Sudan Refugees Face Cholera Outbreak with Nothing but Lemons for Medicine 

Sudanese residents gather to receive free meals in El-Fasher, a city besieged by Sudan's paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF) for more than a year, in Darfur region, on August 11, 2025. (AFP)
Sudanese residents gather to receive free meals in El-Fasher, a city besieged by Sudan's paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF) for more than a year, in Darfur region, on August 11, 2025. (AFP)
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Sudan Refugees Face Cholera Outbreak with Nothing but Lemons for Medicine 

Sudanese residents gather to receive free meals in El-Fasher, a city besieged by Sudan's paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF) for more than a year, in Darfur region, on August 11, 2025. (AFP)
Sudanese residents gather to receive free meals in El-Fasher, a city besieged by Sudan's paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF) for more than a year, in Darfur region, on August 11, 2025. (AFP)

In the cholera-stricken refugee camps of western Sudan, every second is infected by fear. Faster than a person can boil water over an open flame, the flies descend and everything is contaminated once more.

Cholera is ripping through the camps of Tawila in Darfur, where hundreds of thousands of people have been left with nothing but the water they can boil, to serve as both disinfectant and medicine.

"We mix lemon in the water when we have it and drink it as medicine," said Mona Ibrahim, who has been living for two months in a hastily-erected camp in Tawila.

"We have no other choice," she told AFP, seated on the bare ground.

Adam is one of nearly half a million people who sought shelter in and around Tawila, from the nearby besieged city of El-Fasher and the Zamzam displacement camp in April, following attacks by the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF), at war with Sudan's regular army since April 2023.

The first cholera cases in Tawila were detected in early June in the village of Tabit, about 25 kilometers south, said Sylvain Penicaud, a project coordinator for French charity Doctors Without Borders (MSF).

"After two weeks, we started identifying cases directly in Tawila, particularly in the town's displacement camps," he told AFP.

In the past month, more than 1,500 cases have been treated in Tawila alone, he said, while the UN's children agency says around 300 of the town's children have contracted the disease since April.

Across North Darfur state, more than 640,000 children under the age of five are at risk, according to UNICEF.

By July 30, there were 2,140 infections and at least 80 deaths across Darfur, UN figures show.

Cholera is a highly contagious bacterial infection that causes severe diarrhea and spreads through contaminated water and food.

Causing rapid dehydration, it can kill within hours if left untreated, yet it is preventable and usually easily treatable with oral rehydration solutions.

More severe cases require intravenous fluids and antibiotics.

Ibrahim Adam Mohamed Abdallah, UNICEF's executive director in Tawila, told AFP his team "advises people to wash their hands with soap, clean the blankets and tarps provided to them and how to use clean water".

But in the makeshift shelters of Tawila, patched together from thin branches, scraps of plastic and bundles of straw, even those meagre precautions are out of reach.

Insects cluster on every barely washed bowl, buzzing over the scraps of already meagre meals.

Haloum Ahmed, who has been suffering from severe diarrhea for three days, said "there are so many flies where we live".

Water is often fetched from nearby natural sources -- often contaminated -- or from one of the few remaining shallow, functional wells.

It "is extremely worrying," said MSF's Penicaud, but "those people have no (other) choice".

Sitting beside a heap of unwashed clothes on the dusty ground, Ibrahim said no one around "has any soap".

"We don't have toilets -- the children relieve themselves in the open," she added.

"We don't have food. We don't have pots. No blankets -- nothing at all," said Fatna Essa, another 50-year-old displaced woman in Tawila.

The UN has repeatedly warned of food insecurity in Tawila, where aid has trickled in, but nowhere near enough to feed the hundreds of thousands who go hungry.

Sudan's conflict, now in its third year, has killed tens of thousands and created the world's largest displacement and hunger crises, according to the United Nations.

In Tawila, health workers are trying to contain the cholera outbreak , but resources are stretched thin.

MSF has opened a 160-bed cholera treatment center in Tawila, with plans to expand to 200 beds.

A second unit has also been set up in Daba Nyra, one of the most severely affected camps. But both are already overwhelmed, said Penicaud.

Meanwhile, aid convoys remain largely paralyzed by the fighting and humanitarian access has nearly ground to a halt.

Armed groups, particularly the RSF, have blocked convoys from reaching those in need.

Meanwhile, the rainy season, which peaks this month, may bring floodwaters that further contaminate water supplies and worsen the crisis.

Any flooding could "heighten the threat of disease outbreaks", warned UN spokesman Stephane Dujarric.

The World Health Organization said last week that cholera "has swept across Sudan, with all states reporting outbreaks". It said nearly 100,000 cases had been reported across the country since July 2024.

UNICEF also reported over 2,408 deaths across 17 of Sudan's 18 states since August 2024.



Russia Shifts Tactics with Round-the-clock Attacks on Kyiv, Disrupting Daily Life

A resident Nataliia and her daughter Elia, 6, sit at a site of an apartment building damaged by a Russian missile strike, amid Russia's attack on Ukraine, in the town of Borispil, Ukraine September 1, 2026. REUTERS/Stringer
A resident Nataliia and her daughter Elia, 6, sit at a site of an apartment building damaged by a Russian missile strike, amid Russia's attack on Ukraine, in the town of Borispil, Ukraine September 1, 2026. REUTERS/Stringer
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Russia Shifts Tactics with Round-the-clock Attacks on Kyiv, Disrupting Daily Life

A resident Nataliia and her daughter Elia, 6, sit at a site of an apartment building damaged by a Russian missile strike, amid Russia's attack on Ukraine, in the town of Borispil, Ukraine September 1, 2026. REUTERS/Stringer
A resident Nataliia and her daughter Elia, 6, sit at a site of an apartment building damaged by a Russian missile strike, amid Russia's attack on Ukraine, in the town of Borispil, Ukraine September 1, 2026. REUTERS/Stringer

For much of the war, Russian drone and missile attacks in Kyiv followed a particular rhythm. They almost always came at night.

The warnings would begin on monitoring channels on Telegram in the late evening. They announced drones moving south, missiles being launched, air defenses working. Ukrainian civilians judged whether it was prudent to stay indoors or make for shelter in the metro based on the severity of the threat, The Associated Press said.

Now, Russia has changed tactics with the use of fast-flying, jet-powered drones, and the expectation that daylight brings a return to normal life has been shattered. Since last week, attacks have come day and night, compounding the terror of overnight strikes with the exhaustion of constant daytime disruption.

In Kyiv, the recurring wail of air-raid sirens has become part of daily life. It has interrupted commutes, shopping trips and children’s school, intruded on life’s biggest moments, from weddings to funerals, and, as these attacks always have, taken lives. The relentless alerts are exhausting residents, leaving some wondering how long they can stay.

Air raids are woven into the routine of daily life

An alert sounds. People look at their phones or up at the sky. Moments later, in the distance, the familiar sounds of air defenses intercepting drones resound.

Plumes of smoke can often be seen rising in the distance. Photos quickly spread across Telegram channels, showing where the destruction has occurred.

An hour or two later, another siren echoes.

In malls, banks and other businesses, air-raid protocols require customers and staff to leave when an alert sounds. A bank transaction can be interrupted midconversation; a shopping trip can become a cycle of entering a store, evacuating, returning and evacuating again.

Getting the shopping done has become a nightmare for Volodymyr Bovsunovskyi, who recounts a recent family trip to a mall to buy clothes for his nearly 4-year-old daughter. They had been inside for about 20 minutes when the alert sounded. They rushed out and saw smoke rising nearby.

They never got to purchase the clothes.

“A lot has changed in the last seven days,” he said. Like many residents, he hopes the attacks will relent. But, they have not yet, as Ukraine struggles to find an effective way to counter them.

Train journeys that would normally take a few hours have stretched much longer. In some cases, passengers have found themselves walking for hours through grassy fields after trains stopped on the tracks, carrying their belongings while one air-raid alert followed another.

The same uncertainty extends to getting around the city.

When GPS signals are disrupted to jam drones, using a taxi app becomes an absurd process. A car that appears to be nearby can suddenly appear to be on the other side of the world.

A pickup that seemed imminent suddenly shows an arrival time of thousands of minutes.

Life’s biggest moments are interrupted

One Kyiv couple went ahead with their wedding despite the sirens. On Wednesday morning, when Iryna Baranova, 38, returned home from hair and makeup to finish getting ready, explosions were sounding across the city.

“We heard two explosions, the alarm ended, we got together and went to the registration ceremony," she said, wearing a white satin gown with strands of pearls draped around her neck.

Afterward, she and Evhen Mytsyk walked hand in hand in a botanical garden in the city.

Mytsyk, 40, said the attacks did not diminish the day.

“If you wake up in the morning, you have to make the most of that day, because there might not be another chance," he said. "At a time like this, you appreciate life and the love of your family more, and you give love more openly yourself."

In the same garden, Tetyana Shevchenko meditated inside a small wooden gazebo modeled on a Buddhist prayer space. She has practiced for years, and she says it helps her remain calm even as air raids sound around her.

“When the air raids first started, we couldn’t stand the sound at all. It was very loud, disturbing, depressing," she said. "The body works in a way, it gets used to everything, including nighttime attacks, spending the night on the floor in the corridor, and insomnia.”

Meditation has also helped her stay calm as she navigates the tedium of bureaucracy, made even more difficult by the attacks.

Shevchenko has been trying to obtain documents to recover state funds owed to her mother, who died last year. While she waited in a long line for an appointment on a recent day, an air-raid alert sounded, causing her to miss her slot. She was sent to the back of the line and forced to start the process again.

“In this period of adjustments and grieving all of us are united, united in our suffering,” she said.

As she spoke, a siren blared. Moments later a thud was heard in the distance.

A week of relentless attacks has some considering leaving the city Ivan Datsiv, an IT worker, was in his apartment in Kyiv’s Podil district when a Russian drone tore through the floor on Tuesday, charring the ceilings and walls of his apartment and completely destroying the one next door.

Datsiv tries to joke about it, saying he had been meaning to repaint the walls anyway.

The alerts have become so frequent that he no longer sees the point of repeatedly going to a shelter. At this rate, he said, the only alternative would be to live in the basement.

“The alarms sound constantly,” he said. “You don’t even have time to go down and come back up. It’s just a waste of time running back and forth."

He is thinking of leaving Kyiv. “I’m thinking of living in another city, somewhere quiet and without this danger,” he said.

From the blown-out apartment next door, the view looks down onto a playground and basketball court where children are still playing.

Then a siren sounds again. Minutes later, the white zigzagging trail of an intercepted drone can be seen against the sky.

Bovsunovskyi is also considering leaving the city for a while, hoping to give his family — including his pregnant wife — a chance to rest.

The kindergarten his daughter attends must move the children to a shelter whenever an air-raid alert sounds. The alerts have become so frequent that he now simply picks her up halfway through the day.

“There is no stability,” he said.


Nothing Left: Nepal Flood Survivors Face Loss and Uncertainty

An aerial view shows houses standing amid debris during a helicopter flight from Nuwakot to Rasuwa following the deadly flash floods and mudslides in Nepal, September 3, 2026. (Reuters)
An aerial view shows houses standing amid debris during a helicopter flight from Nuwakot to Rasuwa following the deadly flash floods and mudslides in Nepal, September 3, 2026. (Reuters)
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Nothing Left: Nepal Flood Survivors Face Loss and Uncertainty

An aerial view shows houses standing amid debris during a helicopter flight from Nuwakot to Rasuwa following the deadly flash floods and mudslides in Nepal, September 3, 2026. (Reuters)
An aerial view shows houses standing amid debris during a helicopter flight from Nuwakot to Rasuwa following the deadly flash floods and mudslides in Nepal, September 3, 2026. (Reuters)

In Nepal's flood-ravaged Rasuwa district, Yangee Tamang grapples with grief and uncertainty, days after deadly torrents swept away entire villages, leaving a landscape of mud, rock and debris.

From a helicopter flying up the valley of destruction, the ground below resembles a puzzle with missing pieces. Entire sections of settlements have vanished.

Picturesque villages of green paddy fields and houses sit beside vast chunks of land washed away.

Tamang's house sits on a hillside in Syabrubesi in Rasuwa district, but the flood swept away the settlement below, where her relatives lived and markets were.

"It is all gone, nothing is left. No one is left," Tamang told AFP, after tracing the route of the August 26 destruction by air on Thursday, with roads below washed out.

Rescue teams in Nepal have recovered more than 1,250 bodies, and more than 5,000 are missing, after the gigantic wave triggered by a rock and ice avalanche roared down the China-Nepal border.

What were once busy villages, markets, green hillsides and winding roads in Rasuwa have been transformed into vast stretches of mud, broken rock and debris.

"It wasn't really water, it was gas-like, all black and it moved like boiling water," she said.

"It was all so sudden, it was not possible for anyone to run away."

- 'Hope has died' -

About 100 people are feared trapped in hydropower tunnels.

Tamang's husband is safe, but his workplace, the nearby Chilime Hydropower Project, which was smashed by the flood.

"I don't know what we will do. Nothing is left here for us to live," she said.

The river, still flowing brown, traces a path of destruction, and the enormous amount of debris has changed the shape and course of the waterways.

The floodwaters, carrying huge quantities of mud and rocks, rushed through river valleys with tremendous force.

In narrow gorges between the lush green hills, soil lies exposed where the flood stripped away trees and grass.

Roads that once connected remote communities have been washed away, while bridges lie destroyed or have completely disappeared.

Vehicles remain stranded on washed-out roads along hillsides.

Along the route, many surviving buildings are buried beneath thick layers of mud.

Some remain standing but are left empty, the people gone.

Risang Tamang, another resident, said for those left, the future is bleak.

"It is difficult -- roads are is such a state, so many bridges have been swept away. Now, even if you have money, there is nowhere to buy anything," he told AFP.

"Any hope that we can live here has died."


Ali al-Taher Ridge Emerges as Flashpoint in Israel-Hezbollah War

A photograph taken from the southern Lebanese area of Nabatieh shows smoke as it rises from the site of Israeli strikes that targeted the hilltops of the mountainous area of the strategic Ali al-Taher Ridge on August 14, 2026.  (Photo by AFP) /
A photograph taken from the southern Lebanese area of Nabatieh shows smoke as it rises from the site of Israeli strikes that targeted the hilltops of the mountainous area of the strategic Ali al-Taher Ridge on August 14, 2026. (Photo by AFP) /
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Ali al-Taher Ridge Emerges as Flashpoint in Israel-Hezbollah War

A photograph taken from the southern Lebanese area of Nabatieh shows smoke as it rises from the site of Israeli strikes that targeted the hilltops of the mountainous area of the strategic Ali al-Taher Ridge on August 14, 2026.  (Photo by AFP) /
A photograph taken from the southern Lebanese area of Nabatieh shows smoke as it rises from the site of Israeli strikes that targeted the hilltops of the mountainous area of the strategic Ali al-Taher Ridge on August 14, 2026. (Photo by AFP) /

The Ali al-Taher ridge in southern Lebanon, which is named after a Shi'ite Muslim scholar whose shrine sits at its summit, has become one of the most contested pieces of ground in the Israel-Hezbollah war.

The cluster of hills is not especially large. But what it overlooks in southern Lebanon — and what Hezbollah is suspected to have built beneath it — thrust it to the center of the fight between Israel and the Iran-backed militant group.

WHERE IS IT?

Located about 15 km (10 miles) from the Israeli border, the Ali al-Taher ridge has a commanding view of a broad sweep of southeastern Lebanon. Israel held it during a 22-year occupation of south Lebanon that ended in 2000.

After the current war erupted on March 2, Israeli troops pushed deep into southern Lebanon and seized key hilltops, including the historic Beaufort Castle on the ‌route to Ali al-Taher.

In ‌June, Israel's military described the ridge as one of its "primary operational focuses," ‌and ⁠included it in ⁠a map of an expanded, self-declared buffer zone where its troops are operating.

The ridge has effectively become a dividing point between a swathe of Lebanese territory occupied by Israeli troops to the south, and towns to the north that Israel's air force has bombed heavily, including Nabatieh.

WHY IS IT STRATEGIC?

Hezbollah is believed to have built an underground command center and weapons stores within the ridge itself, Lebanese security sources told Reuters in July. At 600 meters above sea level, it granted Hezbollah an advantage in launching short-range missiles and drones towards northern Israel, according to analysts.

Ali al-Taher also connects border areas ⁠in southern Lebanon to the hilly Iqlim al-Tuffah region further north, which has long ‌served as a key logistical and operational base for Hezbollah, the ‌Lebanese security sources said.

The Israeli air force has struck the ridge heavily in recent months.

In June, an Israeli military official, ‌speaking on the condition of anonymity, told Reuters that Hezbollah fighters were stuck underground without food or water. The ‌Times of Israel, citing a military probe, said on June 20 that one Israeli soldier was killed and 13 wounded during operations to capture a major underground Hezbollah facility beneath the ridge.

Hezbollah has said that Israel has sought to advance but that its fighters still had "full control over the area and are at complete readiness to confront any attempt by the enemy forces to ‌advance or infiltrate."

In July, the Israeli military said it would "not allow Hezbollah terrorists to emerge from the underground terrorist infrastructure and operate in the area or pose ⁠a threat" to Israeli soldiers.

WHAT ⁠IS THE POLITICAL SIGNIFICANCE?

Ali al-Taher lies near Zawtar Al Gharbiyeh, a town from which Israeli troops withdrew in July as part of a US-brokered roadmap that would see Israeli troops gradually withdraw from southern Lebanon as Lebanese troops disarm Hezbollah.

But with Hezbollah refusing to give up its weapons — and Israel saying it won't withdraw until the group disarms — that plan has ground to a halt.

As Israeli elections planned for October draw closer, capturing Ali al-Taher could be an attractive prize for Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu's government.

"Before the elections, Israel needs a big win in an area that has always been seen as a Hezbollah stronghold," said Andrea Tenenti, a strategic communications expert and former spokesperson for the UN force in Lebanon, UNIFIL.

Still, it may prefer a slow siege to avoid Israeli troop casualties, said Hassan Jouni, a Lebanese analyst and retired army general.

"Israel is hesitant to storm Ali al-Taher for fear of casualties, especially at this sensitive moment before elections," Jouni told Reuters.

The deadlock in Lebanon mirrors the wider Middle East standoff — negotiations between the United States and Iran remain stalled, with no breakthrough in sight.