shortages

Nov. 1 (UPI) — Federal Aviation Administration officials on Friday night urged Congress to approve government funding as more air traffic controllers call in sick amid the shutdown.

The nation’s nearly 13,000 air traffic controllers and additional Transportation Security Administration agents are deemed essential, but they are not being paid during the government shutdown that started on Oct.1.

Now in its 32nd day on Saturday, the FAA said the strain on unpaid employees is causing many to call in sick due to other obligations, such as supervising children, and out of frustration, The Hill reported.

“A surge in callouts is straining staffing levels at multiple facilities, leading to widespread impacts across the [National Airspace System,” FAA personnel posted on X.

“Half of our Core 30 facilities are experiencing staffing shortages, and nearly 80% of air traffic controllers are absent at New York-area facilities.”

The FAA post said the “shutdown must end” so that air traffic controllers can get paid and to ensure the safety of more than 50,000 daily operations across the country.

When experiencing staffing shortages, the FAA reduces the amount of air traffic to maintain safety, which could cause flight delays or cancellations, the post said.

Such staffing shortages caused delays at airports in Boston, Dallas, Nashville and Newark, N.J., among several others, according to ABC News.

The shutdown is the second-longest in U.S. history, but it is poised to exceed the current record-holder of 35 days from December 2018 to January 2019.

During that shutdown, air traffic controllers again worked without pay until the government reopened and they received back pay.

Air traffic controllers earn a median salary of $150,000 annually, but new hires are paid about $50,000, aviation industry labor expertJake Rosenfeld of Washington University in St. Louis told ABC News.

The Senate has failed 13 times to obtain the 60 votes needed to overcome the Senate’s filibuster rule and fund the federal government while continuing to work on a 2026 fiscal year budget.

The Senate reconvenes on Monday, which is one day short of the record 35-day shutdown.

On a hot October morning, fuel pumps at a dozen service stations in Bamako, the capital of Mali, sputtered to a stop. Drivers who had spent hours waiting in line left empty-handed. Motorbikes, taxis, and vans idled where they stood. Market stalls that depended on refrigeration closed early. Hospitals began counting fuel reserves. 

What appeared to Mali residents as an everyday shortage was, in fact, the result of a deliberate, sustained campaign by Jama’at Nusrat al-Islam wal-Muslimin, known as JNIM, an Al-Qaeda affiliate operating in the Sahel, to choke the flow of fuel into the country. The group has moved beyond hit-and-run attacks to economic warfare, burning tankers, ambushing convoys, and enforcing a de facto embargo on fuel imports.

Videos shared online after the Oct. 21 attack showed dozens of burning tankers in Zégoua, near the border with Côte d’Ivoire. JNIM later released a propaganda message claiming responsibility for ambushing 37 vehicles that day.

The first publicly reported attacks began in early September, when the group blocked routes to Kayes and Nioro du Sahel in western Mali, bordering Mauritania and Senegal. That same day, Sept. 3, JNIM reportedly abducted six fuel tanker drivers from Senegal.

Despite an increased military presence, the jihadists struck again on Sept. 13 and 14, torching over 40 tankers under military escort while transporting from Senegal to Mali along the Diédiéni–Kolokani corridor. 

The consequences have rippled far beyond queues at fuel stations. There is currently a sharp inflation that has affected commercial activities. Mines operations have also slowed, and there is a steady erosion of the state’s control over basic life. Across the country, schools have also been closed, further disrupting daily life and cutting several young people off from education.

The residents of Mali expressed their grievances, urging the military junta led by Assimi Goita to step up the fight and counter the group’s atrocities.

JNIM has also sought to control the narrative. In a video released in early September, a spokesperson justified the blockade as retaliation against what he called “the bandit government’s persecution of the population” and “the closure of gas stations”.

This rhetoric points to a deeper cause. Mali’s government recently banned the sale of fuel outside official stations, a measure meant to disrupt the jihadists’ supply chains. 

Blockades and ambushes 

Mali is a landlocked country in West Africa, and it imports most of its fuel by road from Senegal and Côte d’Ivoire. Convoys, sometimes more than 100 tankers, travel through routes to Bamako, and that includes passing through jihadist-controlled areas. 

JNIM have staged checkpoints on key routes where they conduct their attacks by igniting the lead vehicles to create conflagrations. They have destroyed dozens of tankers, with a single ambush in mid-September affecting at least 40 tankers. Videos circulated online showed burning wrecks and stranded drivers. 

The attacks are designed to make transport by road both physically dangerous and economically untenable. As a result, many private companies have stopped sending fuel tankers; others now insist on military escorts, which often become targets in themselves, and neighbouring countries hesitate to transit fuel through overtly dangerous routes. 

Analysts note that by choking off fuel transport, JNIM aims to undermine public confidence in the junta’s competence, stir unrest, and increase its leverage in negotiating local control, taxation, or governance arrangements in contested areas. The approach aligns with Al-Qaeda’s long-standing strategy of exploiting social grievances and state fragility to entrench influence.

The group’s broader objective is to pressure Mali’s military government, which seized power in a coup five years ago, while expanding its own authority through informal taxation and control of smuggling routes. JNIM now holds sway over vast areas of Mali, particularly across the tri-border zone with Burkina Faso and Niger.

The economic shock 

Since the start of the attacks, Bamako and other urban centres have seen fuel queues stretch for hours and a surge in black-market operations, the very activity the government intended to stamp out in its recent ban.

One video posted on X on Oct. 23 captured the desperation: a long procession of cars trailing a fuel tanker to a station, hoping to secure a few litres.

The shortages have cascaded through every layer of the economy. Power supply has been hit as electricity utilities begin implementing emergency plans amid dwindling diesel reserves. For households dependent on private generators, costs have spiked overnight.

The price of goods transported by road has risen sharply in markets across Mali. Small traders who buy fresh produce daily for resale in Bamako say profits have evaporated. For ordinary families, higher transport costs translate directly into more expensive food.

Reports from the weeks following the convoy attacks documented widespread closures of petrol stations and soaring costs of travel and delivery. The military halted certain deliveries to mines over security concerns, and some tankers destined for large gold operations were stopped to avoid creating easy targets. 

For a country already weakened by years of conflict, coups, and economic instability, the fuel blockade has become a multiplier of hardship, a crisis that compounds every existing vulnerability.

Losing the grip 

At first glance, the scarcity hurts everyone, and JNIM gains leverage. 

By controlling or denying access to commodities, the group converts scarcity into political capital. In areas under its influence, it already collects taxes, fines, and “security levies” from traders. Smugglers who can move fuel through alternative routes find new profit, often paying bribes or cutting deals with armed groups to secure passage. 

Meanwhile, formal businesses tied to regulated supply chains and formal employment lose trust and capacity. Local elites who depend on state contracts feel the pinch. The junta, unable to guarantee basic services, faces a mounting legitimacy crisis. Analysts warn that such conditions hollow out institutions and entrench shadow economies, allowing parallel systems of governance to take root.

The government’s response has been uneven; part denial, part damage control. Initially, officials blamed the shortages on heavy rains delaying tanker arrivals. But when JNIM released its propaganda videos claiming responsibility, public outrage forced an acknowledgement of the crisis.

“The sellers should make things easy for the population; the hydrocarbon sellers should not raise the prices at this time of crisis,” said one resident in Bamako, interviewed by DW Africa, voicing his frustration over the difficulties of getting the fuel. 

The armed forces have since launched airstrikes, escorted convoys, and convened emergency committees to protect fuel shipments. Yet these measures have proven costly and largely ineffective.

Transitional Prime Minister Abdoulaye Maïga, who convened an interministerial crisis management committee, announced further steps, including price controls, new regional depots, and increased convoy protection, but they have done little to stem the attacks. Some local reports suggest negotiations or attempts at local truces in areas where the terrorists have influence, but negotiations are politically sensitive for a government that prizes a posture of strength.  

Complicating the situation further is the evolving role of foreign paramilitaries. The Wagner Group’s replacement by the so-called Africa Corps has yet to yield stability, and persistent accusations of human rights abuses risk undermining their counterterrorism efforts.

The longer the blockade continues, the sharper the choices before Mali’s leaders: concede territory and influence to armed groups, or escalate military operations that risk civilian casualties and further infrastructure damage. Either way, the cost of control grows heavier with each passing week.

Oct. 20 (UPI) — One month before the U.N. climate summit in Belém, Brazil, organizers face a serious accommodation shortage. The Amazonian city, which will temporarily serve as the nation’s capital during the event, lacks enough rooms for the thousands of visitors expected, threatening the participation of many delegations.

Amid a COP30 already marked by tensions over climate financing and carbon-reduction commitments, a new complication has emerged: hotel prices have soared, forcing Brazil’s government to organize cruise ships and makeshift lodging to meet demand.

The situation risks making COP30 one of the least inclusive in history, as many groups — including small nations, civil society organizations and media outlets — may lack the means to participate in one of the year’s most important climate meetings.

The 30th Conference of the Parties of the U.N. Framework Convention on Climate Change, or COP30, is to will bring together nearly 200 countries and dozens of organizations to negotiate actions to address the climate crisis.

The summit will take place in the heart of the Brazilian Amazon from Nov. 10 to 21, and aims to set new emission-reduction and climate-finance commitments through 2035 under the Paris Agreement.

It will be the first time the conference is held in the Amazon rainforest, a region vital to regulating the global climate.

The Brazilian government has pledged that no delegation will be left without lodging and has launched an official platform to coordinate reservations in hotels, private homes and vessels converted into floating hotels.

However, environmental groups and local media say prices remain out of reach for many delegations and that oversight is insufficient to prevent speculation. In some cases, rates have increased tenfold compared with previous years, even for modest accommodations.

The shortage of tourist infrastructure in Belém is also creating additional logistical challenges, including limited transportation, strained basic services and delays in key projects, such as the so-called “Leaders’ Village,” where heads of state will stay.

Diplomatic expectations for COP30 are especially high, as the summit will mark the start of a new cycle of climate commitments. Countries will be required to present updated proposals with targets extending through 2035.

However, the process is moving slowly and lacks ambition. Several major economies — including China, India and some G20 members — have yet to submit draft plans or have indicated they intend to maintain goals similar to those set in 2020, with few adjustments.

A preparatory ministerial meeting for COP30, held in Brasília last week, brought together representatives from more than 70 countries to coordinate positions and lay the groundwork for the summit.

During the sessions, ministers agreed that the conference should focus on the effective implementation of the Paris Agreement rather than issuing new political statements.

However, the meeting exposed persistent divisions on key issues, particularly climate financing. The draft of the so-called “Baku-Belém Roadmap,” which calls for mobilizing $1.3 trillion annually by 2035, drew criticism for lacking detail and verifiable mechanisms.

There were also disagreements over indicators to measure progress on adaptation and on the level of ambition for new national targets. The meeting kept dialogue open, but many core issues remain unresolved and will be the subject of direct negotiations in Belém under strong diplomatic pressure.

Palestinians in Gaza continue to suffer a harsh daily struggle to access food, water, and essential medical supplies one week into the ceasefire agreement as Israel heavily restricts the flow of aid into the war-devastated enclave, contravening the deal.

UNICEF spokesperson Tess Ingram told Al Jazeera that Palestinians in northern Gaza are in “desperate need” of food and water as thousands have returned to total destruction.

Speaking to Al Jazeera from the al-Mawasi area in the south of the Gaza Strip, Ingram said that in order to scale up humanitarian aid deliveries, multiple crossings into the enclave must be opened.

“The stakes are really high,” she said. “There are 28,000 children who were diagnosed with malnutrition in July and August alone, and thousands more since then. So, we need to make sure it’s not just food coming in, but malnutrition treatments, as well.”

While maintaining that humanitarian aid should never become political leverage, Ingram highlighted that assistance to Gaza has been severely constrained for two years, with United Nations agencies sidelined.

“This [ceasefire] is our opportunity to overcome all of that, to turn it right. That is why Israel has to open all of the border crossings now, and they have to let all of the aid into the Gaza Strip at scale alongside commercial goods,” she said.

Israel’s military aid agency COGAT on Thursday announced plans to coordinate with Egypt for reopening the Rafah crossing for civilian movement once preparations conclude. However, COGAT specified that Rafah would remain closed for aid deliveries, saying this wasn’t stipulated in the truce agreement. All humanitarian supplies must instead pass through Israeli security inspections at the Karem Abu Salem crossing, known to Israelis as Kerem Shalom.

With famine conditions already present in parts of Gaza, UN Under-Secretary-General Tom Fletcher indicated thousands of aid vehicles weekly are required to address the humanitarian crisis.

Despite some aid trucks entering Gaza on Wednesday, medical services remain severely limited and the majority of Gaza’s 2.2 million residents are now homeless. Ismail al-Thawabta, head of the Hamas-run Gaza media office, characterized recent aid deliveries as merely a “drop in the ocean”.

Israeli military operations have devastated much of the densely populated territory, with Gaza health authorities reporting nearly 68,000 Palestinian deaths.

Samer Abdeljaber, the World Food Programme’s regional director, stated the UN agency is utilising “every minute” of the ceasefire to intensify relief operations.

“We are scaling up to serve the needs of over 1.6 million people,” Abdeljaber said in a social media video, noting WFP’s plans to activate nearly 30 bakeries and 145 food distribution points.

“This is the moment to keep access open and make sure the aid keeps flowing,” he said.

Reservoirs of the dams supplying water to Tehran are currently at their lowest level in a century.

Iranian authorities have urged people to limit water consumption as the country grapples with severe shortages during an ongoing heatwave.

The national meteorological service said Iran is experiencing its hottest week of the year so far with temperatures exceeding 50 degrees Celsius (122 Fahrenheit) in some areas.

Government spokesperson Fatemeh Mohajerani announced in a post on X on Sunday that Tehran province would observe a public holiday on Wednesday because of the ongoing heatwave.

“In light of the continued extreme heat and the necessity of conserving water and electricity, Wednesday … has been declared a holiday in Tehran province,” she wrote.

Temperatures in Tehran reached 40C (104F) on Sunday with a further rise to 41C (106F) forecast for Monday, according to meteorological reports.

Impact of climate change

Water scarcity is a major issue in Iran, particularly in arid provinces in the country’s south, with shortages blamed on mismanagement and overexploitation of underground resources, as well as the growing impact of climate change.

Tehran city council chair Mehdi Chamran urged people to “conserve water to avoid drops in supplies”, according to the ISNA news agency.

Authorities across Iran have issued similar appeals in recent days, asking residents in several provinces to limit water usage.

Tehran’s provincial water management company called for usage to be reduced by “at least 20 percent” to help ease the shortages.

In a statement, it said “the reservoirs of the dams supplying water to Tehran are currently at their lowest level in a century”, following years of steady decline in rainfall.

Javan, a conservative newspaper, reported on Saturday that authorities reduced water supplies in parts of the capital in a bid to mitigate the crisis, resulting in “water outages lasting between 12 and 18 hours” in some areas.

Energy Minister Abbas Aliabadi apologised on Sunday for reduced water supplies, saying the move comes “to better manage resources”.

The specter of global food insecurity looms larger than ever, with 783 million people facing chronic hunger and 18 hunger hotspots—spanning Central America, Sub-Saharan Africa, and conflict zones like Sudan and Syria—teetering on the brink of famine. From a progressive perspective, acute food shortages are not merely logistical failures but symptoms of deep-seated inequities rooted in colonialism, neoliberal trade policies, and inadequate global governance. Diplomacy, when wielded with a commitment to justice and solidarity, can be a powerful tool to address these crises. By prioritizing multilateral cooperation, dismantling systemic barriers, and centering the needs of the Global South, progressive diplomacy can pave the way for sustainable solutions to food insecurity.

Hunger is not an isolated issue but a consequence of structural injustices. Decades of extractive economic policies, driven by wealthy nations and multinational corporations, have left low-income countries vulnerable to food crises. In Sub-Saharan Africa, for instance, reliance on cash-crop exports, often mandated by IMF and World Bank structural adjustment programs, has undermined local food sovereignty. Climate change, disproportionately caused by industrialized nations, exacerbates droughts and floods, devastating smallholder farmers who feed much of the world. Conflicts in regions like Sudan, where 12 million people are displaced, and Gaza, where 96% of the population faces acute food insecurity, are compounded by sanctions and blockades that restrict aid flows. These are interconnected crises requiring diplomacy that challenges power imbalances rather than perpetuating them.

Multinational efforts to improve the situation on the ground must prioritize multilateral frameworks to ensure food security is treated as a global public good. The United Nations, despite its imperfections, remains a critical platform for coordinating responses. The UN’s Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO) and World Food Programme (WFP) must lead efforts to scale up emergency food aid, but they require robust funding and political support. Diplomats must push for increased contributions to the WFP, which faces a $4.5 billion funding gap for its humanitarian operations. Wealthy nations, particularly G7 members, should commit to doubling their pledges, redirecting funds from military budgets to humanitarian aid—a move aligned with progressive values of prioritizing human welfare over militarism.

Moreover, diplomacy should reform global trade rules that disadvantage poorer nations. The World Trade Organization (WTO) must address subsidies that allow Western agribusiness to flood markets with cheap imports, undercutting local farmers. A well-planned diplomatic agenda would advocate for trade agreements that protect smallholder agriculture, promote agroecology, and ensure fair pricing for producers in the Global South. For example, negotiations at the WTO’s 2026 ministerial conference could prioritize exemptions for food security programs, allowing countries like India to maintain public stockholding for staple crops without facing punitive measures.

Conflict is a primary driver of acute food shortages, and progressive diplomacy must focus on peacebuilding to ensure aid reaches those in need. In Syria, where sanctions have crippled food and medical supply chains post-Assad, diplomats should negotiate humanitarian exemptions to facilitate aid delivery. The U.S. and EU, often quick to impose sanctions, must adopt a human-centered approach, prioritizing civilian access to food over geopolitical leverage. Similarly, in Sudan, where 25.6 million people face acute hunger, regional diplomacy through the African Union can mediate ceasefires and establish safe corridors for aid distribution. Diplomats should amplify the voices of local civil society, ensuring that peace processes are inclusive and address root causes like resource inequity.

Climate change, a crisis disproportionately affecting the Global South, demands diplomatic efforts rooted in justice. At COP30 in Brazil, diplomats must advocate for a $300 billion climate finance package, with a significant portion allocated to adaptation for smallholder farmers. This includes funding for drought-resistant crops, irrigation systems, and community-led seed banks. Wealthy nations, responsible for 80% of historical emissions, owe a moral and financial debt to vulnerable countries. Diplomacy should also push for technology transfers, enabling poorer nations to adopt sustainable farming practices without reliance on corporate-controlled inputs like genetically modified seeds.

A decisive diplomatic approach centers the agency of food-insecure regions. Initiatives like the African Continental Free Trade Area (AfCFTA) offer opportunities to strengthen regional food systems, reducing dependence on volatile global markets. Diplomats should support capacity-building programs that empower local farmers, particularly women, who produce up to 80% of food in some African nations. By facilitating South-South cooperation, such as knowledge-sharing between Latin American and African cooperatives, diplomacy can foster resilient, self-sufficient food systems.

Acute food shortages are a moral and political failure, but coordination among nations offers a path forward. By reforming global trade, prioritizing humanitarian exemptions in conflict zones, securing climate finance, and empowering the Global South, diplomats are able to address the root causes of hunger. This requires a rejection of failed policies that prioritize profit over people and a commitment to equity, solidarity, and systemic change. In 2025, the world cannot afford half-measures—diplomacy must be bold, inclusive, and unwavering in its pursuit of a hunger-free future.

Mastering control of the ever rising and falling rattan chinlone ball instils patience, a veteran of Myanmar’s traditional sport says.

“Once you get into playing the game, you forget everything,” 74-year-old Win Tint says.

“You concentrate only on your touch, and you concentrate only on your style.”

Chinlone, Myanmar’s national game, traces its roots back centuries. Described as a fusion of sport and art, it is often accompanied by music and typically sees men and women playing in distinct ways.

Teams of men form a circle, passing the ball among themselves using stylised movements of their feet, knees and heads in a game of “keepy-uppy” with a scoring system that remains inscrutable to outsiders.

Women, meanwhile, play solo in a fashion reminiscent of circus acts – kicking the ball tens of thousands of times per session while walking tightropes, spinning umbrellas and balancing on chairs placed atop beer bottles.

Participation has declined in recent years with the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, followed by the 2021 military coup and subsequent civil conflict.

Poverty is on the rise, and artisans face mounting challenges in sourcing materials to craft the balls.

Variants of the hands-free sport, colloquially known as caneball, are played widely across Southeast Asia.

In Thailand, Malaysia and Indonesia, participants use their feet and heads to send the ball over a net in the volleyball-style game “sepak takraw”.

In Laos, it is known as “kataw” while Filipinos play “sipa”, meaning kick.

In China, it is common to see people kicking weighted shuttlecocks in parks.

Myanmar’s version is believed to date back 1,500 years.

Evidence for its longevity is seen in a French archaeologist’s discovery of a replica silver chinlone ball at a pagoda built during the Pyu era, which stretched from 200 BC to 900 AD.

Originally, the sport was played as a casual pastime, a form of exercise and for royal amusement.

In 1953, however, the game was codified with formal rules and a scoring system, part of efforts to define Myanmar’s national culture after independence from Britain.

“No one else will preserve Myanmar’s traditional heritage unless the Myanmar people do it,” player Min Naing, 42, says.

Despite ongoing conflict, players continue to congregate beneath motorway flyovers, around street lamps dimmed by wartime blackouts and on purpose-made chinlone courts – often open-sided metal sheds with concrete floors.

“I worry about this sport disappearing,” master chinlone ball maker Pe Thein says while labouring in a sweltering workshop in Hinthada, 110km (68 miles) northwest of Yangon.

“That’s the reason we are passing it on through our handiwork.”

Seated cross-legged, men shave cane into strips, curve them with a hand crank and deftly weave them into melon-sized balls with pentagonal holes before boiling them in vats of water to enhance their durability.

“We check our chinlone’s quality as if we’re checking diamonds or gemstones,” the 64-year-old Pe Thein says.

“As we respect the chinlone, it respects us back.”

Each ball takes about two hours to produce and brings business-owner Maung Kaw $2.40.

But supplies of the premium rattan he seeks from Rakhine state in western Myanmar are becoming scarce.

Fierce fighting between military forces and opposition groups that now control nearly all of the state has made supplies precarious.

Farmers are too frightened to venture into the jungle battlegrounds to cut cane, Maung Kaw says, which jeopardises his livelihood.