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A MILLION SHILLINGS

AL-BAIDA, YEMEN- MAY 2007.Illuminated by torchlight, the dead body of a man is discovered in shallow water at Al-Baida Beach. Bloody marks around his face reveal that he had sustained a heavy beating prior to being thrown into the sea. One of a group of three hundred and sixty five migrants and refugees to have arrived in Yemen that night on two smugglers' boats launched from Somalia, survivors witnessed passengers being pummelled with rifle butts and knives as they protested at being dropped far from land. In the dark sea, many succumbed to the water, disorientated and unable to swim. By morning, a total of thirty-four bodies were found at Al-Baida; either drowned or killed at the hands of the smugglers. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

BOSASSO, SOMALIA- JANUARY 2007.Watching over a group of refugees at one of his network's safe houses hidden deep in Bossaso town's back streets, thirty-four year old Òbig fishÓ smuggler Omar lights a cigarette.Working at sea since he was a teenager, Omar spent years helping local fishermen to hunt down sharks for their fins but illegal commercial fishing put an end to the business. He involved himself instead in the arms trade, ferrying weapons to and from Yemen. War in Somalia provided him with new financial rewards however when Bossaso became the country's hub in human trafficking, as more and more people began to flee the brutal fighting while warlords tore the country apart.The financial rewards for him are the main draw. He now makes a minimum of $5000 per month ferrying migrants and refugees across the Gulf of Aden to Yemen; far in excess of the average income of just $100 a month in Somalia.Omar may be a big fish in Bossaso but he is just part of a bigger countrywide chain. His unnamed network has offices in Mogadishu, Belet Weyne and Galkayo in southern Somalia, and Burao on the Ethiopian border. ÒThese tahrib pay $20 to one of our offices before making their own way here- a receipt then guides them to me when they get here and I charge $50 to get them to Yemen but then the boat owners and agents take commission, and of course we have to pay off the authoritiesÓ.Omar is just one of eight key smugglers working in Bossaso linked to an international network of agents and traffickers. He shrugs off the violence and death perpetrated at the hands of his men. When he looks at the forty migrants in his charge waiting to board boats to Yemen that night he calls them Òblood moneyÓ. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

BIR ALI, YEMEN- MAY 2007.Having arrived in the middle of the night following a fifty-seven hour long voyage from Somalia, dawn breaks over a group of Ethiopian migrants and refugees at a sandy beach near Bir Ali on Yemen's southern coast. A pair of tiny fishing boats sailing close together brought a total of two hundred and fifty-three tahrib within sight of land but coming under fire from Yemeni soldiers, quickly turned around and headed back out into deep waters. Returning the following night for a second attempt at offloading their human cargo, smugglers demanded extra money from passengers if they wanted to be dropped close to shore. Despite being unable to swim, most were thrown overboard two kilometres out at sea as they protested. At least thirty passengers are estimated to have drowned. Only twenty-three of the bodies were ever found.Separated by nationality on arrival, the Somali refugees were first counted and taken away for processing at a nearby reception centre just a couple of hours after setting foot on the beach. The Ethiopians who remain behind have not been so lucky. Despite being severely traumatised and dehydrated, soldiers have detained the exhausted group, fearing that unlike the Somalis who have the automatic right to asylum, they might try to escape. It took fifteen hours before they were finally allowed to proceed to the centre and receive the water, food and medical attention they so badly needed. Most haven't eaten or had access to drinking water for a long time now, having spent days at beaches waiting to depart from Somalia. Others are just in a state of shock. Having been beaten and robbed by smugglers during the voyage, they must now proceed on their journey into Yemen knowing that their friends and relatives are unaccounted for. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

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SHIMBIRO, SOMALIA- NOVEMBER 2007.As a storm sets in during the night, a smuggler's boat becomes beached in rough seas at a remote cove on Somalia's horn. Summoned by bursts of live gunfire, migrants and refugees sleeping in the surrounding mountains are ordered by the armed gangs to help stabilise the stricken vessel that they are waiting to board. Using ropes, they work in chain gangs at gunpoint, pulling hard to tow the boat into fierce incoming waves in an attempt free it from the sands. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

DJIBOUTI, DJIBOUTI- MARCH 2008.Nine year old Kali Abduhi Omar stares at her reflection in the screen of a broken television set as she sits in a make-shift room in one of Djiboutiville's illicit doss houses.Following a mortar strike on her family's home in central Mogadishu, Kali and her younger brother have just arrived in Djibouti after spending weeks on the road in a bid to escape Somalia. Their exhausted mother curled up in the corner of the room is sick and scarred from bullet wounds she sustained in the attack. Four other Somali women and their children share the cramped space with Kali as they wait to hear news from a female contact about the smugglers who will help them continue their journey in their bid for asylum in Yemen. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

BOSASSO, SOMALIA- DECEMBER 2007.For this group of Somali and Ethiopian tahrib, the days of waiting nervously for their passage are long. There is little to do in the back alleys of Bossaso and the smugglers are keen that their human cargo don't stray too far. In the heat of the afternoon, a group sit around smoking water pipes and sharing bags of the narcotic qat that they chew and then wash down with 7-Up and green tea. Most sit close to their plastic bags of possessions- a spare T-shirt, a mobile phone, a shawl and maybe a radio and some cigarettes. They have brought little with them on their journeys.In less than two hours, station wagons will come and collect batches of ten passengers at a time. Transporting them to waiting trucks at the edge of one of the town's camps, where armed gangs will then escort them to the Horn's remote beaches. Here they will spend their last night at the tip of their home continent. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

BOSASSO, SOMALIA- DECEMBER 2007.Situated on the main Mogadishu Road, the colloquially named "Moqdishu Restaurant" is one of the first stopping off points for migrants and refugees heading north from the capital on their way across the Gulf of Aden to Yemen. Open late into the night, displaced teenage boys at the busy cafŽ dish up food and drink, while a clandestine smuggler's bureau and doss house to the rear facilitates new arrivals. .. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

AL-KHARAZ, YEMEN- APRIL 2008.Utterly exhausted, a group of Somali refugees crouch down beneath an illuminated signboard reading, ÒYou are welcome to UNHCR KharazÓ. Arriving close to Dhubab on Yemen's western coast in a smuggler's boat that has brought them across the Bab El-Mendib straights from Djibouti, the stranded group were spotted by military camped on a nearby beach. Transported by truck, the refugees have finally arrived at Yemen's only refugee camp in the early hours of the morning. As staff are alerted, they must sit and wait outside the main gates for now. Once morning comes, they will be called to an office and formerly registered one by one, their cases documented and their photographs taken. New sentance And then finally, they will be given official status as refugees. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

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MAYFA'AH, YEMEN- MAY 2008.Queuing along a wire fence, women form a long line as they wait to receive a cooked dinner ration of tea, rice and a little fish from a busy kitchen at the Mayfa'ah Reception Centre. Exhausted after their long journeys, over the coming two or three days in transit here, the temporary residents will receive cooked breakfasts, lunches and dinners as they recover their strength. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

DJIBOUTI, DJIBOUTI- MARCH 2008.Fast asleep on sheets of cardboard, twenty eight year old Abas Hassan Ulusow spends the night out in the open on the rooftop of the Hanwari Shop in the centre of Djiboutiville. After fighting in Mogadishu devastated his house, Abas fled Somalia with the dream of making it to Yemen and being able to support his family. Still holding out for funds from relatives with which to pay the smuggling gangs for the onward sea crossing, a week after he arrived here Abas is anxious to proceed with his journey but worried about the high prices being charged. Rumours are rife in town that the smuggler's middlemen are taking fares from the tahrib and then quickly disappearing without a trace. After chatting with new friends, he is now contemplating setting off to follow the dangerous overland route through Eritrea, Sudan and Libya that could eventually bring him to Europe. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

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BURUM, YEMEN- MAY 2008.Crouching under black volcanic cliffs in a rocky cove, it took more than four hours for this group of Somali refugees to be discovered after landing on a secluded beach in the dead of night. Escorted by authorities to a nearby police station at Burum, the new arrivals were then contained on the road outside until proper assistance arrived. Provided with a snack of milk and biscuits to sustain them, they were subsequently taken by truck to a UNHCR run reception centre.. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

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BOSASSO, SOMALIA- DECEMBER 2007.Having spent the last five days at sea and nearly three weeks travelling on the roads, Usmaan and Mahmud recover along with fellow survivors in the confines of a smuggler Omar's safe house in Bossaso town. Approaching a beach on Yemen's eastern coast in the dead of night, the tiny fishing boat in which they were in came under attack as Yemeni soldiers fired randomly into the dark sea. There were just eight survivors. Despite the captain being shot, the two remaining crew managed to turn the boat around and navigate their way back across the seas. Sailing with the captain's body and the five Tahrib who had remained on board, it took them three more days to make it back to Bossaso without drinking water or food.Usmaan and Mahmud are now ready to try again. They hope to spend a few days resting and has asked Omar to help them cross for a second time. There is no going back (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

BASATINE, YEMEN- MARCH 2008.Having just arrived in the slums of Aden, a young girl in a phone booth attempts to call relatives in Somalia to let them know she is safe. Her book contains contact details for her family and the numbers of smugglers in Yemen that she hopes will eventually take her to Saudi Arabia. Nearly all new arrivals carry these precious tiny address books with them, often still protected in plastic bags having been waterproofed for the boat journey. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

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FUWWA, YEMEN- MAY 2008.Soaking wet and covered in sand, groups of newly arrived Somali migrants huddle together on the beach at Fuwwah as they try to keep warm. Landing in the early hours of the morning after crossing the Gulf of Aden in tiny boats operated by smugglers, most are tired and disorientated after the dangerous two day voyage. One of three boatloads of migrants and refugees that left Somalia together, the group lost sight of the others as high waves almost overwhelmed them during a patch of bad weather. Assumed to have been lost at sea, one of the boats never arrived in Yemen. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

DJIBOUTI, DJIBOUTI- MARCH 2008.Covering their bodies with tattered blankets and veils, a group of thirty female refugees spend the night sleeping along the pavement in Djiboutiville's Rue Issa. Having fled the escalating fighting in Mogadishu, this group of women arrived in Djibouti just three days before.Record numbers crossing the porous border has lead to serious overcrowding in the city's slums. For these already vulnerable women, there are no shelters, no place of refuge at the mosques and nowhere to turn as the already impoverished city dwellers start to charge exorbitant rents that remain unaffordable to all but a few of the tahrib. Testament to this, females have been seen sleeping out in the open for the first time. Most have paid out what little money they have to bed their children down for the night in a place of safety; they don't have enough shillings spare to put themselves out of harm's way. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

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DJIBOUTI, DJIBOUTI- MARCH 2008.Lying in a row under sheets, childhood friends Ahmed Moalin, Mohamed Mousa and Sharmake Abdulahi thumb through their fake passports. Purchased for $50 each on the streets of Mogadishu, con men have simply filled in the stolen documents with the boy's details making their entries into Somaliland and Djibouti an easy affair. Coming from a country where few people have ever set eyes on official paperwork, the forged passports have become objects of fascination within the gang of tahrib. They won't need them to travel to Yemen on smuggler's boats but are hanging onto them just in case things go wrong; there has been plenty of chatter about overland routes to Europe and they think they could prove useful in the long run. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

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BASATINE, YEMEN- MARCH 2008.Back in the slums of Basatine, Mohamed returns late in the evening after a fruitless day spent walking Aden's streets in search of work. Having arrived in Yemen from Bossaso two months ago, Mohamed is just one of just eleven men to have survived a perilous journey across the Gulf of Aden. He is still traumatized, having witnessed one hundred of the other passengers on board the tiny boat drown as they capsized at sea. Escaping bloodshed in Mogadishu and then nearly being shot dead by smugglers on the beaches of Somalia, Mohamed cannot as yet even contemplate moving on with his life. He is doing his best to eke out a living but after what he has witnessed, he spends most of his time in a restless daze. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

BASATINE, YEMEN- MARCH 2008.Carrying his wordly possessions in a small backpack, a newly arrived "cowboy" makes his way from the dusty bus station as he takes his first steps in the slums of Basatine. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

BASATINE, YEMEN- MARCH 2008.Salima is nineteen and is wearing red lipstick but the clothes she has on are not her own. She doesn't like them and appears very bashful- or ÒshyingÓ as she puts it.Along the rubbish-strewn lanes of Basatine, her temporary home is a cramped, dark room in a safe house controlled by trafficking gangs. There are four such clandestine houses hidden in this shantytown, sending young Somali men and women on to Saudi Arabia, where they hope to find work and a better life. Having fled the ongoing violence the plagues their homeland, they are now free to stay with the human traffickers until they find the $25 that they need to be driven into the desert. Here it can take weeks here to save that kind of money.Salima has been going begging. Living the last three weeks in a daze, she returns from the city each evening to sleep on a threadbare mattress. If she is late, she passes out on the bare floor surrounded by twenty other women who share this makeshift room knocked together from thin plywood sheeting. Lately the rain has been seeping in. Far from home and without any other choice, this is all there is. She looks totally drained. The last six weeks of her life have been a nightmare.From a generation that has known nothing but war, Salima grew up in Mogadishu but despite the risks, she was determined to stay. Along with her baby boy Abdi Sallam and the husband she adored, the family stuck together in their little two-storey house. ÒIt was our home. My favourite place in the worldÓ. And besides, Salima was pregnant again.One morning, undeterred by the sound of gunfire in the distance, Salima popped out to buy some bread for the family's breakfast. A man walking ahead of her fell to the ground, hit by a stray bullet. Rushing over to the wounded stranger, the screech of a Hound rocket sent her crashing to the ground. Mortars had pierced the upper floor of her home. ÒI found my husband and child but they were not with us anymoreÓ. Both had been killed (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

BOSASSO, SOMALIA- DECEMBER 2007.Working for a people trafficking syndicate, a CB radio operator talks to truck drivers bringing migrants along the Mogadishu Road to Bossaso. Known as ÒRadio KabilaÓ after Congo's president, this Hawiye smuggling gang's Bossaso office is linked to a chain of others across south central Somalia.Sitting behind a fenced off desk, the operator slowly attends to a row of migrants and refugees that have been sitting on plastic chairs under a painted skull and cross-bones since early morning. On their way to Yemen, they are waiting for hawala money transfers to arrive from relatives; few have carried enough cash for their onward sea journey fearing robbery on the roads. Their families will have to visit a sister office to send the money and it cannot be paid out here until the operator receives a call on the radio. Once it comes, it is unlikely that it will ever leave Radio Kabila. Most will immediately pay the fare of a million shillings to the boss in order to secure their passage across the Gulf of Aden. For now though they must be patient, the agent is busy talking to middlemen as they coordinate a pick-up of the latest batch of human cargo due to arrive in town any moment. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

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LUHIBILA, YEMEN- MAY 2007.As the waters recede on the twenty-kilometre stretch of beach that runs either side of Luhibila, bodies buried by the tide are revealed under the sands.Testimonies from surviving migrants and refugees that arrived in the same group, tell of leaving Somalia in a group of three tiny fishing boats. Carrying over one hundred and twenty passengers each, one has been missing at sea for the last three days. Little hope can be held out now for survivors. Ten further corpses of young men and women were discovered later that evening washed up along the same stretch of coast. As the stiff bodies lay in a row with their open eyes turned to the sky, local fishermen covered their faces with the victim's own veils and macawiis as a mark of respect. Three dead Ethiopian women were left untouched. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

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SHIMBIRO, SOMALIA- NOVEMBER 2007.Standing in choppy shoulder deep water, Somali refugees look back anxiously from the sea as they try to locate friends and relatives left behind on Shimbiro Beach. Preparing to board one of three smuggler's boats that will depart simultaneously for Yemen, many of the passengers have become separated from those that they had hoped to make this high-risk journey with.As the crew hauls passengers from the water, each is already soaking wet as they step onboard. Before they even depart, the one hundred and twenty eight Somalis and Ethiopians tied down inside the tiny boat begin to shiver as strong winds blow in for the sea. Their fate is now sealed. Only eleven of the people who took this boat were to ever reach Yemen alive. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

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BOSASSO, SOMALIA- JANUARY 2007.Militia make their way in a pick-up truck along the rocky coastal road heading east from Bosasso. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

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BIR ALI, YEMEN- MAY 2007.Having paid a million shillings each, for these survivors on a beach near Bir Ali, the realisation of just what a gamble they have taken with their own destinies hits home. Weak and barely bale to move, hours after landing many still lie with their faces half buried in the sand, still coughing after having swallowed so much sea water. Many sit weeping, having spent the night looking for lost relatives, or simply in shock at the mortality that surrounds them. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

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AL-KHARAZ, YEMEN- APRIL 2008.Coming to Yemen when he was just a baby, fourteen year old Mohamed Noor had already lost one toe after being injured during a firefight in his home town of Kismayo in southern Somalia. Now along with his six siblings and widowed mother Asri, he lives in a graffiti covered room of an abandoned military building in Al-Kharaz camp. Without a father, Mohamed and his family are considered Òat riskÓ and are hoping to be re-settled to a third country; a process that could take years. Having spent almost his whole life growing up in the confines of refugee camps, Mohamed's only escape are his pet birds. He brings down from the roof to play with when he gets depressed. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

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HAMARAH, YEMEN- MAY 2008.Having just spent the last twenty-eight hours at sea on the crossing from Somalia, exhausted groups of men and women crouch on Hamarah Beach in the middle of the night. Hidden behind dunes in a pitch black deserted rocky cove on Yemen's southern coast, it took a further three hours before fishermen eventually located the refugees. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

MARERO, SOMALIA- NOVEMBER 2007.Armed with Kalashnikovs, boat crew and militia from smuggler Abdullah's gang make preparations for the departure of a doon that will leave that night packed full of human cargo. Sheltered behind rocks above Marero Beach, they stand amid the plastic bottles and debris discarded by the some of the thousands of tahrib that transit through here each year. While the migrants and refugees become anxious to depart as a cold evening wind blows in, the crew must first arrange for their supplies of cigarettes and qat to be brought from town. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

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SHIMBIRO, SOMALIA- NOVEMBER 2007.Women duck behind rocks as they run under a barrage of heavy gunfire in the mountains backing Shimbiro Beach. Waiting to depart on smuggler's boats across the Gulf of Aden, the already terrorised passengers are put in further danger by the drunk and well-armed boat crew. Having already openly executed three tahrib on the beach after they became too terrified to board a waiting doon, organisers are now insisting that others come back down from the cliffs. To the laughing smugglers, it is an exercise in control. The women eventually head back to the beach sheepishly; as the firing continues they have little choice but to obey the demands. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

BOSASSO, SOMALIA- DECEMBER 2007.For this group of Somali and Ethiopian tahrib, the days of waiting nervously for their passage are long. There is little to do in the back alleys of Bossaso and the smugglers are keen that their human cargo don't stray too far. In the heat of the afternoon, a group sit around smoking water pipes and sharing bags of the narcotic qat that they chew and then wash down with 7-Up and green tea. Most sit close to their plastic bags of possessions- a spare T-shirt, a mobile phone, a shawl and maybe a radio and some cigarettes. They have brought little with them on their journeys.In less than two hours, station wagons will come and collect batches of ten passengers at a time. Transporting them to waiting trucks at the edge of one of the town's camps, where armed gangs will then escort them to the Horn's remote beaches. Here they will spend their last night at the tip of their home continent. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

BOSASSO, SOMALIA- DECEMBER 2007.Having just arrived after weeks on the road from Mogadishu, twenty year old Kadra Abdi Shide rests on a mattress with her two severely malnourished children- Nasethah and Howha, as they recover in a Phase II ward of the MSF stabilisation centre. Coming to Bossaso with a group of five other young women, Kadra and her children were identified by outreach workers sheltering in the town's overrun Mingis Camp. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

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SHIMBIRO, SOMALIA- NOVEMBER 2007.As a storm sets in during the night, a smuggler's boat becomes beached in rough seas at a remote cove on Somalia's horn. Summoned by bursts of live gunfire, migrants and refugees sleeping in the surrounding mountains are ordered by the armed gangs to help stabilise the stricken vessel that they are waiting to board. Using ropes, they work in chain gangs at gunpoint, pulling hard to tow the boat into fierce incoming waves in an attempt free it from the sands. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

BIR ALI, YEMEN- MAY 2007.Having been washed ashore with the morning tide, a row of corpses line Al-Baida Beach at dawn. Hauled from the water by fellow voyagers, a total of thirty-four bodies were found at sunrise as they slowly drifted inland. Just one week after an almost identical tragedy saw thirty dead on a nearby beach, Somali smugglers continue to drop their human cargo out at sea without regard for life rather than coming close to shore and risking detection. Having paid a million shillings each, for the survivors that have now finally made it to Yemen, the realisation of just what a gamble they have taken with their own destinies hits home. Weak and barely able to move, hours after landing many still lie with their faces half buried in the sand, coughing after having swallowed so much sea water. Most sit weeping, having spent the night looking for lost relatives, or simply in shock at the mortality that surrounds them. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

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SANA'A, YEMEN- APRIL 2008.An old lady sits at the door of her friend Zahara Said's latest temporary home. Along with Zahara's three small children, they are sharing a tiny room of just two square metres at an overcrowded squat in a slum area of Sana'a popular with Somali refugees. With no support and unable to find legal employment, the women regularly go begging in the city in order to afford the rent on this damp space that was formerly a bathroom. Their previous home was a little better but was gutted by fire when Zahara left her children alone as she went out looks for zakat on the streets. She is just grateful that neighbours saved her clothes, blankets and pans, and although she has no choice, is more reluctant to go out alone now. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

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AL-KHARAZ, YEMEN- APRIL 2008.Dropped on Yemen's western shores by a wooden smuggler's boat originating in Djibouti, a small group young refugees arrive at Al-Kharaz after navigating their way through the desert. Walking the fifty kilometres from Dhubab, out of sight from the roads for fear they might be fleeced by bandits or soldiers, they have trekked overnight, reaching the camp in the heavy midday heat. Greeted by police at a small post located near the entrance, the exhausted, hungry group were invited to finish off the lunch of rice and fish that the officers had just tucked into. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

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ADEN, YEMEN- APRIL 2008.Having been transferred from a small bus, a group of Somali refugees are packed tightly into a waiting Landcruiser at a remote desert rendezvous. Inside the back of the vehicle, a dozen men must now spend the next ten hours sitting almost one on top of the other, while five women clad in Yemeni abayas occupy the passenger seats. Carrying nothing but plastic bottles and jerry cans of water, they are leaving with smugglers for Saudi Arabia.For the economic migrants, Saudi has always been their ultimate goal but thousands of refugees escaping war or persecution in Somalia and Ethiopia quickly become disillusioned with Yemen and join their ranks each year. Restricted in their ability to work legally and unprepared for the bitter life they find in this already poverty stricken country, they simply keep moving in search of their dream of a better future. With their former lives far behind them and having survived the journey this far, they have little left to lose.Costing just $25 to the Saudi border, the overland journey ahead is not an easy one. If they can reach the frontier without being captured, then a walk of more than twenty hours through blisteringly hot sands lies ahead. Many are said to disappear in the isolated dunes becoming disorientated or succumbing to exhaustion. If they do make it, then their prospects are little more than badly paid hard labour or enslaved work behind closed doors. Unlike in Yemen, they do not have the automatic right to asylum and the Saudi authorities regularly round up and imprison large groups. The bigger gamble is that they risk deportation back to the very place they started out from. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

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BASATINE, YEMEN- MARCH 2008.A photograph of a missing Somali woman put up by her brother has been on display in the restaurant for the last month. She is believed to have drowned. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

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BASATINE, YEMEN- MARCH 2008.Sitting in pain on a thin piece of foam after walking for a night and two days across the desert from Yemen's western coast, Ismael rests up in a halfway house hidden in Basatine's back alleys.He wrote, ÒI left Al-Kharaz refugee camp at 6 o'clock the day before yesterday. I could not stay there because I had nothing and above all I was not given the refugee paper because I was told I had to wait until Saturday, then I will be given the refugee paper. Now I have nothing that proves I am refugee and I have blisters in the soles of my feet due to the long walking on foot to Basatine. Ismael Ahmed Hassan, eighteen years old from Banadir MogadishuÓ.. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

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HAZYEZ, YEMEN- MAY 2008.Seven year old Sara is known locally as Òthe white girlÓ. She lives with her adopted Somali mother Nasrin in a brothel at Hazyez; a popular rest stop for truck drivers heading out of Sana'a on the Aden road. Sara will never know about her real mother Fatima, and the prostitutes with whom she stays don't talk about her out loud for fear that Sara might become upset if she ever hears the truth.Fleeing to Somalia nearly ten years ago as teenagers, friends Nasrin and Fatima were lured by a gang who were soon hustling them in and around Aden's dockyards and in the seedy bars that come and go near the port. For the young girls it was a shameful life but they were scared, far away from home and penniless. Nasrin eventually moved on but around three years later received a message- Fatima had died and there was a baby. Nobody is quite sure what happened but rumours abounded that Fatima has been sick with HIV/ Aids- the baby's father was said to have been an Italian sailor who had been seeing her regularly. Still considering the friend that she made the dangerous journey from Somalia with as almost family, Nasrin took it upon herself to informally adopt the little girl called Sara.Bringing up Sara has been tough for Nasrin. As a refugee with a half-caste child they are often looked upon as freaks, and so she keeps Sara indoors as much as she can. The local youths have been abusive and she thinks it could be damaging for Sara in the long term. Inside the brothel however, Sara is completely adored and hates to be apart from her adoptive mother and the close-knit group of girls who work from the small bungalow. She loves dressing up, and when Nasrin gets ready for work in the evening, she puts on make-up too, pouting and making provocative movements with her hips. As the mobile phone keeps ringing with potential customers, Sara puts on a mask of her mother's face she has made by cutting out a photograph. She looks at the picture, kisses it and says, ÒI lo (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

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BOSASSO, SOMALIA- JANUARY 2007.Making their way on foot in high winds, part of a group of sixty Somali and Ethiopian tahrib head along the rubbish-strewn beach in Bossaso at sundown. Staying at a halfway house in one of the coastal camps, the men, women and children are about to set off on the perilous voyage to Yemen. Convening on the outskirts of town after nightfall, they will meet with the smugglers and trucks that will eventually transport them to a remote departure point from where they will say their goodbyes to Africa. Until the sun disappears, they hang around on the beach, reflecting on the long journey they have made so far and the more dangerous leg that lies just ahead. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

BOSASSO, SOMALIA- JANUARY 2007.Heading back to a smuggler's house on the periphery of one of the many sprawling refugee camps, a man walks quickly along a dusty road on the edge of Bossaso town at dusk. At night, the back streets and camps of Bossaso become dangerous places in which to hang around due to continued clan violence and the risk of robbery from armed gangs who prey on new arrivals. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

SIYU, KENYA- FEBRAURY 2007.Mould slowly creeps over a crudely drawn map sketched in charcoal depicting smuggling routes from the Horn of Africa ÒTo ArabiaÓ on the walls of the an old fort close to Somalia's southern frontier. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

BIR ALI, YEMEN- MAY 2007.Having arrived in the middle of the night following a fifty-seven hour long voyage from Somalia, dawn breaks over a group of Ethiopian migrants and refugees at a sandy beach near Bir Ali on Yemen's southern coast. A pair of tiny fishing boats sailing close together brought a total of two hundred and fifty-three tahrib within sight of land but coming under fire from Yemeni soldiers, quickly turned around and headed back out into deep waters. Returning the following night for a second attempt at offloading their human cargo, smugglers demanded extra money from passengers if they wanted to be dropped close to shore. Despite being unable to swim, most were thrown overboard two kilometres out at sea as they protested. At least thirty passengers are estimated to have drowned. Only twenty-three of the bodies were ever found.Separated by nationality on arrival, the Somali refugees were first counted and taken away for processing at a nearby reception centre just a couple of hours after setting foot on the beach. The Ethiopians who remain behind have not been so lucky. Despite being severely traumatised and dehydrated, soldiers have detained the exhausted group, fearing that unlike the Somalis who have the automatic right to asylum, they might try to escape. It took fifteen hours before they were finally allowed to proceed to the centre and receive the water, food and medical attention they so badly needed. Most haven't eaten or had access to drinking water for a long time now, having spent days at beaches waiting to depart from Somalia. Others are just in a state of shock. Having been beaten and robbed by smugglers during the voyage, they must now proceed on their journey into Yemen knowing that their friends and relatives are unaccounted for. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

ADEN, YEMEN- MARCH 2007.Bright lights and modern buidlings surround the port area of Ma'alla in downtown Aden. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

AL-BAIDA, YEMEN- MAY 2007.Beaten to death, the bloody bodies of individuals killed at the hands of smugglers lie washed up on the white sands of Al-Baida Beach. Brought ashore by the tide hours after their deaths, the corpses of those murdered before they entered the water are easy to distinguish. Unlike the countless migrants and refugees who drown so close to the end of their dangerous voyage, there are no traces of foaming salt water around their mouths, only the sanguine marks left by rifle butts, sticks and hammers. Despite their renown for brutality, those desperate to escape Africa's Horn easily disregard the stories they have heard about the smuggling gangs, thinking only of the better life they hope to find on escaping the violence that has overshadowed their everyday lives.The beaches of southern Yemen have become graves for thousands of unidentified migrants and refugees. Until a shallow hole in the sand can be dug for these victims, crabs will move in to take their share as they spend the next few hours feasting on the soft tissues. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

AL-BAIDA, YEMEN- MAY 2007.Beaten to death, the bloody bodies of individuals killed at the hands of smugglers lie washed up on the white sands of Al-Baida Beach. Brought ashore by the tide hours after their deaths, the corpses of those murdered before they entered the water are easy to distinguish. Unlike the countless migrants and refugees who drown so close to the end of their dangerous voyage, there are no traces of foaming salt water around their mouths, only the sanguine marks left by rifle butts, sticks and hammers. Despite their renown for brutality, those desperate to escape Africa's Horn easily disregard the stories they have heard about the smuggling gangs, thinking only of the better life they hope to find on escaping the violence that has overshadowed their everyday lives.The beaches of southern Yemen have become graves for thousands of unidentified migrants and refugees. Until a shallow hole in the sand can be dug for these victims, crabs will move in to take their share as they spend the next few hours feasting on the soft tissues. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

AL-BAIDA, YEMEN- MAY 2007.Beaten to death, the bloody bodies of individuals killed at the hands of smugglers lie washed up on the white sands of Al-Baida Beach. Brought ashore by the tide hours after their deaths, the corpses of those murdered before they entered the water are easy to distinguish. Unlike the countless migrants and refugees who drown so close to the end of their dangerous voyage, there are no traces of foaming salt water around their mouths, only the sanguine marks left by rifle butts, sticks and hammers. Despite their renown for brutality, those desperate to escape Africa's Horn easily disregard the stories they have heard about the smuggling gangs, thinking only of the better life they hope to find on escaping the violence that has overshadowed their everyday lives.The beaches of southern Yemen have become graves for thousands of unidentified migrants and refugees. Until a shallow hole in the sand can be dug for these victims, crabs will move in to take their share as they spend the next few hours feasting on the soft tissues. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

BOSASSO, SOMALIA- JANUARY 2007.Sitting in her makeshift tent in the dusty Bulo Elay Camp, thirty-two year old Hakumo Abdulahi looks down at her sick three month old son Ahmed in despair. Severely malnourished and suffering from a bout of bad diarrhea from drinking the unprotected local water, Ahmed has made little in the way of recovery. Despite Hakumo seeking assistance from a clinic run by the World Food Programme, she is worried that he won't pull through.Escaping from Mogadishu a year ago with just the clothes on her back, Hakumo left her other children behind with a relative in order to follow her husband to Bossaso by truck; she discovered she was pregnant soon after. Originally planning to escape Somalia for the shores of Yemen, the family have now been forced to eke out a life in the camps of Bossaso, unable to return home or to continue their journey. Hakumo has no word as to whether her other children are alive or dead. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

BOSASSO, SOMALIA- JANUARY 2007.In the dry scrubland of Shebelle B's Camp #6, karate instructor Ahado spars with one of his pupils on a cleared patch of ground in front of his tent come martial arts school.Fleeing threats of violence in Mogadishu, Ahado and his family made the long journey to Bossaso with the dream of setting sail in search of a new life. Unable to raise the money, Adaho became stuck, and so found a spot to pitch a shelter he constructed himself from sticks, sheets and cardboard boxes. Reaching the shores of Yemen remains in his thoughts each day but for now, he makes a few shillings teaching afternoon classes of karate to other displaced Somalis in the surrounding camps. It keeps him feeling human. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

BOSASSO, SOMALIA- JANUARY 2007.In the dry scrubland of Shebelle B's Camp #6, karate instructor Ahado spars with one of his pupils on a cleared patch of ground in front of his tent come martial arts school.Fleeing threats of violence in Mogadishu, Ahado and his family made the long journey to Bossaso with the dream of setting sail in search of a new life. Unable to raise the money, Adaho became stuck, and so found a spot to pitch a shelter he constructed himself from sticks, sheets and cardboard boxes. Reaching the shores of Yemen remains in his thoughts each day but for now, he makes a few shillings teaching afternoon classes of karate to other displaced Somalis in the surrounding camps. It keeps him feeling human. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

BOSASSO, SOMALIA- JANUARY 2007.A newly arrived tahrib unrolls his bedding in the back room of a halfway house run by a smuggling gang near Bossaso port. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

BOSASSO, SOMALIA- DECEMBER 2007.Having spent the last five days at sea and nearly three weeks traveling on the road, 26 year old Ahmed Murr recovers along with fellow survivors in the confines of a smuggler Omar's safe house in Bossaso town.Having survived being shot in the forehead during heavy fighting in Somalia's capitol, Ahmed escaped the city with a group of friends. Coming from Mogadishu, they had few fears about the journey that lay ahead of them.He thinks his friends are now in Yemen having crossed the Gulf of Aden in the boats of Omar's men- but he's not sure they are still alive. Ahmed was with them but he never made it ashore. Approaching a beach on Yemen's eastern coast in the dead of night, the tiny fishing boat came under attack as Yemeni soldiers fired randomly into the dark sea. He was one of the few survivors. Despite the captain being shot, the two remaining crew managed to turn the boat around and navigate their way back across the seas. Sailing with the captain's body and the five tahrib who had remained on board, it took them three more days to make it back to Bossaso without drinking water or food.Ahmed Murr is now ready to try again. He hopes to spend a few days resting and has asked Omar to help him cross for a second time. There is no going back. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

SHIMBIRO, SOMALIA- NOVEMBER 2007.As smugglers run back and forth through the water making last minute preparations, a crew member from a boat moored off the coast at Shimbiro, returns to shore with a hammer after carrying out repairs to the floating vessel now packed with it's human cargo. Many of the tiny fishing boats used by the smuggling networks are unreliable; as engines fail and the unstable vessels take on water, they frequently run into difficulties on the high seas. For the migrants and refugees tied up on board, it is just one of the many risks that makes the crossing ahead such a dangerous gamble. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

SHIMBIRO, SOMALIA- NOVEMBER 2007.As a storm sets in during the night, a smuggler's boat becomes beached in rough seas at a remote cove on Somalia's horn. Summoned by bursts of live gunfire, migrants and refugees sleeping in the surrounding mountains are ordered by the armed gangs to help stabilise the stricken vessel that they are waiting to board. Using ropes, they work in chain gangs at gunpoint, pulling hard to tow the boat into fierce incoming waves in an attempt free it from the sands. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

SHIMBIRO, SOMALIA- NOVEMBER 2007.As a storm sets in during the night, a smuggler's boat becomes beached in rough seas at a remote cove on Somalia's horn. Summoned by bursts of live gunfire, migrants and refugees sleeping in the surrounding mountains are ordered by the armed gangs to help stabilise the stricken vessel that they are waiting to board. Using ropes, they work in chain gangs at gunpoint, pulling hard to tow the boat into fierce incoming waves in an attempt free it from the sands. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

AL-KHARAZ, YEMEN- APRIL 2008.Having been registered and interviewed by UNHCR staff at Al-Kharaz, a sick woman is attended to by a nurse after being referred to the clinic for medical attention. Providing basic health care for the camp's seventeen thousand residents and a feeding programme for malnourished children, two wards at the clinic treat the seriously ill and those who have sustained injuries on their journey with smugglers from Somalia. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

AL-KHARAZ, YEMEN- APRIL 2008.Sitting close to the floor on rows of benches without legs, men while away a few hours watching television at a recreation centre in Al-Kharaz Camp. The centre offers adult education, basic skills training such sewing and barbering classes, a gym and a dedicated room where women can meet. Mostly though, it serves as an escape from the heat and a place to relax. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

AL-KHARAZ, YEMEN- APRIL 2008.Waiting to be registered at the UNHCR office in Al-Kharaz Camp, a young boy wearing a keffiyeh who has seemingly travelled alone from Somalia, sits half asleep at a table with his head in his hands. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

AL-KHARAZ, YEMEN- APRIL 2008.Suad sweeps up after a customer in the back dining room at the Wafa'a Restaurant. Run by the renowned Foors and her twin daughters, the simple thatched Wa'afa Restaurant has become an institution at Al-Kharaz camp. Coming alone with her children to Yemen at the outbreak of civil war in Somalia, Foors started out selling plates of food in Yemen's first refugee camp at Al-Sha'b. Spacing! As the locations of the camps have changed over the years, she has reopened the restaurant at each successive site, as along with thousands of others she was forced to move on.Cooking, cleaning and serving customers from dawn until dusk each day, she has a hard time keeping up with the demand for her tasty cheap eats. Lately she has even expanded the restaurant out back, comma covering the floor with vinyl so she can seat more diners when the wooden tables and chairs become full. A determined and lively woman, Foors works hard to support her family in an environment where few refugees succeed. By lunchtime, the Wa'afa Restaurant is packed. Some young children are hanging around outside hoping to get some scraps so Foors gives them each a small bowl of porridge, comma then quickly sits back behind the stove.. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

AL-KHARAZ, YEMEN- APRIL 2008.The hub of shops and services at Al-Kharaz line a wide dusty street at the heart of the camp that has become jokingly known as ÒAden MallÓ, after the glitzy new shopping centre in the city some three hours away. Here though there are no fancy supermarkets or clothes shops selling imported goods that remain illusive for the refugees, only small windows cut from wire mesh or corrugated iron serving up basic groceries, sodas and samosas. Kiosks painted with the flags of Somalia and Oromia sell qat and provide shade for a few traders selling vegetables laid out on sacks amid the dirt. Less obvious are the money transfer offices and call centres usually distinguished by a world map or the glitzy posters of skyscrapers that they have pinned to the walls. Just behind the shops, a concreted patch surrounded by barbed wire is home to a morning fish market but out in the open desert, it disappears before lunchtime when the heat becomes intolerable. In the cool of the evening, Aden Mall comes to life once again with shoppers and men sipping chai at their regular cafes before heading to the open-air mosque for Maghreb prayers. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

AL-KHARAZ, YEMEN- APRIL 2008.Hanging around the Wafa'a restaurant in search of food scraps, a small girl licks clean a bowl of porridge she has been given. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

AL-KHARAZ, YEMEN- APRIL 2008.Heading towards one of Al-Kharaz camp's accommodation blocks at sundown, a woman is helped out by her son and daughter as they carry home pots, pans and plastic sheeting following a distribution of non-food items.Women make up more than half the heads of families in Al-Kharaz. Separated from their husbands through conflict and insecurity, the camp has become a place of exile for thousands of single mothers. Almost all are completely reliant on the rations and aid they receive but it is barely enough to provide for their children. Having escaped from Somalia, their relinquished destinies now lie in this forsaken desert internment. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

AL-KHARAZ, YEMEN- APRIL 2008.Coming to Yemen when he was just a baby, fourteen year old Mohamed Noor had already lost one toe after being injured during a firefight in his home town of Kismayo in southern Somalia. Now along with his six siblings and widowed mother Asri, he lives in a graffiti covered room of an abandoned military building in Al-Kharaz camp. Without a father, Mohamed and his family are considered Òat riskÓ and are hoping to be re-settled to a third country; a process that could take years. Having spent almost his whole life growing up in the confines of refugee camps, Mohamed's only escape are his pet birds. He brings down from the roof to play with when he gets depressed. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

DJIBOUTI, DJIBOUTI- MARCH 2008.Saara Ali Mohamed comforts her friend Ayan Mousa Esmail in an overcrowded room of a transit house in Djiboutiville's Quatier Quatre. The two eighteen year old girls both escaped from Mogadishu after their homes were destroyed in an attack by Ethiopian forces during the recent wave of fighting. Hiding out along with twenty-two other tahrib, both are waiting to travel with smugglers across the Gulf of Aden to Yemen. Having met on the road in an overland journey that took them three weeks, this new group of friends now refer to themselves as Òthe gangÓ and are hoping to continue the onward leg together. They know that it will be the most dangerous part but have consciously come via Djibouti in order to avoid the notorious smugglers in Bossaso that they have heard so much about. So far they have had only made contact with middle men in Djibouti via the owners of a small money exchange office but know little about the reputations of the leaders in who's hands they will ultimately place their lives. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)

A MILLION SHILLINGS

DJIBOUTI, DJIBOUTI- MARCH 2008.Saara Ali Mohamed comforts her friend Ayan Mousa Esmail in an overcrowded room of a transit house in Djiboutiville's Quatier Quatre. The two eighteen year old girls both escaped from Mogadishu after their homes were destroyed in an attack by Ethiopian forces during the recent wave of fighting. Hiding out along with twenty-two other tahrib, both are waiting to travel with smugglers across the Gulf of Aden to Yemen. Having met on the road in an overland journey that took them three weeks, this new group of friends now refer to themselves as Òthe gangÓ and are hoping to continue the onward leg together. They know that it will be the most dangerous part but have consciously come via Djibouti in order to avoid the notorious smugglers in Bossaso that they have heard so much about. So far they have had only made contact with middle men in Djibouti via the owners of a small money exchange office but know little about the reputations of the leaders in who's hands they will ultimately place their lives. (KEYSTONE/NOOR/Alixandra Fazzina)