The hillside Jewish cemetery in northern Ethiopia was never supposed to get so big.
The thousands of Ethiopian Jews buried there had hoped to die in Israel, but steep and often insurmountable hurdles foiled their plans to immigrate.
"I hope Israel takes some responsibility before all of us die here," Sitotaw Alene, 49, told AFP during a recent visit to the cemetery in the city of Gondar where his sister is buried.
"We are falling like leaves," he added.
A recent operation between December and March, in which 2,000 Ethiopian Jews were flown to Israel, was a rare bit of good news for the community.
But it was a mere fraction of those who want to immigrate and there are no immediate plans to accommodate the rest.
Sitotaw is adamant Israeli authorities must move quickly, before it is too late for him and his community.
"What concerns me is this cemetery is almost full," he said. Before long "we won't even have a burial place for ourselves."
The bulk of Ethiopia's Jewish community moved to Israel in the 1980s and early 1990s.
Some were whisked over on secret flights from refugee camps in neighboring Sudan -- an audacious mission dramatized in the 2019 Netflix film "The Red Sea Diving Resort" -- while nearly 15,000 were involved in the 1991 airlift known as "Operation Solomon".
Those left behind are sometimes referred to as "Falash Mura", a derogatory term meaning "wanderers" that highlights their status as descendants of Jews who converted to Christianity -- many under duress -- in the 18th and 19th centuries.
They identify as Jewish today but are not recognized by rabbinical authorities and do not immigrate under the Law of Return guaranteeing Israeli citizenship to all Jews.
Instead their flights are organized under family reunification rules, and all claimants need to have a parent in Israel already.
Israeli authorities have been working off a waiting list of 8,000 prospective immigrants.
Ethiopian Jewish leaders, though, say the real number is much higher: more than 10,000 in Gondar alone and roughly 3,800 in the capital, Addis Ababa.
In Gondar, Ethiopian Jews live in cramped structures of packed earth and corrugated metal, surviving on remittances and what little they earn as cleaners and day laborers.
Life revolves around the Hatikvah Synagogue, which offers food packages for young children, free medical care and a library where students study Hebrew.
But while these services might suggest the community is settling in, its members remain set on leaving as soon as they can.
For those who end up making the move, life in Israel presents its own challenges.
Members of the 140,000-strong Ethiopian-Israeli community frequently decry racial discrimination and abuse by Israel's police.
Nigussie Alemu, who organizes programming at Hatikvah Synagogue, knows full well the struggles Ethiopians encounter in Israel, having worked there as a teacher.
He stressed that education can help Ethiopians overcome the inevitable "culture shock".
