“A small gesture that can save lives”, volunteers in Belgium build drones for Ukraine
In a discreet building in Brussels, around two dozen volunteers dedicate their Sundays to building drones for the Ukrainian army. The location is kept secret, but the objective is clear: to support Ukraine’s defense with simple, cheap and increasingly necessary equipment on the battlefield.
Between engines, propellers and cables, Frederik participates for the first time. He is learning, but does not hide his motivation.
“It’s a small gesture, but it can save lives”
The initiative is from Wings for Europe, the organization mainly brings together expatriates, but is also starting to attract Belgians who are aware of the cause. Drones made in Brussels head to the front line in Ukraine every week.
“I have a lot of friends in the Ukrainian community and the fate of Ukraine touches me deeply, as does that of Europe as a whole. And this is a fantastic thing to do.”
Drones are basic models, comparable to commercial equipment, costing around 350 euros each. Despite their simplicity, they are vital for observation and reconnaissance tasks in the field. Once they arrive at the front, Ukrainian units adapt them for specific missions.
Bartas Trakymas is one of those responsible for the organization that, in addition to traditional models, is already producing 3D printed devices capable of intercepting and neutralizing Russian drones.
“An experienced builder can assemble a drone in less than three hours. We’ve already sent hundreds to Ukraine and we’re always improving.”
Even from a distance, it is possible to support Wings for Europe, through donations, intended for the purchase of parts to manufacture the drones.
Humor and fear, how we live in Syria one year after the fall of Bashar al-Assad
A year after the fall of Bashar al-Assad, Syria lives between caution and hope, freedom of expression seems to be starting to gain ground, even if timidly. In Damascus, the night of stand-up comedy became a symbol of this change, but also of the country’s fragility after 14 years of civil war.
Inside a small room full of young people, jokes about religion, politics and the new government elicit nervous laughter. Laughter exists, but it is never alone. Comedy in Syria still has many limits.
“We have journalists in the room, so today we take it easy. We love the new president, Sharaa, all of us. Just like we loved Bashar al-Assad.”
Shareef is one of the comedians of the night. The joke shows some signs of nervousness, but it also proves that change is happening. During the old regime, a sentence like that could mean prison and there was not always a way out. Today, it continues to be risky, and it is not yet known how far the new freedom will reach.
“We lived in fear for many years. Now the fear has changed.”
Even with more openness, the artists themselves admit that the biggest limit comes from themselves.
“There are now fewer limits to what we can say. But we continue to impose limits on ourselves, because that’s what the previous regime taught us. That fear was part of our growth.”
The night of humor in Damascus brings together people from different ethnic and religious groups. The way they coexist continues to be a rarity in the country. Syria is deeply divided. Episodes of violence between communities have returned, a sign that the country is far from stability. The wounds of war remain open, and fear continues to dominate social, political and religious relationships.
“I cried when I saw what they did to my neighborhood”, the emotion that made a protester in Minneapolis go viral
Alex Pretti’s death triggered a wave of outrage and protests in Minneapolis. Among those who took to the streets, one man stood out and quickly went viral: Mike Medvec, a resident of the city, is a gun owner and supporter of the security forces, but critical of federal intervention.
Mike Medvec was alone at home when he saw the images of the moment Alex Pretti was shot. The reaction was immediate.
“I’m still very emotional about this. I saw the images and thought: I can’t just stay here. What am I going to do?”
He decided to join the street protests. A gesture and a few words took Mike from an unknown protester to a success on social media in seconds.
“Anyone with a little heart would have helped. And if I was helping, it could have been me. Helping could have put me in the line of fire.”
The sentence was said live on local television and an emotional hug followed with the journalist.
Despite describing himself as someone who supports the police and the military, Mike explained that he firmly rejects what he considers to be an exaggeration in the actions of federal authorities.
“I cried when I saw what they did to my neighborhood. I pray that everyone stays vigilant, because I don’t want to see this happen to my city again.”
Mike Medvec makes a point of saying that his personal story shaped the way he looks at the suffering of others. And he celebrates having managed to free himself from drug addiction 39 years ago.
“When we see people struggling, whether with addiction or with life, we start to care.”
Despite the pride in the city’s response, Minneapolis residents do not forget the lives lost.
Clothes, coal or glue, where is the cocaine that enters the Netherlands hidden?
In 2024, Dutch port authorities intercepted half of the cocaine seized in the previous year. The fall is not a reason to celebrate. Authorities admit that organized crime is just adapting to increasingly tight controls in major European ports such as Rotterdam and Vlissingen. At the same time that fewer shipments arrive via “traditional” routes, more and more drugs are being disguised as everyday products, processed with chemicals that mask their presence and make detection difficult.
In the laboratory of the Netherlands Forensic Institute (NFI), experts deal daily with substances that seem commonplace, but hide cocaine inside.
“You won’t believe it, but everything you see here contains cocaine, glue, charcoal or even this thing that looks like cocoa.”
Jorrit van den Berg is an expert at the Forensic Institute and is increasingly called upon to test common everyday products, where cocaine is camouflaged. Even clothing impregnated with drugs has reached laboratories. With more customs teams deployed and increasing numbers of detection dogs, traditional ports have become more difficult to infiltrate. As a result, traffickers are diversifying routes and methods. Jorrit van den Berg explains the difficulty of detecting the drug.
“This coal, for example, arrives in the Netherlands by the ton. Try to find cocaine there. It’s very difficult.”
The Dutch Public Prosecutor’s Office follows the evolution of the numbers with apprehension. Martin van Nes says that consumption has not decreased, but detection of the drug has become more challenging.
“We’ve seen the price of cocaine drop by half in the last year and a half. That means there’s a lot of supply.”
The authorities’ conclusion is clear: the more sophisticated the methods for detecting drugs become, the more sophisticated the methods for hiding them become. In a world where coal can be cocaine, cocoa can be cocaine and even clothes can be cocaine, the only certainty is that nothing is exactly what it seems.
shows the different perspectives and cultural diversity in reports from more than 40 SIC partner television stations. Saturday, at 3:30 pm, on SIC Notícias.
