Spiraling inflation pushes Zimbabwean civil servants into hidden street-vending side hustles to supplement shrinking salaries.

For Zimbabwean civil servant Dumisani Ngara, every workday is a delicate balancing act—a “cat and mouse game” between the professional dignity of his government office job and the secret necessity of street vending to survive.

Each morning, Ngara boards a free government bus to his office at the Ministry of National Housing in Harare, impeccably dressed in a suit. His monthly government salary of $250 is barely enough to sustain his family amid Zimbabwe’s relentless inflation, which surged to a staggering 300% in 2019, crippling salaries and purchasing power.

By evening, Ngara swiftly exchanges his suit for sweatpants and rushes to join his son at a makeshift street stall in Harare’s bustling central business district. There, hidden in plain sight, they sell groceries to supplement the family income. His wife runs a similar stall at home, selling fruit and vegetables.

Ngara’s story reveals the stark reality for thousands of Zimbabwe’s government workers, prohibited by law from holding second jobs yet forced into secret vending just to pay rent and put food on the table.

“Our salaries are pathetic,” he explains, echoing a sentiment shared widely among Zimbabwe’s civil servants. As inflation soars and government pay stagnates, moonlighting has become a matter of survival rather than choice.

Zimbabwe’s economy remains unstable, and for workers like Ngara, life has become an exhausting cycle of hiding their side hustles from the authorities while struggling to preserve their dignity amid growing desperation.

Johannesburg suburb becomes epicenter of migrant abuse as over 50 Somali and Ethiopian nationals escape horrifying detention.

More than 50 migrants—primarily teenagers and young adults from Somalia and Ethiopia—broke free from an alleged detention house in Lombardy East on Wednesday morning, fleeing into the streets amid cries for help, partially clothed, and clutching scraps of food.

South African Police responded after neighbors and community patrols reported the disturbing sight: migrants screaming and shattering windows to escape a house described by witnesses as “filthy and unlivable.” Inside, reporters found makeshift bedding, buckets used as toilets, and evidence of appalling living conditions—raising immediate suspicion of human trafficking or forced labour, although police currently label it a potential violation of the Immigration Act.

Adise Chuafmaa Jarse, a translator for the Ethiopian community, painted a horrifying picture: migrants beaten, starved, and stripped of dignity under false promises of employment. “No food and no clothes,” she recounted. “Sometimes people die—they must throw away.”

Police spokesperson Colonel Kaha said statements are still being collected from the 32 to 34 migrants currently in custody, including children as young as 13, but authorities have yet to confirm arrests. This troubling incident closely mirrors a similar January case in Lombardy East, highlighting an alarming trend that suggests the Johannesburg suburb is fast becoming a hub for migrant exploitation networks.

As investigations intensify, this latest escape underscores a darker reality: migrant exploitation and potential human trafficking in South Africa remains rampant, deeply rooted, and urgently in need of confrontation.

Tehran shrinks nuclear ‘breakout time’ dramatically as threat to regional security intensifies. 

U.S. Strategic Command head General Anthony Cotton has confirmed that Iran could enrich enough uranium for a nuclear weapon in less than one week—an alarming escalation from previous estimates of 10-15 days. This rapid shortening of the nuclear breakout timeline sharply increases the risk of nuclear proliferation in an already volatile Middle East, posing an existential threat to Israel and regional stability.

“Iran continues expanding its nuclear program, dramatically accelerating its ability to produce weapons-grade uranium,” Gen. Cotton declared to the Senate Armed Services Committee. He specifically emphasized Tehran’s aggressive deployment of advanced centrifuges and growing stockpile of uranium enriched up to 60% purity, just short of weapons-grade at 90%. According to the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA), Iran already possesses sufficient quantities of this material to potentially build six nuclear weapons if further enriched—a process now alarmingly achievable within days.

Despite Tehran’s repeated insistence that its nuclear ambitions are peaceful, mounting evidence suggests otherwise. Reports of covert Iranian attempts to obtain technology and components essential for the critical weaponization phase—where uranium is assembled into deliverable warheads—continue to raise global alarms. Recent Israeli strikes on a secretive facility at Parchin underscore ongoing concerns over clandestine weaponization activities.

Gen. Cotton further highlighted Iran’s aggressive missile program, citing its possession of the region’s largest ballistic missile arsenal, some of which were deployed in recent attacks targeting Israel. These missiles, coupled with Tehran’s expansive proxy network across Syria, Lebanon, Yemen, and Gaza, amplify the Iranian threat far beyond nuclear capabilities alone, directly jeopardizing U.S. forces, Israeli security, and broader regional stability.

Western skepticism persists regarding Tehran’s public denials of weaponization ambitions, especially as Iranian officials increasingly hint at potential military nuclear capability in response to perceived threats. As the nuclear breakout window narrows dangerously close to zero, the urgency of decisive international action escalates dramatically.

Israel, long vocal about the existential threat posed by a nuclear-armed Iran, remains vigilant and prepared to act preemptively. With Tehran on the verge of nuclear capability, the region could quickly spiral into an unprecedented confrontation—one that Israel, backed by its powerful military might, stands ready to decisively address.

Time, however, is running out. Iran’s nuclear countdown, now measured in mere days, demands immediate attention—before it becomes too late.

Ugandan finance officer accuses SafeLane Global of racism, abandonment, and unlawful dismissal after surviving terror attack.

A Ugandan finance officer abandoned in Somalia after surviving a terrorist attack is suing the UK-based security giant SafeLane Global for $15 million, alleging racial discrimination, unlawful dismissal, and deliberate neglect. Jacinta Kaahwa’s landmark legal battle exposes a disturbing narrative of exploitation faced by African professionals working for international contractors in high-risk zones.

Kaahwa, who worked for SafeLane in Mogadishu for six turbulent years, survived a devastating Al-Shabaab bombing near her workplace in March 2022, suffering lasting psychological trauma. She claims SafeLane violated its obligations by denying her critical mental health support, ultimately firing her without compensation or assistance—an abandonment that forced her to seek refuge at the Ugandan embassy amid ongoing threats in Somalia.

“It’s modern-day slavery,” says Kaahwa’s lawyer, Junaid Egale. “She was recruited in Uganda, deployed to Somalia, and discarded without support.”

SafeLane disputes direct employment, arguing she was subcontracted through ClearTech. However, documentation firmly links Kaahwa’s employment to SafeLane’s Uganda and Somalia operations under its UK parent, IGNE Group Ltd. Somali courts repeatedly ruled in her favor, ordering her reinstatement and compensation—yet SafeLane allegedly ignored the judgments through political lobbying and bureaucratic delays.

Kaahwa’s lawsuit now moves to the UK, spotlighting racial pay disparities: she claims her white South African replacement earned three times her salary, while her own requests for fair pay were dismissed under budgetary pretenses.

The case has triggered diplomatic and political ripples, attracting attention from Uganda’s Parliament, international unions, and UN Human Rights bodies. Beyond personal justice, Kaahwa’s fight symbolizes a larger battle against entrenched discrimination and exploitation faced by African workers employed by Western entities in conflict areas.

For Kaahwa, after years of struggle, abandoning the fight is not an option: “It’s been three years, but I still believe justice will come.”

This could become a watershed moment—sending a stark warning to firms profiting from vulnerable workers: accountability will catch up.

Israel-coordinated evacuations surge while rare anti-Hamas protests rock Gaza, shattering fear and exposing deep internal dissent.

A historic shift is unfolding in Gaza — and it’s not on the battlefield. As Israeli forces press deeper into Hamas-controlled zones, over 35,000 Gazans have voluntarily fled the strip under Israeli coordination, and a rare, swelling wave of public outrage is erupting against Hamas itself. The iron grip of the terror group is visibly weakening.

This week, hundreds of desperate Gazans—sick civilians, families, and dual citizens—have been flying out via Israel’s Ramon Airport and the Allenby Bridge, aided by Israeli security in full coordination with government directives. Nearly 2,000 have exited through Kerem Shalom alone. The UAE is receiving many of the evacuees, with more countries lined up. This exodus, unprecedented in scale, is accompanied by painfully simple demands from Gazans themselves: “Just get us out.”

But it’s not just flight—it’s revolt. For the first time since Hamas’ brutal seizure of Gaza in 2007, civilians in Beit Lahia, Beit Hanoun, and Gaza City are openly protesting the group’s rule. Chants like “Hamas out!” and “Our children’s blood is not cheap” echoed through neighborhoods where rockets were once launched toward Israel. Hamas tried to crush the protests—and failed.

The protestors blame Hamas for triggering the war with indiscriminate rocket fire and hiding military infrastructure in civilian areas. The long-standing climate of fear is cracking. From Shijaiyah to Khan Younis, new protests are planned—even in Hamas strongholds.

Prime Minister Netanyahu confirmed what the terror group fears most: “The protests show that our policy is working.”

These protests aren’t just symbolic—they’re a collapse of Hamas’ psychological control. With Israel surgically striking terror targets while enabling civilian exits, the message is sharp: The walls are closing in on Hamas from within and without.

Gaza’s people are speaking. Loudly. And for the first time in years, they’re not shouting at Israel—they’re shouting at their oppressors.

Over 14,000 Tons Harvested Daily as Ethiopia Turns the Grand Renaissance Dam into a Fisheries Powerhouse.

While the world debates the geopolitical storm swirling around the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam (GERD), something big is happening beneath the surface—literally. Ethiopia is quietly unleashing a blue revolution, harvesting more than 14,500 tons of fish every single day from the dam’s vast waters. It’s a game-changer not just for food security, but for the country’s economic trajectory.

The Ministry of Agriculture now considers GERD a flagship for fisheries transformation. Once seen solely as a hydropower project and regional flashpoint, the dam is now producing in-demand species like Nile Perch and Korosso in volumes that could eclipse long-established fisheries zones. The boom is not only meeting skyrocketing domestic demand but also offering a rare opportunity for Ethiopia to reduce food imports and increase regional supply dominance.

This isn’t just a harvest—it’s a strategy. Ethiopia is distributing fish fingerlings, opening up untapped water bodies, and launching awareness campaigns to boost productivity. The numbers are beginning to match the ambition. Over 1,600 youth have been organized into 64 fishing associations, with nearly half already operational. Jobs, income, and local investment are rising, particularly in Benishangul-Gumuz—once a peripheral region now central to a national economic pivot.

Experts call this one of the most overlooked but significant developments tied to the GERD. And it’s not just about fish. It’s about sovereignty, resource control, and turning water into wealth.

With the world fixated on the politics of GERD’s water flow, Ethiopia may have just found a powerful counter-narrative—feeding its people and fueling its economy, one ton of fish at a time.

The resurgence of the South African anti-apartheid struggle song “Dubul’ ibhunu” (“Kill the Boer”) has triggered a global political controversy, after Elon Musk tweeted his alarm about what he called a “white genocide” being promoted at a political rally by Julius Malema’s Economic Freedom Fighters (EFF). U.S. President Donald Trump amplified the message, and Secretary of State Marco Rubio escalated it further, turning a decades-old liberation chant into a diplomatic flashpoint.

But is this song truly a call for genocide? Or is it being leveraged for political gain in a broader ideological battle?

A Song from the Struggle

“Dubul’ ibhunu” emerged in the 1980s at the height of South Africa’s anti-apartheid struggle. It is a toyi-toyi chant with a simple refrain: “shoot the Boer,” with Boer being a term historically used to refer to white Afrikaner farmers, but also more broadly associated with apartheid oppression. The song, critics argue, incites violence. Supporters say it is a symbolic expression of resistance.

Julius Malema has made the song a centerpiece of EFF rallies, using it to project revolutionary authenticity. In Malema’s political branding, it represents a rejection of post-apartheid compromises and a push for radical economic transformation.

Legal and Cultural Debate

South African courts have wrestled with whether the song constitutes hate speech. After initial rulings against Malema, more recent judgments, including by the Supreme Court of Appeals in 2024, found the song does not incite real-world violence against white South Africans, but serves a symbolic political function. The court emphasized the importance of historical context, asserting that the song must be understood as part of South Africa’s liberation legacy.

The Musk-Trump-Rubio Reaction

For Musk, Trump, and Rubio, the song has become a rallying cry in the fight against what they frame as the excesses of progressive racial politics. Rubio even extended an invitation to Afrikaners to immigrate to the U.S., suggesting they are under threat in South Africa.

However, statistical data does not support claims of a genocide. South Africa experiences high overall levels of violent crime, but the number of white farmers killed annually is a fraction of the broader national homicide rate. Afrikaner rights group AfriForum itself acknowledges this, even as it campaigns for more protections for white minorities.

Why Now?

The timing is politically loaded. South Africa’s 2024 election resulted in the ANC losing its majority for the first time, and Malema’s EFF has gained ground. Globally, the far-right is using South Africa as an example of what they claim are the failures of racial reconciliation and affirmative governance policies.

For Trump, this issue fits squarely within his 2025 campaign themes: anti-DEI sentiment, migration politics, and the framing of “white persecution” abroad as a warning for the U.S. For Musk, who often wades into cultural flashpoints, it is a matter of both personal origin and ideological positioning.

A Battle of Symbols

“Kill the Boer” has become more than a song. It’s now a proxy in a global debate over race, memory, and power. For South Africans, it remains entangled in a raw historical legacy. For Americans, it’s being weaponized in partisan cultural battles. The danger lies not in the lyrics themselves, but in how political actors on all sides exploit them.

What remains essential is clarity: protest chants are not policies. Historical symbols should not be mistaken for current threats. And rhetorical outrage should not replace the hard work of justice, reconciliation, and truth.

Wednesday’s armed assault on Bosaso’s central police station — an apparent attempt by militants to seize weapons held by Puntland security forces — is the latest flashpoint in a region now grappling with a rapidly deteriorating security environment.

The boldness of the attack is striking. Carried out in broad daylight while Puntland President Said Deni was in town, it sends a direct message: even the seat of regional authority isn’t immune from insurgent reach.

Local security sources confirmed that one militant was killed and others repelled, with reinforcements swiftly deployed to secure the area. Still, the incident raises troubling questions about how deeply insurgent cells — or opportunistic criminal groups — have embedded themselves within Bosaso and the broader Bari region.

Pattern of Escalation

This assault follows a separate clash earlier this week in Garowe, where a controversial security sweep targeting PSF personnel ended in the deaths of three soldiers and the wounding of several others, including Garowe’s airport commander.

That operation — reportedly triggered by intelligence that PSF-aligned fighters were moving a hijacked civilian bus — has further complicated the relationship between Puntland’s regular security units and the semi-autonomous PSF force, long a source of internal political tension.

What Comes Next?

For President Deni, the timing could not be worse. As Puntland approaches a sensitive political juncture — with questions still looming over constitutional reforms and relations with Mogadishu — rising violence risks dragging the administration into a broader crisis of legitimacy.

While reinforcements have been dispatched to Bosaso and local patrols increased, the attack may embolden other cells or factions looking to exploit perceived weaknesses.

The question now is whether Puntland’s security response will move beyond reactive deployments to a broader, coordinated strategy that addresses the fragmentation within its security apparatus — and the underlying grievances fueling the violence.

For now, one thing is clear: the attackers may have failed to take the weapons, but their message was received loud and clear.