as well as the prosecution of “the businessman close to the president”, referring to Rajoelina’s adviser and businessman, Maminiaina Ravatomanga.

It warned Rajoelina would be dragged to the International Court of Human Rights on various charges ranging from repression to embezzlement if the demands are not met.

The Gen Z Madagascar’s emblem, a flag featuring a pirate skull and crossbones wearing a distinctive Madagascan hat, is a reference to the Japanese comic series, One Piece, which follows a young pirate banding with others to fight an authoritarian government. The flag has become a hallmark of youth-led protests globally. It was raised by Indonesian protesters to show discontent in the run-up to the nation’s independence day in August, as well as by youth protesters who overthrew the Nepal government in September.

Who is President Rajoelina, and where is he?

President Rajoelina’s location is currently unknown. There is speculation that he was flown out of the country on a French military plane, according to French broadcaster RFI, but France has not commented. Madagascar is a former French colony, and Rojoelina is reported to have French citizenship – an issue which has angered some over the years.

In his Facebook statement on Monday evening, the president called for dialogue “to find a way out of this situation” and urged Madagascans to respect the constitution. He did not reveal his location and did not state his resignation.

The move to dissolve the parliament from exile further escalated the crisis and caused confusion, but opposition groups rejected it and voted for the president’s impeachment.

“The legal basis for this is unclear at the moment,” Kenya-based analyst Rose Mumunya told Al Jazeera. “Is he still the president? Legally, he is, but now that the army has announced they are taking over [security institutions], the legality of his decision to dissolve parliament is not really clear,” she said.

The 51-year-old first came to power in 2009 as the leader of a transitional government following a bloodless coup against the former president, Ravalomanana. As an opposition member and mayor of Antananarivo, Rajoelina led weeks of violent protests starting from January 2009 against Ravalomanana, whom he criticised for “restricting freedom” in the country.

Some 130 people died in the crisis. Rabalomanana fled to South Africa in March 2009 following a military coup. Rajoelina’s announcement as leader was ironically backed by CAPSAT. The international community criticised the military intervention and sanctioned Madagascar for years.

Rajoelina was elected in 2019 and re-elected in disputed 2023 polls that were boycotted by the opposition. His government, while popular at first, faced accusations of corruption, increasing repression and rights violations, analysts say. Fired Prime Minister Christian Ntsay and businessman Maminiaina Ravatomanga, were among prominent figures widely criticised in the country. Both arrived in Mauritius on a private flight on Sunday, authorities there said.

What’s CAPSAT, the army unit accused of a coup?

CAPSAT, or the Corps d’administration des personnels et des services administratifs et techniques, is an elite unit based in Soanierana district on the outskirts of Antananarivo. The group’s leader, Colonel Michael Randrianirina announed on Tuesday the unit was “in charge.”

While Rajoelina had influential backers in other important army units, analyst Mumunya noted he has not able to gain such support with CAPSAT.

The unit first appeared to mutiny after members joined thousands of protesters in Antananarivo on Saturday and called for Rajoelina’s resignation. Demonstrators hailed armed CAPSAT members packed in trucks and waving Madagascan flags. There were reports of CAPSAT teams clashing with pro-Rajoelina security forces.

A representative of the contingent said in a video statement on Saturday that “from now on, all orders of the Malagasy army, whether land, air, or navy, will originate from CAPSAT headquarters.” The unit urged all security forces to refuse “orders to shoot” and to stand with protesters.

On the same day, CAPSAT installed a new chief of defense staff, General Demosthene Pikulas, at a ceremony at the army headquarters. Armed Forces Minister Manantsoa Deramasinjaka Rakotoarivelo endorsed the move at the ceremony, saying, “I give him my blessing.”

On Sunday, CAPSAT Colonel Randrianirina told reporters that his unit’s actions did not amount to a coup. “We answered the people’s calls, but it wasn’t a coup d’etat,” he said, speaking at a gathering on Sunday outside the Antananarivo city hall, where large crowds gathered to pray for victims of the violence. One CAPSAT soldier was reportedly killed in a clash with other security units on Saturday.

Madagascar’s military has intervened in politics in several crises since 1960, when the country gained independence from France. Analyst Mumunya said CAPSAT leaders were carefully avoiding an outright coup declaration to avoid international backlash, as in the 2009 revolt. The move by the opposition to impeachment the president would legalise the takeover while the army holds the fort to ensure there’s no counter coup, she said.

“It’s a bit of push and pull between Rajoelina and the army … but the balance of power is not in Rajoelina’s favour,” Mumunya said. “There are likely ongoing negotiations between the political opposition, business elite and security forces to install a new civilian government that will appeal to the youth,” she added.

“So has his government effectively collapsed? I think we can probably conclude that,” she said.

The High Court, where Rajoelina has supporters, analysts say, will likely scrutinise and confirm whether the president can dissolve the parliament from an unknown location, or whether his impeachment can hold.

The demonstrations, which started over deteriorating living conditions, have left 22 people dead, according to the UN.

Madagascar’s president, Andry Rajoelina, has dissolved his government in response to mass demonstrations over power and water shortages that turned deadly, with the United Nations reporting that at least 22 people have been killed and more than 100 others were injured.

The protests, which began last week and continued into Monday, were led largely by young people, angry over deteriorating living conditions in the capital, Antananarivo.

Experts say they represent the most serious challenge to Rajoelina’s authority since his re-election in 2023, and the largest wave of unrest the island nation has seen in years.

Crowds gathered at Antananarivo’s main university on Monday, carrying placards and singing the national anthem, before attempting to march into the city centre, according to footage broadcast by the local channel 2424.MG.

Police fired tear gas to disperse the demonstrators, as authorities enforced a dusk-to-dawn curfew that has been in place since last week. Security forces have also used rubber bullets to try to quell the unrest.

Looting has been reported at supermarkets, appliance shops and banks across the capital of 1.4 million people. Homes belonging to politicians have also been attacked in recent days.

The president promises dialogue

In a televised address on Monday, Rajoelina acknowledged the public anger and apologised for his government’s failings. “We acknowledge and apologise if members of the government have not carried out the tasks assigned to them,” he said on state broadcaster Televiziona Malagasy (TVM).

The president promised measures to support businesses that suffered losses during the unrest and said he wanted to open a channel of communication with young people. “I understand the anger, the sadness, and the difficulties caused by power cuts and water supply problems. I heard the call, I felt the suffering, I understood the impact on daily life,” he added.

The demonstrations have been driven by frustration at years of economic hardship. Madagascar, an island nation off Africa’s southeast coast, is one of the region’s poorest countries.

About 75 percent of its 30 million people lived below the poverty line in 2022, according to the World Bank.

Many protesters blame Rajoelina’s government for failing to improve conditions, particularly as frequent power outages and water shortages have disrupted daily life.

Casualties and disputes over figures

The UN High Commissioner for Human Rights said that casualties included protesters and bystanders killed by security forces, as well as people who died in looting and violence carried out by gangs unconnected to the demonstrations.

Madagascar’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs rejected those figures, insisting they were not based on official data but on “rumours or misinformation”.

Organisers say they have taken inspiration from youth-led movements in Kenya, Nepal and Morocco. Demonstrators in Antananarivo waved a flag first used in Nepal earlier this month, when protests forced the country’s prime minister to resign.

The movement in Madagascar has been largely coordinated on social media, particularly Facebook, echoing similar online mobilisation seen in Kenya last year, when sustained demonstrations pushed the government to abandon proposed tax legislation.

From ancient cities to beaches, Spain has something for everyone. Millions of tourists flock to its coastal towns and islands every year to enjoy the sand, sea, and culture. But what about the locals?

In the past decade, rents have almost doubled, but wages have stayed the same. Hundreds of thousands of properties have become holiday lets, and developers are snapping up real estate to cash in on the tourism boom. A housing crisis is in full swing, and homelessness is rising fast. Now, residents are fighting back. Armed with water pistols and lawyers, they are calling on governments to protect their interests. But will it be enough?

People & Power meets some of the people suffering the consequences of Spain’s tourism industry, and those fighting to stay in their homes.

According to UNHCR, more than seven million Syrians remain displaced inside the country.

The United Nations has said that one million Syrian refugees have returned to their country since the fall of longtime ruler Bashar al-Assad last December, while warning that funding for humanitarian operations is falling.

“In just nine months, one million Syrians have returned to their country following the fall of the Bashar al-Assad government on 8 December 2024,” the UN refugee agency (UNHCR) said in a statement on Tuesday.

The agency added that 1.8 million people displaced within Syria during its nearly 14 years of civil war had also returned to their areas of origin.

Nearly half of Syria’s pre-war population of 13 million was displaced by the conflict that began after the Assad regime’s crackdown on peaceful antigovernment protests as part of the Arab Spring protests in 2011.

Challenges for returnees

While describing the mass returns as “a sign of the great hope and high expectations Syrians have following the political transition in the country,” UNHCR said many of those heading back are struggling to rebuild their lives.

“Destroyed homes and infrastructure, weak and damaged basic services, a lack of job opportunities, and volatile security are challenging people’s determination to return and recover,” the agency said.

According to UNHCR, more than seven million Syrians remain displaced inside the country and more than 4.5 million are still abroad. It urged greater investment in stabilisation efforts and increased support for vulnerable families.

Call for humanitarian support

“The international community, private sector, and Syrians in the diaspora must come together and intensify their efforts to support recovery and ensure that the voluntary return of those displaced by conflict is sustainable and dignified and they are not forced to flee again,” said Filippo Grandi, the UN High Commissioner for Refugees.

A recent UNHCR survey found that 80 percent of Syrian refugees in Jordan, Lebanon, Egypt and Iraq want to return home one day, with 18 percent saying they hope to do so within the next year.

“They have endured a lot of suffering in the past 14 years and the most vulnerable among them still need protection and assistance,” Grandi said. “Sustained support to hosting countries like Jordan, Lebanon and Türkiye is equally critical to ensure returns are voluntary, safe and dignified.”

UNHCR warned that funds for humanitarian operations are dwindling. Inside Syria, only 24 percent of the required funding is available, while for the wider regional Syria response, just 30 percent of the requested funds have been provided.

“This is not the time to cut back support for the Syrian people and their push for a better Syria for them and the region,” the agency said.

Lilongwe, Malawi – In the rural valleys of Malawi, where homes are built of mud and grass, and electricity is scarce, Tamala Chunda spent his evenings bent over borrowed textbooks, reading by the dim light of a kerosene lamp.

During the day, he helped his parents care for the family’s few goats and tended their half-acre maize field in Emanyaleni village, some 400km (249 miles) from the capital city, Lilongwe. By night, he studied until his eyes stung, convinced that education was the only way to escape the poverty that had trapped his village for generations.

That conviction carried him through his final examinations, where he ranked among the top 10 students in his secondary school.

Then, this May, a letter arrived that seemed to vindicate every late-night hour and every sacrificed childhood game: a full scholarship to the University of Dayton in Ohio, the United States.

“I thought life was about to change for the first time,” Chunda told Al Jazeera. “For my entire family, not just myself.”

News of the award brought celebration to his grass-thatched home, where family and neighbours gathered to mark what felt like a rare triumph. His parents, subsistence farmers battling drought and rising fertiliser costs, marked the occasion by slaughtering their most valuable goat, a rare luxury in a village where many families survive on a single meal a day.

Distant neighbours even walked for miles to offer their congratulations to the boy who had become a beacon of hope for the children around him.

But just months later, that dream unravelled.

The US embassy informed Chunda that before travelling, he would have to post a $15,000 visa bond – more than 20 years of the average income in Malawi, where the gross domestic product (GDP) per person is just $580, and most families live on less than $2 a day, according to the World Bank.

“That scholarship offer was the first time I thought the world outside my village was opening up for me,” he said. “Now it feels as if I’m being informed that no matter how hard I work, doors will remain sealed by money I will never have.”

A sudden barrier

Chunda is one of hundreds of Malawian students and travellers caught in the sweep of a new US visa rule that critics say amounts to a travel ban under another name.

On August 20, 2025, the US State Department introduced a yearlong “pilot programme” requiring many business (B-1) and tourist (B-2) visa applicants from Malawi and neighbouring Zambia to post refundable bonds of $5,000, $10,000 or $15,000 before travelling.

The programme, modelled on a proposal first floated during the Trump administration in 2020, is intended to curb visa overstays. But Homeland Security’s own statistics suggest otherwise.

In 2023, the department reported that Malawian visitors had an overstay rate of approximately 14 percent, which is lower than that of several African nations not subject to the bond requirement, including Angola, Burkina Faso, Cape Verde, Liberia, Mauritania, Nigeria and Sierra Leone.

“It is the equivalent of asking a farmer who earns less than $500 a year to produce 30 years’ worth of income overnight,” said Charles Kajoloweka, executive director of Youth and Society, a Malawian civil society organisation that focuses on education. “For our students, it is less of a bond and more of an exclusion order.”

A US embassy spokesperson in Lilongwe told local media that the bond programme was intended to discourage overstays, and said it did not directly target student visas.

While student visas, known as F-1s, are technically exempt from the bond requirement in the pilot phase of the programme, in practice the situation is more complicated, observers note.

International students on F-1s are allowed to enter the US up to 30 days before their programme start date. However, for those needing to arrive prior to that – for orientation programmes, housing arrangements, or pre-college courses, for instance – they must apply for a separate B-2 tourist visa.

That means that many scholarship recipients need tourist visas to travel ahead of the academic year. But without funds to secure these visas, the scholarships can slip away.

For students entering the US on tourist visas with the intention of changing their status to F-1 once they are there, this is legally permissible, but it must be approved by the US Citizenship and Immigration Services. The visa bond requirements make this pathway much more complicated for Malawian students.

Even for those who manage to raise the funds, there is no guarantee of success. Posting a bond does not ensure approval, and refunds are only granted if travellers depart on time through one of three designated US airports: Logan in Boston, Kennedy in New York, and Dulles outside Washington.

Kajoloweka added that the policy also places extraordinary discretion in the hands of individual consular officers, who decide which applicants must pay bonds and how much.

Students in limbo

For decades, programmes such as the Fulbright scholarships, the Mandela Washington Fellowship, and EducationUSA have created a steady pipeline of Malawian talent to American universities.

“Malawi depends on its brightest young minds acquiring skills abroad, especially in fields where local universities lack capacity,” said Kajoloweka. “By shutting down access to US institutions, we are shrinking the pool of future doctors, engineers, scientists, and leaders … It is basically a brain drain in reverse.”

The visa bond has strained decades of diplomatic and educational ties between the US and Malawi, a relationship built by programmes dating from the 1960s and reinforced by sustained investment in education and development.

Last month, Malawi’s foreign minister, Nancy Tembo, called the policy a “de facto ban” that discriminates against citizens of one of the world’s poorest nations.

“This move has shattered the plans most Malawians had to travel,” said Abraham Samson, a student who had applied for US scholarships before the bond was announced. “With our economy, not everyone can manage this. For those of us chasing further studies, these dreams are now a mirage.”

Samson has stopped monitoring his email for scholarship responses. He feels there is little point, believing that even if an offer were to arrive, the overall costs of studying in the US would remain far beyond his reach.

Section 214(b) of US immigration law already presumes every visa applicant intends to immigrate unless proven otherwise, forcing students to demonstrate strong ties to their home country.

The bond adds another burden, wherein applicants must now prove both their intention to return and that they have access to wealth beyond the means of most.

Hope on hold

The situation is even more difficult for small business owners.

One businessman has spent two decades creating his small electronics import company in Lilongwe, relying on regular trips to the US to identify cost-effective suppliers.

In the aftermath of the mandate, the $15,000 visa bond has disrupted his plans, forcing him to buy from middlemen at outrageous prices.

“Every delay eats away at my margins,” he explained, speaking under the condition of anonymity to protect future visa prospects. “My six employees rely on me. If I can’t travel, I may have to send them home.”

Civil society groups, such as the one Kajoloweka helms, are mobilising against the policy. The group is documenting “real-life stories of affected students,” lobbying both locally and internationally, and “engaging partners in the United States and Europe to raise the alarm”.

“We refuse to let this issue quietly extinguish the hopes of Malawian youth,” he said. “This bond is a barrier, but barriers can be challenged. Your dreams are valid, your aspirations are legitimate, and your voices matter. The world must not shut you out,” he added, speaking generally to Malawian youth.

Meanwhile, back in his village, Chunda contemplates a future far different from the one he had imagined. His scholarship to the University of Dayton sits unused, a reminder of an opportunity denied.

“I thought life was about to change for the first time,” he lamented. “For my entire family, not just myself. I now have to look elsewhere to realise my dream.”

This article is published in collaboration with Egab.

West Sonatala, Bangladesh – An ordinary day for Andharmanik, a small community newspaper, begins in a crowded fish market.

Walking down the steps from the road to the fish landing point in Mohipur, a town in the district of Patuakhali bordering the Bay of Bengal, the smell of salt and fish hangs heavy in the air. Next to the main landing platform, colourful fishing boats, painted in faded reds, blues and greens, are moored.

At this busy market in late July, larger fishing depots and much smaller shanty-style stalls stand side by side. At one of the small, tin-roofed stalls, Hasan Parvez, 44, with black cotton trousers rolled up to his knees, shovels ice into plastic crates piled high with silvery hilsa – Bangladesh’s prized national fish – which is transported each day to cities including the capital Dhaka and Barisal.

Hasan works surrounded by plastic barrels and crates glistening with the fresh catch of the day, and there is a constant background thrum of diesel-powered trawlers humming as boats pull in and out of the dock.

“It’s a busy morning, and it is a fish market with all the chaos,” Hasan says with a smile.

He works there as a daily wage labourer sorting, weighing and packing fish into white thermocol boxes during the monsoon season. In the dry season, he works at a nearby brick kiln, and over the winter months, around December and January, he works at a market selling sun-dried fish known as “shutki”.

Hasan’s day at Mohipur market starts early – around 4am – with the fajr prayer and a cup of tea without milk, and earns him about 600 taka ($5) per day.

Today, as usual, he is impatient to finish because, besides this job, which he needs to provide for his family, Hasan has another occupation to get back to. He is the editor-in-chief of a handwritten community newspaper called Andharmanik (“jewel from the darkness” in Bengali, and also the name of the nearby river), which features stories from his village of West Sonatala. He publishes it every two months from his home in the coastal village about an hour by road from the fish market and more than eight hours from Dhaka.

Since Hasan and his team of reporters don’t own or use computers, the newspaper is handwritten and then photocopied. But they also believe writing stories by hand, in a place where newspapers weren’t available before Andharmanik began, makes the paper feel more intimate and brings their community closer together.

Finally, at around 11am, when the last boxes of fish have been loaded onto carts and the shop floor has been cleaned, Hasan prepares to head home.

He hops onto a van-gari – a battery-driven, three-wheeled bicycle with a large wooden platform at the rear of the vehicle where passengers sit – to get home.

As Hasan climbs into the vehicle, he explains that the three-room home he shares with his wife, Salma Begum, whom he married in 2013, and three daughters, is also the editorial headquarters for Andharmanik. It is where he meets with the team once or twice in each publication cycle.

‘My village’

On the bumpy, broken road to his home, past paddy fields and scattered houses, a few two-wheelers and electric rickshaws passing by in the opposite direction, Hasan explains what drove him to start a newspaper.

“I used to write a lot of poems in my childhood,” he says, speaking loudly over the noisy van-gari engine. “Reading and writing always attracted me.”

He would read works by the Indian Nobel prize-winning poet, Rabindranath Tagore, and self-help books. But despite his love of reading and learning, he wasn’t able to finish school. When he was 14, Hasan, the eldest of two brothers and two sisters, had to drop out to work as a day labourer to support his family. “I was supposed to pass my secondary school certification (SSC) exam back in 1996, but I couldn’t do it because of money problems,” he explains.

He didn’t complete his SSC examination (10th grade) until the age of 35 in 2015. Two years later, he finished high school. In 2021, he enrolled in a Bachelor of Arts degree at a college in Kalapara, about 10km (6.2 miles) away. Having to juggle supporting his family with the newspaper and his studies, he is just now in his second semester. This has been an important journey because the future of the newspaper hinges on it, he says.

Hasan wants to register the newspaper in the district as an official media organisation, as he believes this would help protect it from political volatility. “For that, the rules are that the publisher has to be a graduate,” he says.

The idea for the paper arose in June 2016 when Hasan met Rafiqul Montu, a Dhaka-based environmental journalist who was visiting the area. Montu covers the impact of the climate crisis in Bangladesh’s coastal areas and travels the region throughout the year for his work. One day, Hasan saw him taking pictures of the Andharmanik River. Curious, he went to talk to him.

As they spoke, Hasan shared some of his poems and other writings. In those, he talked about his village’s problems – like the cyclones that afflict them or worsening climate conditions for farmers. No newspaper covered these stories, and with the local government often slow to help, people felt neglected.

Montu, impressed by what he heard, encouraged him to turn these stories into a newspaper.

“He wanted to do something for his community,” Montu explains. “I told him he could publish a newspaper and cover local news. I said he should focus on spreading good faith and hope in his community.”

He suggested naming the paper after the river where they spoke and taught Hasan how to write a story, craft headlines and take photos with his mobile phone.

“Montu bhai (brother) is my ustaad (mentor),” Hasan says. “He inspired me to write stories about my village and people’s lives – both problems and solutions. I had never thought of becoming a newspaper publisher since I can’t afford to be one. But it’s been six years that Andharmanik has been coming out.”

As a tribute to the working-class community of West Sonatala, the paper’s first issue was published in 2019 on May 1, Labour Day.

Forgotten by the world

Around noon, and under a light drizzle, Hasan nears his village in the quiet countryside. Green rice fields spread out from both sides of the road, and the trees lining it are wet from the rain.

Ducks swim in a few ponds along the roadside. The van-gari bounces over the last stretch of broken road until it finally runs out altogether. This is as far as the driver can go.

From there, it is a 10-minute walk along muddy paths to reach Hasan’s house.

“Officially, the road comes up to my house,” he says, “but this is what it looks like.”

A narrow strip of slushy mud is all there is to walk on, and the monsoon has made conditions worse. Villagers have no choice but to walk barefoot, holding their shoes or sandals.

“Wearing shoes isn’t practical as they can get stuck in the mud and cause someone to slip and fall,” Hasan says as he hurries to meet his team, who will arrive for a 1pm meeting to discuss ideas for the August edition. The newspaper started with 10 contributors and has grown to a team of 17 reporters who contribute stories and photos voluntarily.

“In our meetings, we share story ideas, but also talk about our own lives and families. Most times my wife gives us tea and muri (puffed rice),” he adds.

West Sonatala is home to 618 families – mostly farmers, fishermen and daily wage labourers. Electricity only arrived a few years ago.

“There’s one community clinic in the village with no doctors. People who fall sick in the village are taken to hospitals in Kalapara, a small sub-district town which is an hour-long drive,” Hasan says.

“No national or regional newspapers come to the village, and most homes don’t have a TV. Those with smartphones watch the news there, but the internet is so patchy, even that’s difficult,” he adds, gesturing at his mobile phone, which shows no network connection.

“Our area is so remote and cut off from basic information that we feel forgotten by the mainstream world,” he says. “This feeling of being left behind was what drove me to start Andharmanik. It’s our community newspaper to tell our own stories.”

‘A collective’

In Hasan’s living room is a wall covered with framed newspaper clippings and a few bookshelves packed with Bengali books. A long, wooden table sits in the centre where Hasan’s reporters gather, arriving one by one along the muddy paths. Three have braved the heavy rain to make it there today. Abdul Latif is the first to arrive, followed by Russiah Begum, then Nazrul Islam Bilal. They enter the room with smiles on their faces, asking about each other’s wellbeing by saying, “Kemon asen?” (“How are you?” in Bengali).

The group is small, but diverse, and they all live near each other within a cluster of villages. Abdul, 42, dressed in a crisp, white checkered shirt, is an English teacher in high school. Nazrul, 31, is an electrician. Russiah, 43, is one of three women on the team, and runs a tailoring business from her home in West Sonatala.

The two other members of the core team who have been prevented by the rain from attending the meeting are Sahana Begum, 55, who walks with a limp in her right leg due to polio. Sahana, who is also a seamstress, lives in West Sonatala and writes about women’s issues. There is also 29-year-old Ashish Garami, the only Hindu member of the team. He belongs to a minority group in Bangladesh, which in recent years has reportedly faced discrimination.

Other contributors work as e-rickshaw drivers and farmers, while some are unemployed.

“We work as a collective. Our newspaper focuses on local news, community events, and what happens in West Sonatala and sometimes nearby villages,” says Abdul, who joined Andharmanik in 2021. “In this edition, I am going to write about the bad road conditions,” he adds. “I’ll show how people are suffering because of it during the monsoon.”

The school where he teaches is three kilometres (1.9 miles) from his home, and he has to cross the Andharmanik River by boat each day to reach it.

“Crisis is the reason Andharmanik is published. The way Hasan pointed out the problems of our village through his writings inspired me to join the team,” he says.

‘Something beautiful happened’

Russiah has been with Hasan’s team since the beginning. She explains that she finished 10th grade before marrying a farmer from the village. To help support her family, she started a tailoring business, which became a window into the village’s hidden struggles. “When women come to me to stitch their clothes, they open their hearts,” she says. “I hear about problems that never make it to the outside world – especially the pain that women and children carry in silence.”

One of her stories was about a woman named Abejaan Begum from Rehmatpur village, a few kilometres from West Sonatala. Abejaan had lost her house to devastating floods in 2023 and had been forced to decamp to a makeshift hut made of plastic sheets.

“My story was shared by Hasan on his Facebook page,” Begum says. “Then something beautiful happened – help started pouring in from Bangladeshis living abroad. In total, she received 60,000 taka ($420) to build a new house and buy a few goats.” Today, Abejaan is living with dignity again in a three-room house, Russiah says.

Their stories have helped others. For one edition, Hasan wrote a poem about a child in his village named Rubina who lived in a broken mud hut with her grandmother and mother, who had mental health problems and was kept in chains. Because they were so poor, Rubina was forced to beg for food. After Hasan published the poem, it was widely read and caught the attention of local government officials, who decided to give Rubina and her family some land and a house.

Hasan and his team often focus on stories about how people are affected by the climate crisis. The coastal areas of Bangladesh are particularly vulnerable to flooding, heatwaves, rising sea levels and saltwater intrusion. Bilal owns a small rice field, and he feels connected to other farmers in the area, particularly as he sees his harvest get smaller every year due to the erratic rainfall.

“In the next issue, I’ll write about the struggles of local day labourers during the monsoon,” he says.

Hasan’s reporters submit their stories on sheets from notebooks. “Our contributors send me their stories in handwritten notes. I make the final decision on what goes in the paper and edit the language,” he says. He then writes out the stories with a fountain pen on A3-size paper and has these photocopied at a copy shop in Kalapara.

Each newspaper is four pages long and bound together using colourful plastic tape. Hasan makes 300 copies – each of which costs him approximately 10 taka ($0.08) to publish. The process is labour-intensive and the final handwriting, printing and binding takes about a week.

Once published, Hasan and his team distribute the paper in West Sonatala and the nearby villages of Tungibari, Chandpara, Rehmatpur and Fatehpur. They have no newspaper stall or subscription system, relying solely on local demand. They give it away for free or, where they can, sell it at cost. “People are poor in our village, so it’s mostly given free. Honestly, I don’t make any money out of it. This is not my goal,” Hasan says.

A loyal reader

Azizur Rehman Khan, 84, a resident of West Sonatala, is one of the newspaper’s most loyal readers and Hasan’s neighbour. He has read every issue for the past two years and happily pays for each issue, which is delivered to him personally by Hasan.

“I have seen Parvez since his childhood days,” Azizur says. “I love his passion and motivation to tell stories of happiness and sadness of our villagers. When the rest of the world forgot us, it is Andharmanik that shares our story to the world.”

The former tax officer says he understands the financial insecurity that Hasan shoulders in order to publish the newspaper. However, he adds, “I pray to Allah that there will be a day when everything will fall into place and this paper will be published fortnightly.”

Khan lives a couple of kilometres from the Andharmanik River. He explains the meaning behind the name, which comes from two Bengali words – “andhar” meaning dark and “manik” meaning jewel.

Looking out at the dark, rain-heavy sky beyond the doorway of his house, he quietly adds, “Hasan is our ‘Andharmanik’ – the shining jewel in our darkness.”

India’s Supreme Court in early August issued a dramatic order calling for the removal of all stray dogs from the streets of the national capital, prompting outrage from animal rights activists.

Days later, the country’s top court amended that order after a larger bench of judges looked at the case, effectively allowing municipal authorities to return most strays to the neighbourhoods they were picked up from after being sterilised and vaccinated.

But while the revised order has calmed some of the passions that erupted over the initial verdict, the court’s interventions have also set off a broader debate in India over dogs on the country’s streets, the menace they pose and how best to deal with them.

So what were the court orders all about, what was the trigger, how big of a problem are India’s stray dogs – and how many such dogs does the country have in the first place?

What did the Supreme Court order?

On August 11, a Supreme Court bench of Justices JB Pardiwala and R Mahadevan directed the Delhi government and local bodies to immediately commence the removal of stray dogs from all localities in the National Capital Region – including the city of New Delhi and its suburban cities of Noida, Ghaziabad, Gurugram and Faridabad.

The court’s orders required authorities to “start picking up stray dogs from all localities” and “relocate these dogs into designated shelters/pounds”, with the stipulation that they would not be released back into public spaces again.

The ruling drew criticism from animal rights activists who questioned whether local governments had the infrastructure and resources needed to execute the order, amid worries that it could lead to acts of cruelty towards the dogs.

Some experts also pointed out that the Supreme Court order might stand in violation of India’s Animal Birth Control Rules, introduced in 2023. Those rules were framed to control stray dog populations humanely, through a policy of capturing, sterilising, vaccinating and then releasing them. But the August 11 order barred their release onto the streets of Delhi.

Eventually, amid protests, a new three-judge bench heard the case again, on August 22 and modified the earlier order. “The dogs that are picked up shall be sterilised, dewormed, vaccinated, and released back to the same area from which they were picked up,” the court said, staying in line with the birth control rules.

However, the court clarified that the release after capture would not “apply to the dogs infected with rabies or suspected to be infected with rabies, and those that display aggressive behaviour”.

Further, the court ordered the creation of dedicated feeding spaces for stray dogs in each municipal ward, making it clear that feeding dogs on the streets would now be prohibited.

And the court asked other states and federally governed territories to also join the case as parties – in effect, setting the stage for the order, currently restricted to the capital and its surrounding areas, to become a nationwide law.

Does India have a dog bite crisis?

The Supreme Court took on the case because of concerns over an increasing number of dog bite cases in the country.

According to the federal Ministry of Health data, the country recorded 2,189,909 dog bite cases in 2022, a number that rose to 3,052,521 cases in 2023, and to 3,715,713 cases in 2024.

Dog bites, similar to bites from other animals, can transmit the rabies virus to humans. When left untreated, it manifests as either furious or paralytic rabies, both of which are almost always fatal once symptoms develop. In India, dog bites account for 99 percent of rabies fatalities.

Federal Health Ministry data shows that India recorded 21, 50, and 54 rabies-induced human deaths, respectively, in the last three years. But experts question those numbers.

While federal data shows that the southern state of Kerala recorded 0,1, and 3 rabies-induced deaths in 2022, 2023 and 2024, the state’s health authorities themselves say that Kerala had 15, 17 and 22 deaths respectively, in those years. And a recent Lancet study estimated 5,726 human rabies deaths occurring annually in India.

That too is a conservative estimate, according to Omesh Bharti, deputy director and epidemiologist at the northern Himachal Pradesh state’s health department. “I think it is closer to the 10,000 mark,” Bharti said. “In the last 10 years, dog bite cases have increased 10 times. At the same time, deaths have reduced as well,” he added, because of the increased prevalence of the rabies vaccine and immunoglobulin, which provides immediate short-term protection from rabies after potential exposure.

India contributes 36 percent of global rabies deaths, according to the World Health Organization (WHO).

Does India have a dog-counting problem?

Nishant Kumar, head of Thinkpaws, a New Delhi-based think tank whose research focuses on the interaction between people, animals and waste systems, said that stray dogs form territorial packs.

“Bonded dogs learn to discriminate between familiar feeders and unfamiliar strangers, resulting in strategic aggression like barking or chasing to guard their streets,” he said.

“The issue arises when humans adjusted to dogs from one part of the city meet dogs in new locations, such as rickshaw pullers and delivery boys,” he added.

But questions linger over whether Delhi and India even have an accurate count of their stray dog populations.

The 2019 Livestock Census conducted by the Indian government’s Department of Animal Husbandry and Dairying – the most recent nationwide stray dog count – found that India housed 15 million stray dogs, with Delhi accounting for 55,462 of them.

But the government’s own data also showed that Delhi recorded 45,052 bite cases in 2019 – a very high number of bite cases when compared with the estimated population, raising doubts about the quality of the data in question.

An unpublished study by Thinkpaws, meanwhile, assessed the dog density of the national capital region at roughly 550 dogs per square kilometre. When extrapolated across Delhi, that suggests an estimated population of 825,313 stray dogs – nearly 15 times the 2019 census data.

The 2024 Livestock Census was expected to be completed on March 31, but has been delayed.

How did Bhutan achieve 100 percent sterilisation?

The ruling by India’s top court has also prompted questions over whether all stray dogs can realistically be sterilised. While it is a tiny country by comparison, Bhutan has shown that it can be done.

In 2023, the Himalayan nation, sandwiched between India and China, became the first country in the world to achieve 100 percent sterilisation of its stray dog population. The country also vaccinated 90 percent of its 1,10,000-strong stray dog population in just two years – that’s more than the 70 percent vaccination levels needed to maintain herd immunity in the case of diseases like rabies.

Kinley Dorji, veterinary superintendent at the National Veterinary Hospital, Bhutan, who also led these efforts, said what worked was a “whole of nation” approach and the time-bound nature of the programme, which was pushed by the country’s king.

“Because the command came from our king, everybody cooperated. It was not just left to the livestock department or the municipality. Everybody from the armed forces and volunteers from De-suung [Bhutan’s national service programme] to the farmers participated,” Dorji said.

The programme was executed in three phases. “Nationwide sterilisation took just two weeks. Subsequently, the mopping phase began, targeting the dogs that had been missed during the nationwide phase. The final combing phase took us a few months, as we spent a lot of time capturing the remaining elusive dogs,” Dorji said.

The team used oral sedation, trapping and darts. Only in the heavily populated Thimphu did they have to set up separate shelters for problematic dogs that were biting people. All the other dogs were released back to the same area from which they were picked up.

The programme, which began in August 2021, was shut in October 2023, once the country achieved 100 percent stray dog sterilisation. Bhutan spent 305 million ngultrum ($3.5m) and employed 13,000 people during the programme.

What does the future look like for stray dog management in India?

India, by comparison, has a long way to go, say experts.

Bharti, the Himachal Pradesh epidemiologist, who deals with dog bite victims regularly, says the Supreme Court ruling highlights the failure of local governments and nonprofits across the country.

“They have failed to protect the citizens, and they have failed to sterilise and immunise these dogs,” he said.

Meghna Uniyal, director at the Humane Foundation for People and Animals, a nonprofit, welcomed the latest directives from the country’s top court. “We have waited two years for this,” Uniyal said. “Public feeding is now banned, and biting dogs are to be taken off the streets.”

But concerns around human-dog conflict won’t vanish in India anytime soon, said Kumar of Thinkpaws.

What’s needed, he said, is a long-term plan, including shelter-based quarantine for dogs that are known to be carrying diseases or that bite, vaccination of dogs, adoption of strays and mechanisms to reduce the practice of dogs eating from open rubbish dumps.

Anything less, he said, “is misguided compassion”.

Sri Lanka is undergoing one of the most complex economic recoveries in its history. The country’s financial collapse in 2022 was precipitated by a toxic mix of unsustainable borrowing, poor fiscal management, and external shocks.

Mass protests erupted under the banner of Aragalaya, a broad-based citizens’ movement demanding accountability, economic justice, and an end to political corruption.

The uprising ultimately forced the resignation of the sitting president, Gotabaya Rajapaksa. However, following his resignation, the administration of Ranil Wickremesinghe recaptured power.

Delaying calls for new elections, in 2023 the Wickremesinghe administration negotiated $3bn of support from the International Monetary Fund (IMF) under its New Extended Fund Facility (EFF) arrangement. Later that year, to unlock a second instalment of this bailout package, Sri Lanka also reached a debt restructuring agreement with a group of creditors including China, India, and Japan.

Even though, by September 2024, the Sri Lankan people elected a progressive government led by President Anura Kumara Dissanayake, with a historic mandate, the new administration has since been trapped within the constraints imposed by the IMF and the previous political establishment.

The mainstream neoliberal narrative has been quick to highlight the arrangement with the IMF, known as the 17th IMF program, as a sign of stabilisation, praising the debt restructuring agreement and compliance with IMF conditions.

But what of the human cost of this “recovery”?

The punitive structural adjustment process includes privatising state-owned enterprises, disconnecting the Central Bank from state control, curtailing the state’s capacity to borrow, and subordinating national development aspirations to the interests of creditors. It has placed the burden of its Domestic Debt Optimisation on working people’s retirement savings, specifically the Employees Provident Fund (EPF), raising concerns among salaried workers whose current real incomes have already been cut by high inflation and higher taxes.

Public sector hiring has been frozen, major rural infrastructure projects in transport and irrigation have been delayed or cancelled, and funding for health and education has stagnated even as costs rise. The reforms undertaken to achieve macroeconomic stability, including interest rate hikes, tax adjustments, the removal of subsidies, increased energy pricing, and the erosion of workers’ pensions, have demanded a great deal from citizens.

The IMF program has also ushered in neoliberal legal reforms that erode the public accountability of the Central Bank, limit the government’s fiscal capabilities, and encourage the privatisation of land, water, and seeds through agribusiness.

To meet IMF targets – most notably, the goal of achieving a 2.3 percent primary budget surplus by 2025 – the Sri Lankan government has introduced sweeping austerity measures. Where else will that surplus come from if not from the money pots of the poor? Bankers may welcome this austerity, but for those living and working in rural areas and coastal villages, it spells hardship and fear. The imbalances within the debt restructuring program prioritise investor profit over the public interest, shrinking the fiscal space needed to rebuild essential services.

Civil society groups estimate that 6.3 million people are now skipping meals, and at least 65,600 are experiencing severe food shortages.

In a noteworthy move, newly elected President Anura Dissanayake has instructed the treasury to reinstate subsidies for the agricultural and fishing sectors. While welcome, this may not be enough. Fishermen report that fuel costs remain steep, eating into their incomes.

Farmers, many locked into chemical input-intensive production, are struggling with rising costs, climate catastrophes, and reduced state support.

Sri Lanka’s 2025 public health allocation accounts for just 1.5 percent of its gross domestic product – five times smaller than the amount allocated to service the interest on public debt. This stark disparity highlights the fiscal constraints placed on basic social spending.

But this is not just a Sri Lankan story.

It is part of a broader global debt emergency draining public finances across the Global South. A vast number of countries in Africa, Asia, Latin America, the Caribbean, the Pacific, and Central Europe have been forced to cede national policymaking autonomy to international financial institutions like the IMF, World Bank, and Asian Development Bank (ADB).

A recent United Nations Conference on Trade and Development (UNCTAD) report reveals that half of the world’s population – approximately 3.3 billion people – now live in countries that spend more on interest payments than on health or education. In 2024 alone, developing countries paid a staggering $921bn in interest, with African nations among the hardest hit.

UNCTAD warns that rising global interest rates and a fundamentally unjust financial architecture are entrenching a cycle of dependency and underdevelopment.

Developing countries routinely pay interest rates several times higher than those charged to wealthy nations, yet existing debt relief mechanisms remain inadequate – ad hoc, fragmented, and overwhelmingly tilted in favour of creditors. The demand for a permanent, transparent debt resolution mechanism – centred on justice, development, and national sovereignty – is gaining momentum among Global South governments.

This issue is also drawing serious attention from global grassroots movements.

In September this year, more than 500 delegates from around the world will convene in Kandy, Sri Lanka, for the 3rd Nyeleni Global Forum for food sovereignty. The gathering will bring together small-scale food producers, Indigenous peoples, trade unions, researchers, and progressive policy think tanks. One of the key themes will be the global debt crisis and how it undermines basic rights to food, education, health, and land.

The forum is expected to serve as a space to chart alternatives. Rather than relying solely on state-led negotiations or technocratic financial institutions, movements will strategise to build grassroots power.

They aim to link local struggles – such as farmers resisting land grabs or workers organising for living wages – with global campaigns demanding debt cancellation, climate reparations, and a transformation of the international financial system.

It is clear to those of us in the Global South that a just recovery cannot be built on fiscal targets and compliance checklists alone. We demand the reclaiming of public space for investment in social goods, the democratisation of debt governance, and the prioritisation of people’s dignity above creditors’ profit margins.

For Sri Lanka – and for countless other countries across Africa, Asia, and Latin America – this may be the most urgent and necessary restructuring of all.

The views expressed in this article are the authors’ own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial stance.

PM’s office says the weapons transfer to the Lebanese army marks the start of a wider disarmament campaign.

Lebanon has launched a plan to disarm Palestinian groups in its refugee camps, beginning with the handover of weapons from Burj al-Barajneh camp in Beirut.

The prime minister’s office announced on Thursday that the weapons transfer to the Lebanese army marks the start of a wider disarmament campaign. More handovers are expected in the coming weeks across Burj al-Barajneh and other camps nationwide.

A Fatah official told the Reuters news agency the arms handed over so far were only illegal weapons that had entered the camp within the previous day. Television footage showed military vehicles inside the camp, though Reuters could not verify what type of weapons were being surrendered.

The initiative follows Lebanon’s commitment under a US-backed truce between Israel and Hezbollah in November, which restricted weapons to six state security forces. Since the November 27, 2024, ceasefire agreement, Israel has continued attacking Lebanon, often on a weekly basis.

The government has tasked the army with producing a strategy by the end of the year to consolidate all arms under state authority.

According to the prime minister’s office, the decision to disarm Palestinian factions was reached in a May meeting between Lebanese President Joseph Aoun and Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas.

Both leaders affirmed Lebanon’s sovereignty and insisted that only the state should hold arms. Lebanese and Palestinian officials later agreed on a timeline and mechanism for the handovers.

For decades, Palestinian groups have maintained control inside Lebanon’s 12 refugee camps, which largely operate outside state jurisdiction. The latest initiative is seen as the most serious effort in years to curb the presence of weapons inside the camps.

Palestinian resistance movements grew out of displacement and political exclusion after the creation of Israel in 1948, when some 750,000 Palestinians were forced from their homes.

Over the years, groups including Fatah, Hamas, and the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP) established a presence in Lebanon’s camps to continue armed struggle against Israel.

Palestinian refugees in Lebanon remain without key civil rights, such as access to certain jobs and property ownership. With limited opportunities, many have turned to armed factions for protection or representation.

The disarmament push also comes as Hezbollah faces what analysts describe as its greatest military challenge in decades, following Israeli strikes in 2024 that decimated much of its leadership.

Maiduguri, Nigeria – Sometimes, it feels to Zara Ali as though her daughter was born already sick in the womb.

On a recent weekday, the 30-year-old mother clutched the ill toddler in her lap as she sat outside a government hospital in Maiduguri, the capital of northeast Nigeria’s Borno State. The two had just finished yet another doctor’s appointment in hopes of curing the child.

Although cranky as any other sick two-year-old, it is Amina’s hair – brownish and seemingly bald in several spots – that’s a visible sign of the malnourishment doctors had previously diagnosed. Yet, despite months of treatment with a protein-heavy, ready-to-eat paste, Ali says progress has been slow, and her daughter might require more hospital visits.

“She gets sick, gets a little better, and then falls ill again,” she said, frustrated. Already, Ali and her family have had to move homes several times because of the Boko Haram conflict. They were displaced from Damboa town, about 89km (55 miles) away, and now live in Maiduguri as displaced persons.

Adding to her woes is the reduced access to care in recent months as several aid clinics she visits for free treatment have begun to scale back operations, or in some cases, completely shut their services. “Honestly, their interventions were really helpful, and we need them to come back and help our children,” Ali said.

Amina is only one of some five million children across northeast and northwest Nigeria suffering from malnourishment in what experts have called the region’s most severe food crisis in years. The troubled northeast region has, for a decade and a half, been in the throes of a conflict waged by the armed group Boko Haram, and prolonged insecurity has disrupted food supplies. In the northwest, bandit groups are causing similar upheavals, resulting in a hunger crisis that state governments are struggling to contain.

Compounding the problem this year are the massive, brutal funding cuts roiling aid organisations, which have often stepped in to help by providing food assistance to the 2.3 million displaced northeast Nigerians. Many of those organisations were dependent on funds from the United States, which, since February, has reduced contributions to aid programmes globally by about 75 percent.

The World Food Programme (WFP), the United Nations food aid agency and the world’s largest provider of food assistance, was forced to shut down more than half of all its nutrition clinics across the northeast in August, Emmanuel Bigenimana, who leads northeast Nigeria operations, told Al Jazeera from the agency’s site in Maiduguri. Some 300,000 children are cut off from needed nutrition supplements, he said.

Already, in July, WFP doled out its last reserves of grains for displaced adults and families, Bigenimana added, standing by a row of half-empty tent warehouses. A few men removed grain sacks from the tents and loaded them onto trucks bound for neighbouring Chad, a country also caught in complex crises. For Nigeria, he said, which is in the lean season before harvest, there was no more food.

Insecurity fuels food crisis

Northeast Nigeria should be a food basket for the country, due to its fertile, savannah vegetation suitable for cultivating nuts and grains. However, since the Boko Haram conflict broke out, the food supply has dwindled. Climate shocks in the increasingly arid region have added to the problems.

Boko Haram aims to control the territory and has been active since 2011. The group’s operations are mainly in Borno, neighbouring states in the northeast, and across the border in Niger, Chad, and Cameroon. It gained global notoriety in 2014 for the kidnapping of female students in Chibok. Internal fractures and Nigeria’s military response have reduced the group’s capacity in recent years, but it still controls some territory, and a breakaway faction is affiliated with ISIL (ISIS). More than 35,000 people have been killed in attacks by the group, and more than 2 million are displaced.

Before the insecurity, families in the region, particularly outside the urban metropolis of Maiduguri, survived on subsistence farming, tilling plots of land, and selling surplus harvest. These days, that is hardly an option. The military has hunkered down in garrisoned towns since 2019 to avoid troop losses. It is hard to find cultivating space amid the trenches and security barriers constructed in such places, security analyst Kabir Adamu of intelligence firm Beacon Consulting, told Al Jazeera. Those who venture outside the towns risk being targeted by armed fighters.

In rural areas not under army control, Boko Haram operates as a sort of government, exploiting villagers to generate money.

“The armed actors collect taxes from them to use land for farming,” Adamu said, adding that for rural farmers, those taxes often prove heavy on the pockets. In more unlucky scenarios, farmers have been killed if they were believed to be military informants. In January, 40 farmers were executed in the town of Baga. Fishermen have similarly been targeted.

The vicious cycle has repeated itself for years, and the compounding effect is the current food crisis, experts say.

Just 45 minutes from Maiduguri, in Konduga town, farmer Mustapha Modu, 55, tilled the earth in anticipation of rainfall on a cool weekday. He had just returned from a short journey to Maiduguri, braving the risky highways to buy seedlings in hopes of a good season.

Even as Modu planted, he worried that harvest might be impossible. There are widespread fears that Boko Haram fighters often lie in wait and then pounce on farmers to seize harvests. At one time, he said, his family of three wives and 17 children depended on handouts, but those hardly reached Konduga any more, so he had to do something.

“It’s been a long time since we saw them in our village,” Modu said of food aid distributors. “That’s why I managed to go and get some seedlings, even though the insurgents are still on our neck.”

Aid cuts risk more ‘violence’

The UN and its agencies were the focus of aid cuts from Washington in April, leading to the WFP receiving zero aid from the US this year, Bigenimana said. Like the US, other donors such as the European Union and the United Kingdom have also cut back on aid, instead diverting money to security as tensions remain high over Russia’s war in Ukraine.

The agency catered to some 1.3 million displaced people and others in hard-to-reach areas, fringe locations accessible only by helicopter. For children, the agency ran several nutrition clinics and supported government hospitals with ready-to-use food, a protein mixture made mostly of groundnut, which can rapidly stabilise a malnourished child.

Funding cuts caused the WFP to begin rationing supplies in recent months. In July, resources in Nigeria were completely emptied. At least $130m is required for the agency to speedily get back on track with its operations here, Bigenimana said. Extended lack of support, he said, could push more people into danger.

“People are attempting to go and get firewood to sell outside the secure points,” the official said. “Even when we delay distribution on normal days, people protest. So we are expecting that, and it could get violent.”

Multiple other NGOs across the region were also hit by the Trump aid cuts. They not only provided food aid or nutrition treatment, but also medical services, and crucial vaccines children need in the first years of life to guard against infectious diseases like measles.

Analysts like Adamu, however, criticise aid groups for what he said is their failure to create a system where people don’t rely on food aid. In Borno, the state government has, since 2021, gradually shut down camps for internally displaced people and resettled some in their communities. The aim, the government argues, is to reduce dependency and restore dignity. However, the move faces widespread backlash as aid agencies and rights organisations point out that some areas are still unsafe, and that displaced people simply move to other camps.

“They should have supported the government on security reforms for the state,” Adamu argued. That, he said, would have been a more sustainable way of empowering people and would have eased the food crisis.

Rain time, sick time

For now, the food crisis looks set to continue, and children in particular appear to be bearing the brunt, especially as heavy rains arrive.

Muhammad Bashir Abdullahi, an officer with medical aid group Doctors without Borders, known by its French initials MSF, told Al Jazeera that more malnourished children are being admitted to the organisation’s nutrition facility in Maiduguri since early August. It is possible, he said, that the shuttered services in other organisations were contributing to the higher numbers.

“We used to admit 200 children weekly, but last week we admitted up to 400 children,” Abdullahi said. MSF, which is not dependent on US aid, has recorded more than 6,000 malnourished children in its Maiduguri nutrition centre since January. Typically, children receive the protein paste, or in acute cases, a special milk solution. Abdullahi said more children are likely to be admitted in the coming weeks.

Back at the government hospital where Ali was seeking treatment for her daughter, another woman stopped outside the clinic with her children, twin baby boys.

One of them was sick, the mother, 33-year-old Fatima Muhammad, complained, and is suffering from a swollen head. This is the third hospital she was visiting, as two other facilities managed by NGOs were overwhelmed. Unfortunately, her son had not been accepting the protein paste, a sign that medical experts say signals acute malnutrition.

“His brother is sitting and crawling already, but he still cannot sit,” Muhammad said, her face squeezed in a frown. She blamed herself for not eating enough during her pregnancy, although she hardly had a choice. “I think that’s what affected them. I just need help for my son, nothing more.”

The WFP says aid is being cut by 60 percent for the most vulnerable groups, including pregnant women and disabled people.

The World Food Programme (WFP) has said it will need to drastically cut rations to refugees in Kenya due to reductions in global aid, including major funding cuts from the United States Agency for International Development (USAID).

Residents of the Kakuma and Dadaab refugee camps were beginning to feel the impact of food aid cuts on Monday as the WFP implemented a new assistance system there in which certain groups are prioritised over others.

The WFP said aid is being cut by 60 percent for the most vulnerable groups, including pregnant women and disabled people, and by 80 percent for refugees with some kind of income.

The two camps host nearly 800,000 people fleeing conflict and drought in Somalia and South Sudan, according to the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR).

“WFP’s operations supporting refugees in Kenya are under immense strain,” Baimankay Sankoh, WFP’s deputy country director in Kenya, said in May. “With available resources stretched to their limits, we have had to make the difficult decision to again reduce food assistance. This will have a serious impact on vulnerable refugees, increasing the risk of hunger and malnutrition.”

“There has been a lot of tension in the last couple of weeks or so,” Al Jazeera’s Catherine Soi said, reporting from Kakuma.

“People were very angry about what WFP is calling the priority food distribution, where some people will not get food at all and others are going to get a small fraction of the food.”

These tensions boiled over, triggering protests last week, which left one person dead and several others injured, said Soi, adding that WFP officials she spoke with said the aid cuts from organisations like USAID meant they have had to make “very difficult decisions about who gets to eat and who doesn’t”.

WFP worker Thomas Chica explained to Soi that the new system was rolled out after assessments were conducted by WFP and its partners.

Refugees are now assessed based on their needs, rather than their status, said Chica. “We need to look at them separately and differently and see how best we can channel the system so that it provides.”

The impact of these cuts is severe amid concerns over malnutrition. The Global Acute Malnutrition (GAM) rate among refugee children and pregnant or breastfeeding women in Kenya is above 13 percent. A GAM rate over 10 percent is classed as a nutrition emergency.

“Already the food that is being issued is quite low, 40 percent of the recommended ration, and this is being shared by a bigger chunk of the population,” Chica said, adding that stocks will therefore not last as long as hoped.

This reduction took effect in February and is based on a daily recommended intake of 2,100kcal.

With its current resources dating from last year, WFP will only be able to provide assistance until December or January, said Chica.

WFP said in May that $44m was required to provide full rations and restore cash assistance for all refugees just through August.

‘It’s important work’

Back at the waste yard, business has died down for the day.

Bamfo and her youngest children, Nkunim, 10, and Josephine, 6, are emptying the last few bottles. She will be in bed by 8pm, rising at midnight for her Bible studies before starting work again at dawn.

Bamfo never thought she would become a waste picker.

She was 19 when she finally gained her school certificate, and by selling oranges, she scraped together enough money for a secretarial course. But she couldn’t afford a typewriter.

While the other girls tapped away at their machines, she drew the keyboard on her exercise book and practiced on that, pressing her fingers into the paper.

Soon, the money ran out. Instead of the office job she dreamed of, she found work breaking stones on a building site.

“At that moment, I see myself – I’m a big loser, and there’s nothing,” says Bamfo, leaning forward on her office chair to keep a watch for any final delivery tricycles. “I see the world is against me.”

Then one morning she woke to find the building site had disappeared overnight, replaced by a dump: Truckloads of water sachets, drinks bottles and nylon wigs.

Her five children lay sleeping. Her husband, as usual, had not come home. To buy cassava to make banku – dumpling stew – she needed money urgently.

A friend had told her that factories in the city would buy plastic waste for a few cedis a kilogramme. It was one of the lowliest jobs there were, involving not only backbreaking labour but stigma and shame.

“If you are a woman doing this waste picking, people think you have no family to care for you,” she says. “They think you are bad. They think you are a witch.”

She came home one day to find her husband had abandoned her. But not before he had called her father to tell him his daughter had become a “vulture”.

Estrangement from her father only compounded the shame. To escape her neighbours’ taunts, Bamfo moved with her children to the other side of the city.

There, she took over her small yard, buying waste from pickers and selling it on to factories and recycling plants. Bit by bit, she built a wooden house. Eventually, she plucked up the courage to phone her father.

“I said, ‘Come and see the work I do. See that it is not something to feel bad about.’”

When he saw the yard and the tricycle teams that had become Bamfo’s business, Nkosoo Waste Management (“nkosoo” is Twi for “progress”), he couldn’t help but be impressed.

“You are not a woman, you are a man,” she recalls him telling her once, half admiring and half accusing. “The heart that you have – even your brother doesn’t have that heart.”

Now she hopes to pass on some of her resilience. King, her supervisor at the yard, slept on a nearby dumpsite as a small child and says Bamfo and her waste business saved him. “I cannot say a bad thing about her. She is my mother.”

As night settles on Accra, the polluting plastic tide has crept a little higher. But Bamfo has, she says, found dignity in the fight to keep it at bay.

“It is important work we do,” she says. “Sometimes I feel very sad and bad about not getting the education I wanted. But we clean the city. I think of that.”

This story was produced in partnership with SourceMaterial

Bulawayo, Zimbabwe – When Lloyd Muzamba was critically injured in a car accident on the Harare–Bulawayo highway in 2023, he needed an urgent blood transfusion to save his life. Despite being admitted at Mpilo Central Hospital, the biggest public health facility in Zimbabwe’s Matabeleland region, a shortage of supplies meant the doctors didn’t have enough for him.

In desperation, Muzamba’s family turned to their only other option – a nearby private hospital that sold them the three pints of blood. But at a cost of $250 per pint, Muzamba – who earned a $270 monthly salary and had no savings – could not afford it.

With time running out, the family had to make a plan. Eventually, Muzamba’s uncle sold a cow for $300 and asked other relatives to contribute the balance.

Two years on, the now recovered Muzamba says the incident has left him psychologically wounded, as he worries about other emergencies when people may need lifesaving blood.

“Three pints can be a small number; others might need more than that. But due to the costs involved, it becomes life-threatening,” said the 35-year-old, who works in a hardware store in Bulawayo.

“I could not get the blood without paying or making a payment plan. It was a painful experience for an ordinary Zimbabwean like me.”

Muzamba’s is not an isolated case.

With ongoing currency woes, rising costs of living and high levels of poverty, desperate Zimbabweans in need of care face life-threatening delays due to financial barriers. This includes blood shortages – despite supplies being free in public health facilities.

Tanaka Moyo, a mother of two in the capital Harare, also experienced the stress of needing to pay for emergency blood supplies during the delivery of her second child.

After excessive postpartum haemorrhaging, the 38-year-old street vendor needed four pints of blood.

Together with her husband, a security guard, she had struggled to raise money for the birth of their child. The sudden need for a blood transfusion was a shocking unplanned cost.

“My husband ran around and borrowed money from a microfinance institution. The interests are steep and conditions stringent, but he had to act quickly,” said Moyo.

“At the hospital, they insisted the blood was free – but it was not available.”

Plaxedes Charuma, a gynaecologist in Bulawayo, says “postpartum haemorrhage is the leading cause of maternal mortality”. The prevalence of the condition means that hospitals should always have supplies on hand to deal with maternal blood loss emergencies that arise, health experts say.

According to the Community Working Group on Health (CWGH), a network of civic health organisations in Zimbabwe, the country faces a high demand for blood transfusions, and those most affected are pregnant women.

“About half a million pregnancies are expected in Zimbabwe, and in some of these, there is excessive blood loss, requiring transfusion of at least three pints of blood,” said Itai Rusike, CWGH’s executive director.

“Maternal mortality in Zimbabwe remains unacceptably high,” Rusike told Al Jazeera. “Timely blood transfusion prevents maternal deaths, which in Zimbabwe stands at 212 women dying per every 100,000 live births.”

‘Free blood for all’

Generally, there are two major types of blood transfusions: allogeneic and autologous. Autologous transfusion refers to self-same blood donation by an individual for their own use later. Allogeneic transfusion, which is the most common in Zimbabwe, involves administering blood donated by one person to another who matches their blood type.

The National Blood Service Zimbabwe (NBSZ) is the body that oversees blood donation and distribution in the country. It operates as an independent not-for-profit entity, but it is mandated by law to collect, process and distribute blood throughout Zimbabwe.

While the Ministry of Health and Child Care is permanently represented on its board of directors, NBSZ functions independently of hospitals and government health institutions. It is not present in every facility, but maintains decentralised distribution from five regional centres: Harare, Bulawayo, Gweru, Masvingo and Mutare.

Historically, patients in Zimbabwe paid for blood, but over the years the government worked on lowering costs – from $150 a pint in 2016 and prior to $50 by 2018.

The government then went a step further in July that year, deciding that blood would be made free at all public health institutions.

“The free blood for all move is going ahead as planned and mechanisms have already been put in place to finance the move, and come July 1 [2018], blood will be available for free,” said then-Minister of Health and Child Care Dr David Parirenyatwa during the June 2018 World Blood Donor Day celebrations.

However, despite the policy, hospitals continue to face shortages.

This May, there was a critical lack of blood in public hospitals, a situation that threatened the lives of thousands of people, the Ministry of Health and Child Care said in a statement. Al Jazeera contacted ministry spokesperson Donald Mujiri to ask about the shortage and the implementation of the free blood policy, but he did not respond to our requests for comment.

NBSZ, meanwhile, said that May’s shortage was due to operational and systemic challenges that disrupted its ability to carry out routine blood collection activities.

“Without timely financial support, we faced constraints in mobilising outreach teams, securing fuel, and procuring essential supplies,” Vickie Maponga, NBSZ communications officer, told Al Jazeera.

“Additionally, the crisis was exacerbated by a seasonal dip in donations, particularly from youth, who make up over 70 percent of our donor base.”

These shortages regularly result in patients on the front line needing to buy blood at private clinics. In most cases, the patient is physically transferred to the private facility for the transfusion, where they pay the costs. In some cases, the patient pays and the private hospital sends the blood to them in the public hospital.

Crucial blood donations

The World Health Organization (WHO) aims to ensure that all countries practicing blood transfusions obtain their blood supplies from voluntary blood donors.

The NBSZ told Al Jazeera that a sustainable blood supply in Zimbabwe depends on cultivating a culture of regular, voluntary donations, particularly among the youth and underserved communities.

The service has a mobile outreach model, through which it brings blood donation drives directly to schools and communities. To further engage the youth, Maponga said they also started a club that “encourages young people to commit to donating blood at least 25 times in their lifetime”.

“We also integrate blood donation awareness into school programmes and partner with tertiary institutions to maintain continuity post-high school,” she said.

Ivy Khumalo, 32, is one of those who has been donating blood since she was in high school. But she says the lack of blood donation centres around her now limits her ability to give as an adult.

“As a school child, it was [first started] as a result of peer pressure, but I found it fascinating,” Khumalo said. “It was only when I was an adult that I made a personal decision to continue donating out of love to save life and help those in need.”

But since moving from Bulawayo to Hwange, she said, donating blood has become expensive as the nearest centre is in Victoria Falls, over 100km (62 miles) away.

NBSZ says it routinely deploys mobile blood drives around the country. It also says it offers donors incentives.

“Regular donors who meet specific criteria such as having made at least 10 donations, with the most recent within the past 12 months, qualify for free blood and blood products for themselves and their immediate family members … in times of medical need,” explained Maponga.

However, for keen donors like Khumalo, the effort to reach a far-off donation site is a barrier to entry.

“In such circumstances, it is no longer a free donation as I spent money going there. In the end, most of us decide to stay home despite the passion for blood donation,” she said.

CWGH’s Rusike says the NBSZ and Ministry of Health and Child Care must urgently devise innovative and sustainable ways to increase the number of eligible blood donors.

“The government should utilise the Health Levy Fund of 5 percent tax on airtime and mobile data as it was set up to specifically subsidise the cost of blood and assist public health institutions to replace obsolete equipment and address the perennial drug shortages in our public health institutions,” he said. “That money should be ring-fenced and used for its intended purpose in a more accountable and transparent manner.”

Promises and shortages

Authorities say that as of mid-2025, Zimbabwe’s national blood supply is showing good progress, and NBSZ has already collected over 73 percent of its half-year target (the 2025 annual target is 97,500 units).

The blood service also says the Ministry of Health and Child Care plays a central role in both subsidising and overseeing the cost of blood within the public health sector.

“Since 2018, this [free blood policy] is made possible through a government-funded coupon system, which absorbs the full cost of $250 per unit, resulting in zero cost to the recipient [in public hospitals],” said Maponga.

The NBSZ maintains that it operates on a cost recovery basis. It says the entire chain of collecting, processing and distributing a pint of blood costs $245. The agency charges $250, making a $5 profit per pint.

However, prices at some private facilities can reach as much as $500 per pint, Zimbabweans say. This has sparked heated debate on social media, as the high cost remains far out of reach for many people.

“NBSZ does not have regulatory authority over how those institutions price their services to patients,” said Maponga, explaining that while blood itself is donated freely, the journey from “vein to vein” involves a complex and resource-intensive process.

Observers, however, say more can be done to lower the costs of blood transfusions.

“At closer look, the whole chain of blood transfusion can cost less than $150 by strategically deploying available resources, use of financial donor stakeholders like corporates, and also holding the government accountable to fund the whole process,” said Carlton Ntini, a socioeconomic justice activist in Bulawayo.

The issue of free blood in the public hospitals is noble, Ntini said, but without full implementation, it remains a false hope and only benefits the “lucky” few, as shortages are the order of the day.

“In reality, any amount above $50 per pint of blood will still be high to Zimbabweans, and it’s a death sentence,” he said.

Meanwhile, for patients, the cost of essentials only adds to an already stressful situation.

Muzamba was fortunate in that his family did not claim back the money they gave him for his blood transfusion. But Moyo and her husband struggled to settle their $1,000 loan debt, which escalated to $1,400 after interest.

“It psychologically drained me more than the physical pain as I wondered, ‘Where would I get such money in this economy?’” said Moyo. “The government must own up to its promises – it’s not only about being free, but must be accessible.”