Central Gaza – Sahar al-Bardini prepares breakfast for her three children in a tent at the al-Zawaida camp in central Gaza. She watches them eat but is already worried about finding their next meal.
The 35-year-old is the sole breadwinner for six-year-old Omar, four-year-old Sama and Mahmoud aged three since her husband was killed in Israeli shelling of northern Gaza three years ago.
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Like many families in Gaza, they are struggling with soaring food prices, largely due to Israel’s long-running siege, with concerns that the population could be plunged into famine again.
During last year’s famine, the whole family – Omar and Sama in particular – suffered from a lack of food and vital nutrients. Eggs and vegetables were difficult to find in markets and when available, almost impossible to afford.
Even though the family can eat more regularly today, they still only have one meal a day. Omar and Sama’s bodies are still counting the cost of the months of famine between August and December 2025.
“Omar and Sama became very weak during the famine and lost a lot of weight. Even after food became more available, it took them around six months to gradually regain their health and weight,” she told Al Jazeera.
“My biggest fear is that my children will become weak again. I want to see them healthy, but the food they need isn’t easy for me to provide every day.”
Sahar and her children still struggle to find enough food to eat [Eman Abu Zayed/Al Jazeera]
Their plight comes as the United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA) warned last week that Gaza faces a severe food emergency that could develop into another famine.
Justin Brady, head of OCHA in Palestine, warned that 67 percent of Gaza’s population was suffering from food insecurity. More than 200,000 people – around 10 percent of Gaza’s population – were living in conditions that usually precede a formal famine declaration by the Integrated Food Security Phase Classification.
In the area where Sahar lives, community kitchens have become the main source of food for many families. The meals they serve – mostly rice and other basic ingredients, but very rarely meat – are enough to stave off starvation, but children still lack essential nutrients and protein that are essential for growth.
“The meal fills their stomachs, but it doesn’t contain everything a child’s body needs to be properly nourished and regain strength,” Sahar said. “The children need a more varied diet – they need eggs, vegetables, fruit, meat and other things. I try to provide whatever I can but my means are limited.”
With little money, Sahar makes the most of any food vouchers or assistance she receives, but it is never enough. That means prioritising the family’s most urgent needs which begin with food, followed by clothes, medicine and then other basic necessities for the youngsters.
“When I receive food vouchers, I try to make the most of them. Everything is expensive, and I’m carrying the responsibility of three children on my own,” she said.
A girl fills containers with water drawn from the leftovers of underground pipes at a camp for people displaced by war in the Sheikh Radwan neighbourhood of Gaza City [Omar AL-Qataa/AFP]
Shimaa, 25, was unable to find enough milk for her two-year-old daughter, Selina, during the last famine, so was forced to find any alternative to fill her stomach.
“I tried to feed her whatever I had. Sometimes I gave her lentils instead of milk because I didn’t have milk to give her,” she told Al Jazeera. “I work day and night so I can provide her with food and everything she needs – everything I do is so I can see her in better health.”
Still, the family struggle to afford enough money for food and so Selina remains weak and severely malnourished.
“Even after the famine eased, its effects didn’t go away for my daughter,” Shimaa said. “I’m worried about her and I’m trying to do everything I can to help her get better.”
Nutrition specialist, Dr Ghada Jibril, said the current food crisis has forced parents to rely on rice and lentils to feed their infants. While they contain some nutrients, it means a gap in kid’s diets, particularly for those who starved during the famine.
“A child who has experienced severe malnutrition needs a period of regular nutrition and follow-up care to regain their weight and resume healthy growth,” Jibril said.
“The end of acute hunger does not mean that the effects of malnutrition disappear immediately. Children need a varied diet, not simply enough food to fill their stomachs – protein, iron, vitamins and minerals are essential for growth, brain development and a strong immune system. Recovering from malnutrition takes time, appropriate food and follow-up care.”
Citizen vigilantes patrol Ghana’s streets, fighting an opioid crisis. We meet those taking the law into their own hands.
Ghana is facing an opioid addiction crisis, with a flood of cheap, synthetic drugs destroying lives and communities. In the northern city of Tamale, a group of civilians, frustrated by what they see as the inaction of local authorities, are taking the law into their own hands. The ‘anti-drug task force’ patrols the streets, seeking out dealers and users and meting out its own brand of justice. Some government officials condemn the vigilantes, while others embrace them as a useful tool in the fight against illegal drugs. As word spreads about the success of Tamale’s task force, some question whether civilians can properly replace state services – and warn about the dangers of vigilante justice.
As two powerful earthquakes hit Venezuela, west of Caracas, in quick succession on Wednesday, the country’s capital sustained extensive damage.
Authorities were continuing to search for people under the rubble of collapsed buildings on Friday as 235 people were confirmed to have been killed, with 4,300 more injured.
Here is more about why Caracas has sustained so much damage.
How badly damaged is Caracas?
A magnitude 7.2 earthquake struck about 160km (100 miles) west of Caracas, followed less than a minute later by a magnitude 7.5 tremor, the strongest since 1900, according to the US Geological Survey (USGS).
Jorge Rodriguez, head of Venezuela’s national assembly and brother of interim President Delcy Rodriguez, said earlier in the day that 200 people had been trapped, with 250 buildings damaged or destroyed nationwide.
In Caracas and nearby coastal areas, at least eight hospitals, the headquarters of the Venezuelan Red Cross and the French embassy were among buildings reported to have been badly damaged.
Initial assessments released on Thursday put the estimated economic damage at between 1 and 7 percent of Venezuela’s $111bn gross domestic product (GDP). Authorities have not yet provided a separate estimate for losses in the capital.
However, the heaviest damage has been reported in Caracas itself, Al Jazeera’s Teresa Bo, reporting from Bogota in neighbouring Colombia, said on Thursday.
Public infrastructure was also heavily damaged, with acting President Rodriguez reporting power outages in Caracas.
Health Minister Carlos Alvarado said late on Thursday that 235 people had been confirmed dead at medical centres across Venezuela. He also told state media that about 4,300 people had been reported injured so far. Hundreds more are feared trapped or missing under the rubble.
How badly has the city been damaged in previous earthquakes?
This is not the first time Caracas has suffered heavy damage in an earthquake.
In 1812, a powerful earthquake roiled the cities of Merida and Caracas, killing about 30,000 people, according to the USGS. The tremors caused near-total destruction of Caracas’s colonial architecture, flattening homes, churches and public institutions.
In 1967, another earthquake hit the city, causing several high-rise buildings to collapse and killing 240 people.
(Al Jazeera)
Why has Caracas been so hard-hit?
Venezuela has a long history of devastating earthquakes because it is located along the boundary between the Caribbean and South American tectonic plates.
Caracas is also in a deep sedimentary basin, which amplifies the seismic waves from earthquakes, Vashan Wright, a geophysicist at the University of California in San Diego, told Al Jazeera.
Another reason Caracas is so vulnerable to damage from earthquakes is that its buildings and infrastructure are not specifically designed to withstand tremors and are often standing on insecure ground.
Al Jazeera’s Teresa Bo said the heaviest damage in Caracas occurred in the Altamira district, where emergency crews pulled survivors from the rubble of a 22-storey building while relatives searched for missing family members. Officials said they are still assessing the full extent of the destruction.
“For example, in the [hard-hit] area of Altamira in Caracas, many of the buildings that collapsed are built on sediments, and this makes them much more vulnerable to seismic waves,” Bo said.
“Also, there’s lots of informal housing in several areas across the country, and those types of buildings are not prepared to sustain very strong earthquakes,” she added.
Adequate urban planning and building codes, which incorporate seismic activity, require substantial funding, which Venezuela can ill afford as it has long been subject to heavy sanctions from the United States and other Western countries.
While some sanctions have been lifted since the US abducted former President Nicolas Maduro in a military strike on Caracas in January and he was replaced by Rodriguez, Caracas is still grappling with the effects of decades of underinvestment.
Another issue for Caracas is that at about 7.8km, the earthquakes were shallow, which means they were more destructive than deeper quakes of the same magnitude would have been.
In deeper earthquakes, much of the energy dissipates as it moves through layers of rock. By contrast, shallow ones release their energy closer to the ground, producing stronger shaking and greater damage in populated areas.
How many people live in informal housing in Caracas?
People living in informal housing are more at risk than others during earthquakes because low-cost, self-built housing structures, often built on hillsides and other slopes, are not resilient against tremors.
The slums in Caracas are known as barrios and are densely populated, lacking proper infrastructure. They comprise self-constructed housing or structures built with unreinforced cinderblocks or bricks, often without formal foundations or steel reinforcement, mostly on the mountainous hillsides surrounding the capital.
The lack of proper urban planning, coupled with construction on steep slopes, makes the barrios vulnerable to natural disasters.
While there is no official figure for the number of Venezuelans living in informal settlements in Caracas, academic estimates suggest they account for 40 to 50 percent of the city’s nearly five million residents.
According to the latest National Survey of Living Conditions (ENCOVI), about 55 percent of Venezuelans are living in poverty.
Which countries are better prepared for earthquakes?
Many parts of the world have adapted infrastructure with seismic engineering. Many earthquake-prone countries now plan and construct buildings with damage mitigation from tremors in mind.
Japan, one of the most quake-prone nations in the world, has strict building codes, which means many structures survive shaking that would devastate poorly built homes in parts of Indonesia or Central America. In most inland earthquakes, the majority of deaths and injuries are caused when poorly built structures collapse rather than by the shaking itself.
Japan has made enormous public investments in seismic research and has superior access to advanced engineering technologies like base isolation, which involves the installation of massive steel or rubber shock absorbers beneath the foundations of buildings.
This is why global deaths and destruction from earthquakes have reduced in the past decades. For instance, in 1556, the deadliest earthquake in recorded history in China’s Shaanxi killed about 830,000 people. In 2023, an earthquake hit northwestern China near the Shaanxi province, killing 127 people.
China has announced it will send a round of humanitarian aid to Lebanon and Iran and play an active role in fostering regional peace. The foreign ministry spokesman described Beijing as ‘deeply saddened’ by the humanitarian disaster.
In April, I accompanied a friend on a visit to villages in Daikundi province, central Afghanistan. The purpose of the trip was to speak to farmer beneficiaries of a project that an NGO operating in the agriculture sector had carried out and to follow up on its impact. The week I spent travelling with him was quite eye-opening regarding the state of the non-profit sector in the country.
The project in question provided zero-energy storage houses to preserve harvests, such as fruit and vegetables, in rural areas. On the surface, the idea was promising: provide farmers with storage space so they could sell their produce over a few months.
However, the farmers we spoke to in several villages showed us heaps of apples decaying beneath the trees. They complained that the storage houses had space for the apples of only two to three families in the entire village.
In another village, we saw frustration with another project from a different NGO. That organisation had bought imported seeds for various vegetables and distributed them among farmers. Staff members provided training, conducted weeks of workshops on cultivation methods and techniques, and regularly monitored the crops.
The local participants invested significant time, energy, land, and water in the project. But the harvest they got from these imported seeds was very little and of poor quality. Despite the enormous amount of money spent by the NGO on surveying, training, logistics, transportation, and staff salaries, the vegetables for each family amounted to about 450 Afghans (roughly $7). There was no accountability for the farmers’ losses.
Such stories are common across rural communities in Afghanistan. While aid organisations publish reports of their achievements, many beneficiaries gain little from poorly designed projects that fail to address the real challenges they face. The cost of these projects is extremely high, but the output is often too little.
Since the Taliban took over Kabul and the US-led coalition withdrew from the country, humanitarian aid and funding in Afghanistan have dramatically collapsed. The struggle to secure funds, however, has not led to better efficiency, accountability, and transparency among the NGOs still operating in Afghanistan.
This is not a recent phenomenon. Between 2001 and 2021, Afghanistan became the poster child for corruption, embezzlement, and waste of foreign aid. One US journalist described it as “the $148 bn failure”.
According to the Special Inspector General for Afghanistan Reconstruction (SIGAR), set up by the United States to investigate fraud with US funds, between $26bn and $29bn was lost due to embezzlement or wasteful spending. This was just funding provided by the US government; there is no estimate for how much was wasted from other donors.
While much of the foreign funds went to the security sector, a significant amount went to the non-profit sphere, where waste was also widespread. Millions, if not billions, worth of projects became a missed opportunity to improve the lives of Afghans, especially in rural areas. This is a legacy that persists to this day.
This situation is not unique to Afghanistan. The development sector across the world is known for waste and inefficiency. In the Afghan context, that is exacerbated by the lack of control and difficulty of ground work.
Many foreign NGOs do not directly implement their projects; instead, they work through implementing partners (IPs), which themselves outsource implementation to subcontractors. This extended chain of actors means that often there is a lack of proper quality control and supervision, and there is motivation to carry out lower-quality work in order to increase profit.
Furthermore, the primary concern of IPs is securing funding. So they often present project proposals that look great on paper but do not necessarily have a substantial impact on the circumstances of the local population or address their most urgent needs.
Finally, there is a lot of waste in remuneration, especially when it comes to international staff. Foreign employees often have salaries as high as $10,000–20,000 for doing work that a local hire can do for much less.
It is clear that amid global cuts to donor funding, the development sector is struggling. This should be a moment of change. In Afghanistan, where the need of the local population is enormous while available financing is shrinking, NGOs can take this change into their own hands.
The simplest first step NGOs can take is to employ qualified locals to plan and lead projects. They would know the local culture, realities, and actual needs of communities, as well as market prices and field conditions. They can help not only optimise project costs but also ensure that they actually have a real, measurable impact.
In addition, NGOs should avoid having an extended chain of IPs and subcontractors. They should also regularly collect feedback from local communities and field workers directly in order to evaluate project effectiveness during implementation in order to avoid repeating the same mistakes.
Projects are more likely to produce sustainable results if NGOs invest in addressing pressing nationwide challenges, such as unemployment, infrastructure, and market access.
Improving efficiency and effectiveness would not only ensure Afghan beneficiaries get better services and help, but it would also make organisations more competitive for the dwindling pool of funding. This is the only way to salvage the NGO sector not only in Afghanistan but in the rest of the world.
The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial stance.
Bembou Silaty, Guinea – Mamadou Aliou walks through the small village of Bembou Silaty in northwestern Guinea carrying an irresolvable contradiction.
The 38-year-old works in the environmental health and safety department for a bauxite mining company, yet he is also an activist striving to improve life in his community, which often means criticising the actions of another mining company in the area.
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“Before these companies arrived, we cultivated our land, and it sustained us,” Aliou told Al Jazeera.
“We could cover our daily needs, especially food. But now, when a piece of land is registered and belongs to a mining company, you have nothing there any more.”
The foreign-linked mining companies are part of the global scramble for Guinea’s bauxite. The West African nation holds the world’s biggest reserves of the ore, which is the source material for alumina and ultimately aluminium, a metal essential for car and aircraft frames, windows, wind turbines, and solar panels.
Over the past three decades, Guinea has multiplied its bauxite production tenfold. More than a dozen projects of bauxite production are currently ongoing in the country, according to the online cadastre.
As the global energy transition demands ever more aluminium, it has placed Guinea in a strategically crucial position. Approximately 75 percent of the bauxite exported by the country over the past decade has ended up in China, which produces 60 percent of the world’s aluminium.
Companies from Russia, the United States, and the United Arab Emirates have also established themselves in the country to secure the ore. In Bembou Silaty, an Indian company that began operations in 2019 now holds an exploitation concession until 2034.
Located in the prefecture of Telimele (Kindia region), Bembou Silaty has undergone a transformation since bauxite was discovered on its land about five years ago.
Yet, on the ground, many lament the cost: Contaminated water, loss of farmland, and a steep decline in agricultural productivity.
Mamadou Aliou, left, speaks to another resident in Bembou Silaty [Nuria Vila Coma/Al Jazeera]
‘No land, no money’
In the traditional bauxite heartlands of Kindia and Boke, the main roads are in notably good condition, a cut above the rest of the country. Steady jobs in technical roles or transport logistics have created economic opportunities for some Guineans.
Yet Bembou Silaty remains a quiet, peaceful village without electricity, and farming methods that are untouched by mechanisation.
Less than 2km (1.2 miles) away, however, the lush green landscape and mild climate of the rainy season give way to the electric-powered site of the Indian mining company.
There, excavators and trucks laden with bauxite constantly traverse the wide, unpaved roads, built to accommodate the heavy traffic, in a noisy, busy zone where the mining economy bulldozes its way forward.
People working in technical roles at the mine can earn up to about $300 a month.
For other locals who make a living from farming, most don’t have a regular wage and rely on the yield from their crops.
Across Guinea, an estimated half of the population depends on agriculture for their livelihood.
Locals in Bembou Silaty say every hectare claimed by mining is a hectare lost to farming, in a country that spent more than $500m importing rice in 2024.
“They give you compensation for your land, but it’s not enough, and in the end, it’s mismanaged,” Aliou said.
“Within a month or two, someone who received 50 or 100 million Guinean francs ($5,700-11,400) has nothing left. No land, no money. They have to start over, from below zero.”
Locals who still own land continue to grow rice, cassava, peanuts and cashews in the village, but they have ever less space and agricultural productivity is falling.
The village women have set up an association, “Allawalli” (which means “God help us” in Fula), to work cooperatively.
Resident Fatoumata Binta Bah and her family lament having lost their land [Nuria Vila Coma/Al Jazeera]
‘Not enough’
Walking through the alleys of Bembou Silaty, a few houses stand out.
They are made of cement, which withstands the rains better than the more common mud-brick homes, though many remain unfinished.
Locals say they were built with compensation money.
Fatoumata Binta Bah, a neighbour of Aliou’s, comes from a family of farmers. They once cultivated cashews, their livelihood.
Then the Indian mining company started up operations and offered them less than 50 million Guinean francs (about $5,700) for their land. That compensation, paid as a lump sum, seemed like a decent amount of money, she says.
But now, the money is gone, and their new house is still incomplete.
“The land they took from us was productive. That’s what we lived on,” said Bah, 20, as she prepared tea over a fire in the family courtyard.
“In the end, it wasn’t enough,” she lamented.
The Indian company did not respond to Al Jazeera’s questions on the purchase of land.
Meanwhile, on the outskirts of the village, surgical holes drilled into the ground mark where mining companies have tested for bauxite – a reminder to the farmers that the impact on the land is felt even before extraction begins.
In a recent report, Djami Diallo, the Guinean minister of the environment and sustainable development, stated that each year, certain companies had their impact studies and evaluation reports rejected for failing to comply with environmental standards.
Three or four companies in Boke, Kindia’s neighbouring region that is considered the bauxite capital in the country, were said to be affected. But the minister acknowledged that “just because companies do not meet the conditions to obtain the compliance certificate does not mean that everything stops.”
Locals carry water from a communal tap in Bembou Silaty [Nuria Vila Coma/Al Jazeera]
Clean water, the greatest challenge
Not all homes in Bembou Silaty, a community of about 5,000, have indoor toilets and plumbing. In the centre of the village, there are communal latrines for those who do not have facilities available in their homes. Showers can be taken in the same place, using a bucket and water collected from the spring.
One small gain for the community since the mining company’s arrival is a new water point in the village. The tap serves nearly all the residents. Even Aliou uses it to fill buckets for his household – for cooking and drinking – though he says he knows the water contains iron, as contamination occurs.
Still, he considers himself luckier than his friends in the neighbouring village of Koussadji Dow, who rely on now-brown, contaminated river water.
Tala Oury Sow, a trader and farmer, washes her cooking utensils in the murky river water – a daily struggle.
She starts speaking softly, surrounded by neighbours, but her voice rises to a shout.
“Do you think we can live like this?
“We had hoped the mining company’s arrival would improve things, but it has gotten worse,” she protested.
“Since the mining companies came, we’ve had this problem with the water. The children get sick, and the parents too,” added Mariama Kindi Diallo, a farmer, in her courtyard.
“The doctors tell us not to drink the rain or river water. There are no roads, no school, no phone signal. What are we supposed to do? We are asking for help to have a dignified life,” she pleaded, as her family and neighbours nodded in agreement.
The Indian company did not respond to requests for comment on these issues.
Guinea’s capital, Conakry [Nuria Vila Coma/Al Jazeera]
‘We need refineries here’
To escape the increasingly difficult conditions in villages like Bembou Silaty, some people leave the rural areas and head to the capital, Conakry.
Bauxite mining so dominates Guinea that one can chance upon a driver of one of the trains hauling ore from the mines to the port of Kamsar.
Alpha, who did not want his real name published, works for a United States-backed company and provides a window into the immense volume of resources being exported.
“We operate six trains of 150 wagons each day,” he said, explaining that the annual target for 2025 was to export 17.5 million tonnes of bauxite.
“The government wants to change things, because the profits we make in Guinea right now are small. We need refineries here to increase the state’s revenue,” he added.
Alpha lives near the coast, where his job has allowed him to build a house for his family and achieve a standard of living unattainable for most of his compatriots.
The government of Mamady Doumbouya, which came to power in a 2021 coup, is attempting to reorganise the mining sector. It is pressing investors to process bauxite within Guinea, ensuring a portion of the value stays in the country.
Processing bauxite into aluminium can multiply its price by 37 times.
Instability in Iran amid the US and Israel’s war has contributed to rising aluminium prices, which surpassed $3,600 per tonne in April.
Doumbouya is set to lead the country for the next seven years, after winning the December 2025 elections with nearly 87 percent of the vote. While opponents view him as illegitimate, many Guineans agree on the need to reform the mining sector.
Achieving this, however, requires a huge increase in electricity generation – power that is non-existent in villages like Bembou Silaty and unreliable even in Conakry, where blackouts are frequent when fans and TVs are switched on at night.
Guinea is working with neighbouring Senegal on a solution: Using Senegalese gas to generate enough electricity to process its bauxite on African soil. Currently, both countries export raw materials, while jobs and wealth are created elsewhere.
A train carrying bauxite is seen in Conakry, Guinea [Nuria Vila Coma/Al Jazeera]
Following the bauxite route
More than 3,000km (1,900 miles) away, across the ocean, Spain is also a part of the Guinean bauxite story.
Parets del Valles, a municipality of 18,000 people less than 30km (19 miles) from Barcelona, represents the journey’s end.
From the town centre to its industrial outskirts, businesses specialising in aluminium are plentiful: Aluminium distribution, carpentry, and window fitting, much of them serving household needs.
For Spain, Europe’s largest consumer of Guinean bauxite, more than 90 percent of its imports come from Guinea-Conakry.
The aluminium produced there, mainly in the country’s north, feeds the automotive industry and serves both industrial and domestic purposes.
Parets is another world compared with the bauxite’s point of origin in Guinea.
In Spain, there is light, hot water, paved roads – all the base elements of a decent life. It’s why many say growing numbers of West Africans are arriving in Parets and across the Valles Oriental region. This is part of a broader trend in Catalonia and Spain, according to the Spanish National Statistics Institute (INE): The Guinean population has quadrupled in Spain since 2000 – from 2,700 to 11,000 people – and in Catalonia from 1,000 to 4,000.
These figures don’t include those who go unregistered.
Increasingly, more boats are leaving directly from Guinea, towards the Canary Islands and on to mainland Europe. According to Frontex, the European Union border security agency, more Guineans arrived in the Canary Islands, Spain, in 2023 (2,324) than in the previous 13 years combined. In 2024 and 2025 combined, another 6,000 Guineans arrived.
Migrants, predominantly men from Senegal and increasingly from Guinea, come alone, settling where they have contacts and job prospects. The newest arrivals, often very young, spend long hours with their mobile phones as their sole companion – the only tether to the country they left behind.
Many left, following the bauxite trail, hoping to find something more in the places where their resources are both enjoyed and exploited.
As Aliou, back in Bembou Silaty, says: “If you compare the bauxite we export with what we get in return, the difference is enormous. We gain almost nothing. Just enough to survive.”
This article was produced in collaboration with the Catalan association SETEM Catalunya, promoted by the Connect for Global Change consortium and Lafede.cat, and with financial support from the European Union and the Government of Catalonia (Generalitat de Catalunya)
Cuba has begun distributing donated powdered milk from Mexico and Uruguay as the island faces severe shortages and a deepening economic crisis. Officials say young children, pregnant women and paediatric facilities will be prioritised.