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The ongoing conflict between Israel and Iran has led to a substantial increase in global fuel prices, affecting Americans and forcing them to make difficult trade-offs. Many are struggling to access essential items, including medication and groceries, while others are facing financial insecurity and even homelessness.The impact of rising gas prices is being felt across various aspects of life, from accessing essential medicines to facing the brink of homelessness amid an already rising cost of living. For Mandy, a 42-year-old mother in central Utah, higher gas prices have made it harder to visit one of her children, who has disabilities and lives hours away.“Before [Donald] Trump and [Israeli prime minister Benjamin] Netanyahu started their war, gas in my town was $2.70 a gallon. Now it’s $4.19 and I’m terrified it’s going to go closer to $5 before all is said and done. One of our children is disabled and lives in a group home two and a half hours away,” she said.Rising gas prices are also affecting people’s ability to access necessary medication. Lisa, a 56-year-old living with disabilities on a tribal reservation in Oregon, said rising gas prices had disrupted her ability to access necessary medication.“My caregiver and I have had to cut back our trips to pick up my prescriptions, even though they are necessary. Because I live in rural Oregon, the basic necessities are 40 minutes away, so if a doctor calls in an additional prescription after I’ve already been in town for the week, that prescription has to wait for the following week for me to pick it up,” she said.The strain is also being felt by food banks and pantries. Melissa Meyer, chief executive of IPM Food Pantry in Cincinnati, Ohio, said rising gas prices had driven more people to rely on food pantries – even as those same costs strain the operations of local food banks and their volunteers.“Increased gas prices put additional costs on our operations as we must increase gas costs for picking up and delivering food across five counties of south-west Ohio … We are not cutting back our services in any way, yet,” she said.The rising cost of fuel is also having indirect effects, such as impacting small businesses and artists. Cathi Newlin, a 63-year-old ceramic artist in Sacramento, California, who also cares for her husband with Parkinson’s disease, said her income had been hit as consumers pull back.“A substantial portion of our household income is generated from the sale of my art and the classes I teach. These are surely luxury items in any economy but when people have to spend more on basics like gasoline, they don’t have as much money or desire to spend on art. The rise in oil prices very much affects my income and the price of my materials,” Newlin said.

Sudan, one of the world's most impoverished countries, has been ravaged by a civil war that began in 2023. The conflict, driven by a power struggle between the army and the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF), has left the nation unrecognizable. Over 40,000 people have been killed, and about 14 million – a quarter of the population – have been forced to flee their homes. Civilian infrastructure across the country has been extensively damaged.“We are not just facing a crisis – we are witnessing the systematic erosion of a country’s future,” Luca Renda, the United Nations Development Programme’s (UNDP’s) resident representative in Sudan, told Al Jazeera. A report by the UNDP and the Institute for Security Studies highlights the scale of Sudan’s economic collapse. Even under the most optimistic scenario of peace being achieved in 2026, Sudan would still lose an estimated $18.8 billion in gross domestic product (GDP) by 2043.The war has had a devastating impact on Sudan's infrastructure and basic services. $6.4 billion was lost in GDP in 2023 alone, reflecting a simultaneous collapse across all major parts of Sudan’s economy. The destruction of infrastructure has triggered displacement and made it difficult for people to secure adequate housing or access basic services. Up to 40 percent of power generation capacity has been lost, and key water infrastructure has been destroyed or seized, cutting communities off from clean water and sanitation.The labor market has also been severely affected, with agriculture – once the backbone of Sudan’s economy – severely hit. Cultivated land has shrunk, adversely impacting rural livelihoods. Average incomes have fallen back to levels last seen in 1992. About 90 percent of manufacturing activity has been destroyed in key economic hubs, eliminating thousands of jobs.The oil industry has suffered significantly, with oil output falling amid widespread instability and infrastructure damage. The Khartoum refinery, which previously processed up to 100,000 barrels per day, has been out of operation since July 2023. Key infrastructure, including pipeline routes carrying crude to Port Sudan, has been hit.The collapse of the Sudanese pound and supply chains has caused a sharp rise in living costs. Food prices have surged, with four pieces of bread now costing about 1,000 pounds, an amount that had previously bought six pieces. Wages have failed to catch up with inflation, leaving many households without access to necessities. Nearly half the population is now experiencing acute food shortages.The economic collapse has had a profound impact on Sudan's people, with 34 million people in need of assistance and 19 million facing acute food shortages. The war has caused death, trauma, and profound loss, casting a long shadow over Sudan’s future and dimming the prospects of a generation whose lives are being shaped by violence. If the conflict continues to 2030, Sudan’s economy in 2043 would be about $34.5 billion smaller than it would have been without the war, and GDP per capita would drop by roughly $1,700.

Brian Cox steps behind the camera for the first time with Glenrothan, a sentimental comedy‑drama that paints a broad, colour‑rich portrait of family ties in rural Scotland. The screenplay, penned by David Ashton, follows the uneasy reunion of two brothers against the backdrop of a lucrative, family‑run whisky distillery.Cox portrays Sandy, the stern yet ailing chief of the distillery, a business that anchors the local economy. His sister‑in‑law Jess, played by Shirley Henderson, runs the operation with unflinching competence. Sandy’s younger brother Donal, embodied by Alan Cumming, has been living in Chicago, managing a blues bar with his daughter Amy. When the bar falters, Donal receives a plaintive invitation to return home, prompting a journey that includes his granddaughter Sasha.The film juxtaposes the gritty world of Chicago blues with the serene, panoramic vistas of the Scottish Highlands, delivering visual moments that are both expansive and intimate. Whisky expertise becomes a narrative thread as Sandy, aware of Donal’s superior palate, grapples with the future of the family business and the inevitable question of succession.Humorous touches—such as Donal’s disastrous attempt at making porridge and his nostalgic discovery of a bedroom frozen in time with Buzzcocks posters—lend the story a comforting, almost TV‑night feel without sacrificing depth.Glenrothan opens in UK cinemas on 17 April and reaches Australian screens on 25 June, offering audiences a gentle, well‑acted exploration of brotherly bonds, legacy, and the pull of home.

Spanish cyclist Jaume Guardeno continues to fight for his life in the intensive care unit (ICU) of Tauli Hospital in Sabadell, two weeks after a severe training accident. The 23-year-old rider from Spain was involved in a collision with a vehicle on March 31, which resulted in serious head injuries.Guardeno's condition remains critical but stable, with his team, Caja Rural-Seguros RGA, providing regular updates on his progress. He is under constant monitoring and is scheduled to undergo further medical procedures in the coming days to aid his recovery.The young cyclist had shown promise in the sport, finishing 14th in the Spanish Vuelta last year and 29th in the Volta a Catalunya just days before the accident. His team is set to make its Tour de France debut this year, highlighting Guardeno's potential.Cycling has seen a resurgence in popularity with riders like Tadej Pogacar, Mathieu van der Poel, and Wout van Aert, but the sport still carries significant risks. Recent incidents include Olympic champion Tom Pidcock pulling out of the Volta a Catalunya after a crash and Italian cyclist Debora Silvestri being hospitalized after a crash during the women's Milan-San Remo.

The chief executive of South East Water, David Hinton, has taken a significant step by forgoing his bonus for the 2025-2026 year. This decision comes in response to 'unacceptable outages' that affected thousands of customers in Kent and Sussex, leaving them without access to tap water.Hinton appeared before the environment, food and rural affairs select committee, where he acknowledged the serious impact of the outages on customers. He stated that he would only receive his £400,000 salary, foregoing an additional 'performance payment'. This move is seen as an act of penitence for the company's failures.The outages occurred in Tunbridge Wells in November and December, and again in January across Kent and Sussex. These incidents left customers unable to shower, bathe, or flush their toilets, causing widespread inconvenience. In one town, half of the customers were stockpiling bottled water in anticipation of future incidents.Hinton apologized to customers, stating: 'We recognise the serious impact this has had on our customers and know that we fell short of what is expected of us.' He also admitted that he had not communicated quickly enough during the outages, saying: 'I got it wrong and that's very much a lesson that we've learned into the playbook of how we handle future events.'The Drinking Water Inspectorate (DWI) reported that the outages were foreseeable, and Hinton agreed with this assessment. The company's executives faced criticism from MPs, with the Conservative MP Charlie Dewhirst expressing frustration over the lack of accountability.Despite the criticism, the board of South East Water has given its backing to Hinton and the executive team, with chair Chris Train stating that they are the 'right solution for delivering what is best for South East Water customers'. However, confidence in the company's ability to provide reliable water services has plummeted, with a survey suggesting that 54% of affected customers are now stockpiling bottled water, and nearly a fifth are exclusively drinking bottled water.

Zappa Montag walks through a 76‑hectare (189‑acre) forest of redwoods, madrones and oaks that he co‑manages with five other Black residents at Black to the Land in Boonville, California. Powered by solar panels and supplied by a well, the off‑grid ecovillage embodies Montag’s goal to “reverse‑gentrify the country” by creating a self‑sufficient sanctuary for Black people. Intentional communities—small groups united by shared values—have long served Black and Indigenous peoples, ranging from urban co‑housing to rural ecovillages. In the post‑slavery era, tightly knit Black networks relied on mutual aid for business and farming, a tradition that is resurfacing in places like Alabama, Massachusetts and California as a way to revive ancestral agricultural knowledge. Montag and his daughter Bibi Sarai first imagined Black to the Land in 2015, frustrated by the rapid gentrification of Oakland. After a 2021 introduction to the declining Emerald Earth Sanctuary in Mendocino County, the nonprofit transferred stewardship of the property to their group through a verbal and written agreement. Montag describes the hand‑over as a form of reparations—instead of cash, they invest time learning land stewardship. Tragedy struck in February 2023 when Bibi Sarai died unexpectedly. Yet, reports that visitors felt uplifted after summer stays convinced Montag to stay permanently, turning grief into a catalyst for the community’s growth. Today, the community—members ranging from their late 20s to mid‑50s—funds land maintenance through grants, workshops and fundraising. They host classes on building, gardening and foraging, while some members work remotely to cover personal expenses. African plant‑medicine practitioners prepare herbal remedies, and a partnership with Ghanaian ecovillage leaders introduces natural‑building techniques. In addition to cultivating vegetables, the residents construct clay dwellings, practice yoga, and collectively manage chores such as fire‑wood gathering and trench‑building to prevent driveway flooding. Self‑reliance is the guiding principle, especially amid today’s economic uncertainty. The BIPOC Intentional Community Council, founded in 2020, supports Black and brown groups in establishing similar settlements by providing funding, nonprofit‑formation workshops and land‑trust guidance. Board member Crystal Byrd Farmer notes a growing “back‑to‑the‑land” movement as people seek rural roots. While mainstream media sometimes label intentional communities as radical, Farmer argues they echo millennial human practices of mutual support. Most U.S. intentional communities remain majority‑white due to historic capital access, leaving people of color to feel culturally alienated in those spaces. In Alabama, the Ekvn‑Yefolecv ecovillage—run by Indigenous Maskoke families—reclaimed 3,105 hectares (7,674 acres) of ancestral land. Governed matriarchally, residents speak their language daily, practice traditional foraging, reintroduce buffalo and sturgeon, and share land title, offering a model of ecological sustainability and cultural preservation. Massachusetts hosts the Solidarity Arts & Education Decolonial Initiatives (SAEDi) collective, a communal home for women of color that blends art, food sovereignty and reparations work. Rent is adjusted to ability, and members contribute childcare, meals and chores. Plans include a garden, orchard, and a “green residency” program that will archive elders’ agricultural stories online, aiming to boost security for immigrant families amid rising xenophobia. The modern roots of Black intentional living trace back to 1969’s New Communities in Georgia, a civil‑rights‑era farming settlement that pioneered the nation’s first community land trust. Although federal opposition led to its collapse, a 2009 $12 million settlement acknowledged USDA discrimination. Today, the organization runs workshops on land stewardship and mentors new generations of Black farmers. For Montag, the land also serves as a personal memorial. A clay bench honors his late daughter Bibi Sarai, allowing him to “connect with humanity” and keep her spirit alive. Future plans include grief‑focused rituals and a memorial garden, underscoring the belief that joy and healing are essential components of communal living. Increased security and safety Marginalized groups view intentional communities as safe havens for preserving cultural practices and passing knowledge to youth. Elders’ expertise is documented for future generations, reinforcing resilience against systemic oppression. Empowering collective action From the civil‑rights farms of Georgia to contemporary ecovillages in California and Alabama, these settlements illustrate how shared land ownership, communal labor and cultural affirmation can counter gentrification, foster economic independence, and nurture intergenerational healing.

When wages have been stagnant for almost two decades and a simple tube of toothpaste now costs nearly £7 at a major supermarket, the claim that “money can’t buy happiness” feels increasingly dismissive. The argument rests on a narrow view of what money can achieve. Spending cash solely on material goods yields only short‑lived pleasure. In contrast, the ability to afford time, experiences and mental‑health support expands one’s sense of freedom and purpose. Even basic needs such as leisure have become commodified; more disposable income simply translates into more opportunities to pursue what matters. As someone diagnosed with ADHD, I have learned—through personal trial rather than formal neuroscience—how to secure a steady supply of dopamine. The cheapest route is not a quick thrill, but activities that provide lasting satisfaction, such as novel experiences and moments of awe. One vivid example came during a winter trip to rural France, where two feet of snow turned the landscape into a scene straight out of Narnia. The awe‑inspiring view was a reminder that nature’s restorative power is often accessible only to those who can afford the travel, in my case a budget flight with Ryanair. Research supports the intuition that higher income correlates with greater happiness. A 2023 study by psychologists at Princeton and the University of Pennsylvania found that people with higher earnings report higher life satisfaction, though money cannot resolve non‑financial sources of unhappiness. Even the world’s richest are not immune to the paradox. Earlier this year, Elon Musk—on track to become the first trillionaire—tweeted that anyone who says “money can’t buy happiness” must be missing something. While Musk’s wealth may not guarantee personal joy, the same resources could provide a foundation for happiness for billions facing financial strain. Nevertheless, hoarding wealth like a dragon does not equate to fulfillment. The column suggests that redirecting a portion of vast fortunes toward travel, cultural enrichment, and shared experiences could transform isolated wealth into collective well‑being. In short, financial stability reduces stress and broadens horizons. It allows individuals to invest in the intangible assets—time, relationships, awe‑inducing experiences—that truly enrich life.

The Caribbean and Latin America are facing a critical moment in their relationship with Cuba, as they succumb to US pressure to expel Cuban doctors. These medical professionals have been a lifeline for many in the region, providing essential healthcare services, particularly in rural and underserved areas. Cuban doctors have been a cornerstone of healthcare in the Caribbean and Latin America, with programs dating back 50 years. However, under pressure from the US, countries such as Guatemala, Honduras, Jamaica, the Bahamas, Antigua and Barbuda, Guyana, and St Vincent and the Grenadines have terminated these agreements. Only St Kitts and Nevis and Trinidad and Tobago have yet to follow. The US has branded these programs "forced labor" and "human trafficking" because the Cuban state retains a share of salaries. However, this ignores the fact that Cuban doctors are trained free of charge by the Cuban government, unlike their counterparts in countries like the UK, who often graduate with significant student debt. The consequences of expelling Cuban doctors are severe. Millions could lose basic healthcare, with Indigenous communities particularly exposed. The region's healthcare systems, already fragile, are being strained, and the poorest will pay the price in untreated illnesses, unattended births, and undiagnosed cancers. Cuba has built a global medical network of more than 50,000 professionals working across dozens of countries, generating billions in foreign revenue and sustaining its economy under embargo. However, US pressure is disrupting this model, and Cuban medical personnel are being withdrawn, cutting off one of the island's few reliable sources of income. The Caribbean and Latin America are complicit in this economic warfare against Cuba. Sanctions restrict trade, finance, fuel, and medicine, shrinking economies, deepening poverty, and punishing citizens rather than governments. In Cuba, the effects are stark: blackouts, shortages, and collapsing productivity. A notable exception is Barbados, whose Prime Minister Mia Mottley has defended Cuba's medical missions and rejected the insinuation of "trafficking." She has made it clear that Barbados will stand by what is right, even at the cost of US punishments, highlighting that sovereignty is not merely constitutional but also moral.

Britain’s recent reversal of the on‑shore wind ban, announced by Energy Secretary Ed Miliband, has set in motion a wave of proposals to install more than one hundred colossal turbines across the Cambrian Mountains of mid‑Wales. The Cambrians, a 500‑square‑mile stretch of moorland and high ground that remains the most extensive wilderness south of Scotland, could soon host turbines reaching 220–230 metres – roughly 50% taller than any existing on‑shore turbine in England and Wales and more than twice the height of Big Ben. Each turbine would sit on a 2,000‑tonne concrete foundation and require at least 100 tonnes of steel. The scheme also envisions over 200 km of new pylons to link the farms to the National Grid, alongside roads, repair bays and storage depots. Analysts note that the construction phase would generate a substantial carbon footprint, especially given the turbines’ relatively short operational life of 20–25 years. Environmental organisations, including the Wild Wales Trust and the Campaign for the Protection of Rural Wales, have rallied against the plans, warning that they would "degrade and industrialise huge areas of the uplands and valleys" and could encroach on Wales’s sole UNESCO biosphere reserve in the Dyfi valley. Local opposition is hampered by the region’s sparse population, but activists have been posting hand‑drawn notices on the Glaslyn uplands and highlighting the visual impact of proposed turbine clusters – for example, a hilltop site slated for 26 turbines that would dominate the skyline across the country, and a location dubbed “Artists Valley” that could be renamed after a row of 37 similar structures. Critics argue that Wales, which is moving toward renewable self‑sufficiency and already exports surplus power, does not need these installations for its own energy security. Instead, the turbines appear designed to feed the broader UK grid, echoing historic instances where Welsh resources were harnessed for the benefit of other regions, such as the 1960s water transfers to Liverpool. With the Cambrian Mountains lacking any national‑park protection – a status denied in the 1950s due to local farming opposition – the landscape remains vulnerable to large‑scale industrialisation. The proposed developments raise a fundamental question: should a politician’s ambition for renewable credentials outweigh the preservation of one of Britain’s most pristine natural areas?