Dozens of men trudge on after abandoning their dream of exile. For several days, they walk to return home, defeated by one of the most dangerous migration routes in the world.
Emaciated and exhausted, some haven't eaten anything for a long time. Under the burning April sky, where we're talking about "winter," only a few withered acacia silhouettes offer a bit of respite from the heat.
Among them was Jemal Ibrahim Hassan. At 25, this former farmer had left Djibouti hoping to find work in the wealthy Gulf states. Like many others, he came from Ethiopia, a country marked by poverty and conflict. "We had nowhere to live in peace," he says.
His journey lasted fifteen days on foot, covering nearly 550 kilometers. With swollen feet and covered in blisters, he finally boarded an overcrowded boat. But the voyage came to an abrupt end: intercepted by the coast guard, he was placed in a detention center in Yemen. "There was nothing to eat. We stayed there for eight days before being sent back," he recounts. On the return journey, a storm nearly cost him his life. Today, he is walking again, but this time to return to Ethiopia.
Every year, tens of thousands of migrants take this "Eastern route". In 2025, more than 900 people lost their lives or went missing, according to the International Organization for Migration – a tragic record.
On board overcrowded boats
On some northern beaches, the sand is littered with discarded clothing and shoes. In Gehere, mass graves serve as a stark reminder of the violence of this route. "More than 200 bodies are buried here," explains a local official. Most of the migrants are Ethiopian, often having never seen the sea before this fatal crossing.
In the sweltering heat, which can reach 45°C, and amidst sandstorms, many get lost or collapse. "We find dozens of bodies every month," a source on the ground testifies. Despite the authorities' efforts, hundreds continue to arrive each day.
For some, the suffering becomes unbearable. Genet, a mother of four, fled poverty but was confronted with extreme brutality: "Those who no longer respect are abandoned. We were forced to move forward, beaten like soldiers." She finally chose to turn back, believing that her former life was worth more than this ordeal.
Others, however, persist. Muiaz, 19, continues on despite the fear and the stories of death. "I know the risks, but I have no other choice," he says. Caught between despair and hope, many continue their journey at the cost of all dangers.
