As dusk settles on the Gulf of Aden, the ghostly figures of hundreds of migrants start populating the streets of Bosaso in search of a place to sleep before embarking on a hellish boat crossing to Yemen.
Innocuous looking shops in this Somali port are often just a front for a thriving smuggling business, as the Horn of Africa - mired in poverty and conflict - keeps regurgitating ever more asylum seekers.
The desolate seaside town of Bosaso is the economic capital of Puntland, an autonomous self-declared state which lies on the jutting tip of the Somali peninsula, facing Yemen.
The kinder weather prevailing in the Gulf of Aden in August and September heralds the influx of thousands ready to test their luck and undertake the perilous sea journey out of Africa.
But even if the waves and gales spare them, health conditions and torture on the dhows often decimate the smugglers' human cargo, which eventually washes up, dead or alive, on the shores of Yemen.
"It's easy to contact the smugglers," says Mohamed Ahmed Oumar, a 19-year-old Ethiopian who made large segments of the harrowing journey from Ethiopia's Amhara region on foot.
He reached Saudi Arabia in 2006 and spent 11 months there before being deported, but even a second brush with death could not dissuade him from attempting the crossing again.
While many of the migrants trickling into Bosaso every day yearn for better-paid jobs, a large proportion are also fleeing conflict zones or persecution in their home countries.
According to the UN High Commissioner for Refugees, at least 26,000 people crossed the Gulf of Aden illegally in 2006. No fewer than 3,000 arrived in Bosaso from Ethiopia this summer.
While most of the migrants are from Eritrea, Somalia and Ethiopia, the Danish Refugee Council (DRC) for the first time in 2007 reported the presence of Kenyans, Ugandans and Tanzanians among the candidates for immigration.
Most of them are men in their twenties, trying to survive in Bosaso, an arid town where temperatures often soar above 40°C.
In the scalding afternoon sun, dozens of Eritreans and Ethiopians can be seen aimlessly roaming the streets, half hiding from Puntland policemen who are not really hunting them down.
Once they have reached an agreement with a dhow owner, the migrants are brought into a form of modern-day slavery.
"They are like captives, they are forced to live, eat, sleep in the place where the owner will take them," says Santiago Perez Crespo, DRC program manager in Bosaso. "Their situation is absolutely outrageous, terrible."
"Living conditions in the locations arranged by smugglers are very precarious. Migrants live in overcrowded open compounds with no sanitation facilities, surrounded by garbage and highly exposed to both disease and abuse," DRC said in a recent report.
Once they reach the Puntland capital after an often perilous flight across war-ravaged desert regions of Eastern Africa, a long purgatory starts during which they have to earn their ticket out.
The migrants work on the harbor or in some of the markets to muster up a measly US$100, the common price asked by smugglers to be accepted onboard their ships.
Their illegal status is ignored by the authorities as they have become an integral part of the town's economic fabric.
The Somalis among them - mostly families fleeing the relentless cycle of violence in Mogadishu between the Ethiopian-backed government and an Islamist-led insurgency - find relatively more comfort in Bosaso.
Many are put up by relatives in some of the 19 impoverished camps that shelter an estimated 34,000 people in the area.
"There is an emergency situation in terms of nutrition," especially for children under the age of five, in these camps, says Javier Fernandez Espada from Medecins sans Frontieres (Doctors Without Borders).
In Boqolka Bush camp, Obah Abdi, a pretty 23-year-old woman from Mogadishu is still recovering from the grueling seven-day journey from the capital.
"I want to go anywhere, I don't want to be in Somalia any more," she says.
Fatuma Mohamud, 22, is in a similar situation.
"I was told that you can do everything in Bosaso and find a job. I was tired of seeing people injured and bleeding all the time," she says.
"I will never go back to Mogadishu. If I find enough money, I want to cross to Yemen."
For many people, Bilingual Nation 2030 begins and ends in the classroom. Since the policy was launched in 2018, the debate has centered on students, teachers and the pressure placed on schools. Yet the policy was never solely about English education. The government’s official plan also calls for bilingualization in Taiwan’s government services, laws and regulations, and living environment. The goal is to make Taiwan more inclusive and accessible to international enterprises and talent and better prepared for global economic and trade conditions. After eight years, that grand vision is due for a pulse check. RULES THAT CAN BE READ For Harper Chen (陳虹宇), an adviser
Traditionally, indigenous people in Taiwan’s mountains practice swidden cultivation, or “slash and burn” agriculture, a practice common in human history. According to a 2016 research article in the International Journal of Environmental Sustainability, among the Atayal people, this began with a search for suitable forested slopeland. The trees are burnt for fertilizer and the land cleared of stones. The stones and wood are then piled up to make fences, while both dead and standing trees are retained on the plot. The fences are used to grow climbing crops like squash and beans. The plot itself supports farming for three years.
The breakwater stretches out to sea from the sprawling Kaohsiung port in southern Taiwan. Normally, it’s crowded with massive tankers ferrying liquefied natural gas from Qatar to be stored in the bulbous white tanks that dot the shoreline. These are not normal times, though, and not a single shipment from Qatar has docked at the Yongan terminal since early March after the Strait of Hormuz was shuttered. The suspension has provided a realistic preview of a potential Chinese blockade, a move that would throttle an economy anchored by the world’s most advanced and power-hungry semiconductor industry. It is a stark reminder of
May 4 to May 10 It was once said that if you hadn’t performed at the Sapphire Grand Cabaret (藍寶石大歌廳), you couldn’t truly be considered a star. Taking the stage at the legendary Kaohsiung club was more than just a concert. Performers were expected to entertain in every sense, wearing outlandish or revealing costumes and staying quick on their feet as sharp-tongued, over-the-top hosts asked questions and delivered jokes that would be seen as vulgar, even offensive, by today’s standards. Opening in May 1967 during a period of strict political and social control, Sapphire offered a rare outlet for audiences in
RSS