We drove 8 hours from Semera to Berhale, through hot, dry dessert plains dotted with literally nothing to shards of volcanic remnants that stretched for a good 50km, one of the harshest and hottest terrains on earth. There wasn’t any greenery or anything in sight for hundreds of kilometres for that matter. Every now and again, we might find a handful of displaced families situated in the hottest part of Afar, where no other human would venture, let alone live. Hell seemed real when from a distance, when we finally think water is in reach, it was nothing but an optical illusion, a mirage! The closer we got to what looked like a water source, the further away it got from us.

It really couldn’t get any worse we thought when we arrived at a town called Afdera. The locals name this the gates to hell. Some say it’s hell on earth. Temperatures soared well above 45ºC in the month of July. Temperatures as high as 50ºC is normal where we stood in the Danakil Depression, -120 metres below sea level. Our faces scorched, our breaths struggled to form in this burning, thick air, where there were no air conditioning to sooth this soul breaking heat. Flies gathered and rose in swarms. Madly, locals actually pray for this heat as rain would wash out the salt plains that they work hard to upkeep, about the only revenue generator in the area.

The water shortage issue was evident when we arrived to men and women fighting for water at what looked like a water pump with a quickly diminishing source for life.

As we got closer to Abala, mounts of rocks popped out of the earth - stacked tall in the shape of a chimney somewhat, some with a sharp, highly visible plank of rock on top. These represented mass graves or single graves of those who were murdered and whose family seeked revenge. We drove through checkpoints, militia, federal government, local government alike, mainly manned by boys who looked very young. More remnants of blown up trucks, cars belonging to officials popped up as we approached Abala, the town before Berhale, all attacked by drones they say. All the major mechanical part of tyres all looted post explosion, torched houses and shop houses… it was a frightful mess.
We finally arrived in Berhale, a dry and hot town surrounded by the same unforgiving, infertile landscapes.