Zambia is dealing with one of its worst cholera outbreaks in recent years as 351 people have died and nearly 9,000 active cases have been registered.
Climate change has fuelled heavy rains which have contaminated drinking water in overpopulated and impoverished urban areas, mostly in the capital Lusaka.
Health workers are scrambling to contain a crisis that has the potential to be the worst the country has seen since the first outbreak in 1977.
The sound of crying cuts through the humid air as soil is hastily dug out by a uniformed worker and flung to the side. Among the clutches of tall grass is a burial site with clustered and shallow individual allotments – only marginally better than a mass grave.
The screams of grief are coming from 16-year-old Catherine. Her grandmother Tamara Lungu’s coffin is in one of the new mounds in the soft ground. Tamara was the matriarch of the family at 84 – both Catherine’s guardian and under her care.
She died of cholera in Zambia‘s Heroes National Stadium on 10 January and the family was informed two days later.
Her other older grandchild Nable Nyirongo stands at her grave. It is marked with tree branches so that he and his cousins can find it among the many other fresh graves when they come back to place a signpost. They will not be allowed to have a funeral.
More on Zambia
Related Topics:
On top of the grief, there is palpable disappointment.
“There’s nothing we can do. At least they have to respect the bodies, I think they’re not giving us respect,” says 50-year-old Nable.
Advertisement
Beyond the graves, Heroes National Stadium can be seen in the distance. Nable was waiting there for days with worried relatives. He was in the front gardens of the stadium reeling from shock when we first met him.
“They told us that she is OK and we were transferred to the waiting room after. Now they are telling me that she’s dead. What is this? We are not happy with what is happening here,” he told us as he waited for his grandmother’s body to be placed in the coffin he purchased.
Other concerned relatives gather beyond the metal barriers of the stadium waiting for any news. A roll call of names is read out periodically to assure them that their infected loved ones are still alive.
One man is seething with anger and sitting on the edge of a dry storm water drain. He says his nephew’s name hasn’t been called out for days and all he wants to know is if he is dead or alive.
Next to him is 59-year-old Hamlet and his daughter Agnes. She says her ageing father has made five trips from out of town to check on her brother – his son.
They said they were taken in on Wednesday to see him and found him well. The next day, they went in to see him but couldn’t find him in any of the wards.
“We will feel better if they tell us whether he is dead or alive,” says Agnes. It is clear the lack of closure is beyond frustrating.
The health minister, Sylvia Masebo, is working on capacity and communication issues as the stadium increasingly becomes a focal treatment centre.
“When we started the first 48 hours it was a challenge. But we have stabilised now and have people who have been employed specifically just to deal with that issue of making sure that from six up to midnight they are looking at issues of families.”
We speak to the minister in the paediatric ward where infants as young as five months old are being treated for cholera.
There are buckets and IV drips by every bed. The floor is wet with bleach. Pained high-pitched cries ring out from corners of the room.
Many of these children come from the highly infected area of Kanyama and nearby districts.
Impoverished neighbourhoods full of flooded streets, shallow wells, pit latrines and open-air food stalls.
Mothers and guardians have been allowed in to sit at their bedsides on the orders of Ms Masebo.
The prohibition of funerals and family burials has remained in place. More emergency rules are being brought in by her ministry that will place health restrictions on public places like bars and open-air food markets.
I ask her how she predicts Zambians will respond to these measures.
“I think what is important is for us to do what needs to be done which we have not done as a country [for] many decades mainly because sometimes politicians we are scared to do what needs to be done, that which is right because you feel you will be unpopular.”
A body has been recovered from a South African mine after police cut off basic supplies in an effort to force around 4,000 illegal miners to resurface.
The body has emerged from the closed gold mine in the northwest town of Stilfontein a day after South Africa’s government said it would not help the illegal miners.
Around 20 people have surfaced from the mineshaft this week as police wait nearby to arrest all those appearing from underground.
It comes a day after a cabinet minister said the government was trying to “smoke them [the miners] out”.
The move is part of the police’s “Close the Hole” operation, whereby officers cut off supplies of food, water and other basic necessities to get those who have entered illegally to come out.
Local reports suggest the supply routes were cut off at the mine around two months ago, with relatives of the miners seen in the area as the stand-off continues.
A decomposed body was brought up on Thursday, with pathologists on the scene, police spokesperson Athlenda Mathe said.
It comes after South African cabinet minister Khumbudzo Ntshavheni told reporters on Wednesday that the government would not send any help to the illegal miners, known in the country as zama zamas, because they are involved in a criminal act.
“We are not sending help to criminals. We are going to smoke them out. They will come out. Criminals are not to be helped; criminals are to be prosecuted. We didn’t send them there,” Ms Ntshavheni said.
Advertisement
Senior police and defence officials are expected to visit the area on Friday to “reinforce the government’s commitment to bringing this operation to a safe and lawful conclusion”, according to a media advisory from the police.
In the last few weeks, over 1,000 miners have surfaced at various mines in South Africa’s North West province, where police have cut off supplies.
Many of the miners were reported to be weak, hungry and sickly after going for weeks without basic supplies.
Illegal mining remains common in South Africa’s old gold-mining areas, with miners going into closed shafts to dig for any possible remaining deposits.
The illegal miners are often from neighbouring countries, and police say the illegal operations involve larger syndicates that employ the miners.
Their presence in closed mines has also created problems with nearby communities, which complain that the illegal miners commit crimes ranging from robberies to rape.
Illegal mining groups are known to be heavily armed and disputes between rival groups sometimes result in fatal confrontations.
In the courtyard of a farmhouse now home to soldiers of the Ukrainian army’s 47th mechanised brigade, I’m introduced to a weary-looking unit by their commander Captain Oleksandr “Sasha” Shyrshyn.
We are about 10km from the border with Russia, and beyond it lies the Kursk region Ukraine invaded in the summer – and where this battalion is now fighting.
The 47th is a crack fighting assault unit.
They’ve been brought to this area from the fierce battles in the country’s eastern Donbas region to bolster Ukrainian forces already here.
Captain Shyrshyn explains that among the many shortages the military has to deal with, the lack of infantry is becoming a critical problem.
Sasha is just 30 years old, but he is worldly-wise. He used to run an organisation helping children in the country’s east before donning his uniform and going to war.
He is famous in Ukraine and is regarded as one of the country’s top field commanders, who isn’t afraid to express his views on the war and how it’s being waged.
His nom de guerre is ‘Genius’, a nickname given to him by his men.
‘Don’t worry, it’s not a minefield’
Sasha invited me to see one of the American Bradley fighting vehicles his unit uses.
We walk down a muddy lane before he says it’s best to go cross-country.
“We can go that way, don’t worry it’s not a minefield,” he jokes.
He leads us across a muddy field and into a forest where the vehicle is hidden from Russian surveillance drones that try to hunt both American vehicles and commanders.
Sasha shows me a picture of the house they had been staying in only days before – it was now completely destroyed after a missile strike.
Fortunately, neither he, nor any of his men, were there at the time.
“They target commanders,” he says with a smirk.
Follow Sky News on WhatsApp
Keep up with all the latest news from the UK and around the world by following Sky News
It takes me a moment or two to realise we are only a few steps away from the Bradley, dug in and well hidden beneath the trees.
Sasha tells me the Bradley is the finest vehicle he has ever used.
A vehicle so good, he says, it’s keeping the Ukrainian army going in the face of Russia’s overwhelming numbers of soldiers.
He explains: “Almost all our work on the battlefield is cooperation infantry with the Bradley. So we use it for evacuations, for moving people from one place to another, as well as for fire-covering.
“This vehicle is very safe and has very good characteristics.”
Billions of dollars in military aid has been given to Ukraine by the United States, and this vehicle is one of the most valuable assets the US has provided.
Ukraine is running low on men to fight, and the weaponry it has is not enough, especially if it can’t fire long-range missiles into Russia itself – which it is currently not allowed to do.
Sasha says: “We have a lack of weapons, we have a lack of artillery, we have a lack of infantry, and as the world doesn’t care about justice, and they don’t want to finish the war by our win, they are afraid of Russia.
“I’m sorry but they’re scared, they’re scared, and it’s not the right way.”
Like pretty much everyone in Ukraine, Sasha is waiting to see what the US election result will mean for his country.
He is sceptical about a deal with Russia.
“Our enemy only understands the language of power. And you cannot finish the war in 24 hours, or during the year without hard decisions, without a fight, so it’s impossible. It’s just talking without results,” he tells me.
Spreaker
This content is provided by Spreaker, which may be using cookies and other technologies.
To show you this content, we need your permission to use cookies.
You can use the buttons below to amend your preferences to enable Spreaker cookies or to allow those cookies just once.
You can change your settings at any time via the Privacy Options.
Unfortunately we have been unable to verify if you have consented to Spreaker cookies.
To view this content you can use the button below to allow Spreaker cookies for this session only.
These men expect the fierce battles inside Kursk to intensify in the coming days.
Indeed, alongside the main supply route into Kursk, workers are already building new defensive positions – unfurling miles of razor wire and digging bunkers for the Ukrainian army if it finds itself in retreat.
Sasha and his men are realistic about support fatigue from the outside world but will keep fighting to the last if they have to.
“I understand this is only our problem, it’s only our issue, and we have to fight this battle, like we have to defend ourselves, it’s our responsibility,” Sasha said.
But he points out everyone should realise just how critical this moment in time is.
“If we look at it widely, we have to understand that us losing will be not only our problem, but it will be for all the world.”
Stuart Ramsay reports from northeastern Ukraine with camera operator Toby Nash, and producers Dominique Van Heerden, Azad Safarov, and Nick Davenport.
The adverse weather could lead to total insured losses of more than €4bn (£3.33bn), according to credit rating agency Morningstar DBRS.
Much of the claims are expected to be covered by the Spanish government’s insurance pool, the agency said, but insurance premiums are likely to increase.