Sunday, December 10, 2023

MANITOBA
Louis Riel Act receives royal assent
Story by The Canadian Press • 1d

Future students in Manitoba will learn about the history of Louis Riel and his role as the province’s first premier after the Louis Riel Act received Royal Assent and became law on Friday, David Chartrand, president of the National Government of the Red River Métis, said.

The Act, Chartrand said, is the result of over three decades of advocacy and public education work by him and other ministers of the Manitoba Métis Federation. It sets to rights a 153-year-old injustice by declaring Louis Riel as the first premier of Manitoba, he said. It also requires the Manitoba education curriculum to include the significant contributions of Riel.

“We’re trying to correct this historical wrong that includes not only implications towards (Riel), our first premier, but implications against our Nation as a people, and how society looks at us differently because they adopted the ideology that Riel was a traitor and a madman,” Chartrand told the Sun.

Riel was born in 1844 and formed a militia, taking possession of Upper Fort Garry and beginning the Red River Resistance in 1869, the Manitoba government website says.

During the winter of 1869-70, Riel formed a provisional government and presented a Bill of Rights to Canada, which went on to become the Manitoba Act on May 12, 1870. Riel’s government approved it on June 24, and the Act came into effect on July 15.

Riel was elected to the Canadian Parliament but denied his seat on three separate occasions. He was convicted of murder and sentenced to death in 1874 for executing an agitator in 1870, the website said. Riel received amnesty on the condition that he remain in exile for five years, and after being defeated in the North-West Rebellion at Batoche in May 1885, was found guilty of high treason and hanged in Regina on Nov. 16, 1885.

Chartrand, along with Red River Métis citizens, staff and MMF cabinet members, were at the Manitoba Legislative Building yesterday to witness the moment the Act received Royal Assent.

“It’s almost hard to believe that all the years of struggle and advocacy could end with a single gesture by our lieutenant governor, Anita Neville,” Chartrand said. “This makes our Nation’s dreams come true, and instils a huge sense of pride in our citizens.”

After the Act was passed into law, Chartrand was presented with a copy of the Act signed by Premier Wab Kinew and the Red River Métis Members of the Legislative Assembly who helped usher in the legislation. The first signed copy will be taken to Riel’s gravesite, and the second will be framed and put on display in the MMF’s heritage centre, so future generations of Red River Métis people will be able to see an understand the battle for Riel’s recognition, Chartrand said.

“I commend Premier Kinew and his team for joining us in this long battle, walking alongside us for the last few years as we worked to achieve this vision.”

The MMF will continue to work with the province to see that an oil painting of Riel, similar to the paintings of other premiers, will be installed to further inspire Red River Métis citizens, Manitobans and Canadians.

The next step for the MMF will be to ensure that Canadians are educated about the contribution of Louis Riel as a father of Confederation, Chartrand said.

“Without doubt, he is looking down on us and seeing that his courage, bravery and sacrifice were not in vain.”

Chartrand is also excited about the portion of the Act that involves education.

“All children in Manitoba and Canada will now learn about Louis Riel the hero, the visionary, the founder of Manitoba and a father of Canada’s confederation,” he said. “It’s a proud day to be Red River Métis.”

Adrienne Carriere, the director of the MMF’s Infinity Women Secretariat, agreed with Chartrand’s sentiments.

“It’s been an exciting couple of weeks with the MFF,” she said.

The granting of Royal Assent to the Louis Riel Act was part of the Kinew government’s end to the fall sitting of its first legislative session, with the passage of three bills focused on reconciliation and cutting fuel taxes. The session will resume with the spring sitting on March 7.

Miranda Leybourne, Local Journalism Initiative Reporter, Brandon Sun

‘World’s oldest pyramid' built 25,000 years ago was not made by humans, archaeologists claim

Story by Liam O'Dell • 1d

Researchers in Indonesia claim prehistoric pyramid could rewrite human history

While Guinness World Records officially lists the Djoser Step pyramid in Egypt as the world’s oldest pyramid (around 2,630 BC), one paper published in October claimed a layer of the Gunung Padang pyramid in Indonesia was constructed as far back as 25,000 BC – though there has since been doubts as to whether the structure was ever man-made at all.

In research led by Danny Hilman Natawidjaja of the Indonesian Institute of Sciences, and published in the journal Archaeological Prospection, the academics write that “the pyramid’s core consists of meticulously sculpted massive andesite lava” and that the “oldest construction” element of the pyramid “likely originated as a natural lava hill before being sculpted and then architecturally enveloped”.

They write: “This study sheds light on advanced masonry skills dating back to the last glacial period. This finding challenges the conventional belief that human civilisation and the development of advanced construction techniques emerged only … with the advent of agriculture approximately 11,000 years ago.

“Evidence from Gunung Padang and other sites, such as Gobekli Tepe [in Turkey], suggests that advanced construction practices were already present when agriculture had, perhaps, not yet been invented.”

The academics also claim that the builders “must have possessed remarkable masonry capabilities”, but one UK archaeologist has rubbished the paper, saying he is “surprised [it] was published as is”.

Flint Dibble, from Cardiff University, told the journal Nature that there is no clear evidence to suggest the buried layers were built by humans.

“Material rolling down a hill is going to, on average, orient itself,” he said, adding that there’s no evidence of “working or anything to indicate that it’s man-made”.

Meanwhile, Bill Farley, an archaeologist at Southern Connecticut State University, is credited as saying “the 27,000-year-old soil samples from Gunung Padang, although accurately dated, do not carry hallmarks of human activity, such as charcoal or bone fragments”.

Natawidjaja has responded to the criticism by saying “we are really open to researchers around the world who would like to come to Indonesia and do some research programme on Gunung Padang”, while the co-editor of Archaeological Prospection has confirmed an investigation has been launched into the paper.
Technology built the cashless society. Advances are helping the unhoused so they're not left behind


WASHINGTON (AP) — John Littlejohn remembers the days when lots of people had a couple of dollars to spare to buy a copy of Street Sense, the local paper that covers issues related to the homeless and employs unhoused individuals as its vendors.

Today, he's finding fewer people are walking around with spare change. Even well-meaning individuals who want to help are likely to pat their pockets and apologize, he said.

“I would be out here for six or seven hours and wouldn't get more than $12 to $15,” said Littlejohn, 62, who was homeless for 13 years. “People are like, ‘I don’t leave the house with cash.'”

But just as technological shifts helped create the problem, further advances are now helping charitable groups and advocates for the unhoused reach those most in danger of being left behind in a cashless society.

A special Street Sense phone app allows people to buy a copy electronically and have the profits go straight to him. Thanks to Social Security and his income from Street Sense and other side gigs, Littlejohn now has his own apartment.

One of the larger shifts in Western society over the past two decades has been the decline of cash transactions. It started with more people using credit cards to pay for things as trivial as a cup of coffee. It accelerated as smartphone technology advanced to the point where cash-free payments became the norm for many.

This shift has been felt keenly in the realm of street-level charitable giving — from individual donations to panhandlers and street musicians to the red Salvation Army donation kettles outside grocery stores.

“Everybody just has cards or their phones now,” said Sylvester Harris, a 54-year-old Washington native who panhandles near Capital One Arena. “You can tell the ones who really do want to help you, but even they just don't have cash anymore."

The cashless world can be particularly daunting for the unhoused. While electronic payment apps such as PayPal or Venmo have become ubiquitous, many of these options require items beyond their reach — credit cards, bank accounts, identification documents or fixed mailing addresses.

Charities have struggled to adapt. The Salvation Army has created a system where donors can essentially tap their phones on the kettle and pay directly.


Michelle Wolfe, director of development for the Salvation Army in Washington, said the new system is only in place in 2% of the collection kettles in the greater Washington area, but it has already resulted in increased donations. The minimum cashless donation is now $5, and donors routinely go as high as $20, Wolfe said.

At Street Sense, similar advances were necessary to keep up with changing consumer habits. Around 2013, executive director Brian Camore said he started receiving “anecdotal reports left and right” from vendors saying people wanted to buy a copy but had no cash. Each vendor purchases the copies from Street Sense for 50 cents and sells them for $2.

“We were losing sales and had to do something about it,” he said. “We recognized that the times were changing, and we had to change with them.”

Eventually he heard about an affiliate paper in Vancouver that had developed a cashless payment app and licensed the technology. Vendors can now redeem their profits at the Street Sense offices.


Thomas Ratliff, Street Sense’s director of vendor employment, deals directly with the paper’s approximately 100 sellers. He cited the COVID-19 pandemic as an extra factor making life difficult for his team.

For starters, it scared people away from using cash for fear that paper money exchanges would be an infection vector. But the most damaging part was the permanent reduction in the number of people working from downtown offices, cutting off Street Sense's main customer base.

“Commuters have always been the best customers compared to tourists,” he said.

But without that steady stream of familiar commuters, Ratliff said his vendors have had to expand their territory. Instead of concentrating on the downtown business district, Street Sense vendors now often travel by Metro to places like Silver Spring, Maryland, to find commercial areas with steady foot traffic.


Ratliff now finds himself doing tech support for his vendors, helping them navigate the complexities of a modern online presence. Among the most common problems: “Changing emails, losing or forgetting passwords, losing your documents."

Certain payment platforms like Venmo and Cash App are more unhoused-friendly because they do not require a bank account, just a phone number and email address. But even that can be daunting. Ratliff said many of his vendors often change cellphone numbers, and a steady phone number can be a key element in verifying your identity on these apps.

Others have taken the technology a step further, developing apps that aim to not only enable cashless donations to the homeless but also to steer them into support systems that can help get them off the streets. The Samaritan app takes a deeply personal approach by allowing donors to essentially help sponsor an unhoused person without using cash.

Currently operating in seven cities, including Los Angeles and Baltimore, the program distributes special cards to unhoused people containing a QR code that enables individuals to donate directly to someone's account. The app itself contains dozens of mini-profiles of local unhoused individuals describing their situation and immediate needs. Donors can give money to fund specific needs, from groceries or a deposit on an apartment to clothing suitable for a job interview.

“It’s a lot harder to walk by someone when you know even 1% of their story,” said Jon Kumar, the Samaritan app's founder. “It personalizes the person in need — their personality and the tangible specificity of their needs and goals.”

Kumar licenses his app technology to charities, and recipients can redeem their donations by meeting with a case manager — which serves as a route to provide other services like counseling or drug rehab. In addition to the direct donations, recipients can also receive $10 or $20 bonuses for reaching certain benchmarks, such as meeting with a case manager, submitting a job application or even reaching out to an estranged family member.

“No one is going to pay their rent through street donations. But if our platform helps a person press into their housing search, their employment search, their pursuit of recovery, those types of things are a lot more impactful,” Kumar said.

These efforts to transcend the cashless technology gap have seen their share of trial and error over the years. Wolfe said the Salvation Army originally tried out a system using a QR code that proved to be “too clunky and took too long.”

Kumar's early efforts included an experiment with giving unhoused people Bluetooth beacon devices that enabled app users to see which beacon holders were in their area and donate to them. But the beacons needed regular battery changes, and the model was eventually abandoned.

None of these solutions is perfect, and plenty of people are still being left behind. Ratliff said many people simply don't have the temperament or personality for the job.

“You have to have nerve to sell a paper and reel in customers,” he said. Others are disabled or frail and “not up for the physical stresses of selling out there.”

Kumar, the Samaritan app developer, said many unhoused people “are not a great fit for this kind of intervention.”

Some have deeper mental or emotional issues that make the level of structure required by the program impossible to navigate.

"Many of the people we're trying to serve are in need of more intensive, perhaps permanent support in terms of their mental health,” he said. “Those folks, because of the polychronic nature of their challenges, they’re constantly left behind.”

___

Associated Press writer Gary Fields contributed to this report.

Ashraf Khalil, The Associated Press
Canada has a secretive history of adoption, and some want it brought to light

Story by The Canadian Press • 6h

Canada has a secretive history of adoption, and some want it brought to light
© Provided by The Canadian Press

ST. JOHN'S, N.L. — In a theatre in St. John's, N.L., a murmur spreads through the audience as people timidly raise their hands. They have been asked if they saw their own stories reflected in the film they just watched — "A Quiet Girl."

The National Film Board documentary by Montreal director Adrian Wills follows him as he searches for his biological mother in her home province of Newfoundland and Labrador. Each step closer to his mother takes him deeper into the history of adoption in the province, where many unwed pregnant women in deeply Christian towns surrendered their babies to be brought up by someone else.

"What people said to us afterwards was, 'My God, this is my cousin's story, this is my sister's story, this is our story,'" Wills said in a recent interview after screenings in central Newfoundland. "It was really emotional ... so many people want to tell you their stories."

Many more of those stories need to be told, said Anne Sheldon, who runs a Facebook group called Newfoundland and Labrador Adoptees. Each month there are many new posts from adopted people born in the '50s, '60s and '70s, looking for their biological family members in Newfoundland. The group has more than 14,000 members.

The province's painful history of adoption has largely been kept in the dark, she said. She hopes Wills's film will help change that.

In "A Quiet Girl," Wills learns his biological mother became pregnant with him when she was 18, in 1972. Her family at the time was poor and devout. She gave birth to him in a hospital in St. John's.

"I went in to see her and she was lying on her side and she was just looking at the wall," Ellen, his biological aunt, tells him in the film. "I went to the nursery and I asked to see (her baby). And the nurse came and she said, 'I'm sorry, you can't see that baby.'"

Jean Ann Farrell, the coordinator of Newfoundland Adoption Services in the 1970s, tells him that at any given time, there were "hundreds of babies" available to adopt in the province. The provincial government even advertised the babies in newspapers.

Sheldon, 53, was adopted from Corner Brook, N.L., when she was three months old. Her biological mother lived about 180 kilometres away in Springdale, N.L., which, at the time, was a "very Pentecostal town," Sheldon said.

"I don't want to come across as harsh, but they very much looked down upon single, unwed mothers. You were more or less shunned," she said. "That's why she had to leave Springdale and go to Corner Brook and give birth to me in secret, and then return."

Similar stories were playing out across Canada, in staggering numbers, according to Valerie Andrews, the executive director of Origins Canada, an Ontario-based non-profit supporting families separated by adoption. She's also a PhD student in women's studies at York University and author of the book, "White Unwed Mother: The Adoption Mandate in Postwar Canada."

She has pored over adoption data from across the country documenting the period from the 1940s to the 1970s, and she estimates at least 300,000 babies were surrendered for adoption in that time, often under intense societal and religious pressure.

It’s not entirely clear how many, if any, of the approximately 20,000 children taken from Indigenous mothers during the Sixties Scoop are included in that figure, because different provinces kept very different adoption statistics, she said.

Many unwed mothers were secretly shuttled away to the dozens of church-run "maternity homes" where they lived until their babies were born. They would surrender their infants and go home, told to never think or speak of their child again.

Andrews herself became pregnant at 16 and went to a maternity home in Toronto in 1969. She was reunited with her son three decades later.

"Many women now ... are suffering in pain and secrecy," she said in an interview. "They're unable to tell their families that they have this baby. Maybe you've been married to a man for 60 years, you're not going to tell him now, 'Oh, by the way.'"

That pain informs Sheldon's approach to her Facebook group, where she insists people look for their families with compassion and care.

She said "A Quiet Girl" has that compassion. It will help people see the complexity of adoption for the mother and the child, and it will help families separated by adoption better understand each other, she said.


The National Film Board said the film is expected to be released on its website in early 2024.

At the screening in St. John's, the audience erupted into sustained applause when Wills said he had found belonging with his biological mother's family, and as a Newfoundlander.

"There is this sense that when people are adopted, that they're supposed to just kind of go through life as if that didn't occur," he said. "This shows there's so much more complexity involved in this situation ... that you can't just move on and act like this hasn't been a massive experience for everybody involved."

This report by The Canadian Press was first published Dec. 10, 2023.

Sarah Smellie, The Canadian Press
Children of imprisoned Iranian activist Narges Mohammadi accept the Nobel Peace Prize on her behalf

Children of imprisoned Iranian activist Narges Mohammadi accept the Nobel Peace Prize on her behalf© Provided by The Canadian Press

HELSINKI (AP) — The teenage children of imprisoned Iranian activist Narges Mohammadi accepted this year’s Nobel Peace Prize in the Norwegian capital on Sunday on behalf of the mother they haven’t seen in years, reading out a speech she penned from a Tehran prison as her medal rested on an empty chair.

Mohammadi, 51, was awarded the 2023 Nobel Peace Prize in October for her decades of activism despite numerous arrests by Iranian authorities and spending years behind bars. She is renowned for campaigning for women's rights and democracy in her country, as well as fighting against the death penalty.

Kiana and Ali Rahmani, Mohammadi’s 17-year-old twins who live in exile in Paris with their father, received the prestigious award at Oslo City Hall, which was richly adored with blue orchids for the occasion. Daughter Kiana read the first part of the Nobel Peace Prize lecture in their mother's name, and her brother continued it.

“I write this message from behind the high, cold walls of a prison," Mohammadi said in the speech. "I am a Middle Eastern woman, and come from a region which, despite its rich civilization, is now trapped amid war, the fire of terrorism, and extremism.”


WION Nobel Prize winner Narges Mohammadi begins new hunger strike
2:14


Nobel Peace Prize 2023: Narges Mohammadi on hunger strike, children accept her prize
2:36


ReutersChildren of Iran Nobel Peace Prize winner speak out
0:56



In the presence of Norway's King Harald and Queen Sonja and other dignitaries, Berit Reiss-Andersen, chairwoman of the Norwegian Nobel Committee, cited Mohammadi's “life-long struggle in support of human rights and strong civil society.”

A large portrait on display showed Mohammadi in pastel colors and smiling.

“She has asked us to use this particular photograph, which expresses how she wants to lead her life, looking happy in colorful garments, exposing her hair and with a steady gaze towards us,” Reiss-Andersen said.

“No punishment has stopped her,” Reiss-Andersen said, citing the sentences of imprisonment and over 150 lashes that have been imposed on her. She said when Mohammadi needed medical treatment recently, she was told she would be taken to a hospital on condition she wear a hijab. She refused, and was eventually taken to a different medical facility.

“When everything has been denied her, she still mobilizes the willpower and courage to make a statement," Reiss-Andersen said.

"This year's Peace Prize recognizes the brave women in Iran and around the world who fight for basic human rights and for an end to the discrimination and against segregation of women."

In their speeches, Mohammadi's children both expressed regret that their mother wasn't allowed to be present in Oslo.

“She should have been here herself, but she was prevented by the executioners. I lend my voice to hers, and to all the girls and women of Iran whom nothing can silence,” Kiana Rahmani said in Farsi at the beginning of her speech given in French.

Her brother noted that their mother's “body is behind bars but her pen and thoughts have burst through the walls and reached us."

“She and the Iranian people have never been more oppressed than now. But never has their voice resonated so strongly in the world. Let us continue to spread the reverberation so that Narges Mohammadi and the Iranian people will one day be able to break their chains,” he said.

At a news conference in Oslo on Saturday, Kiana Rahmani read out a message from her mother in which she praised the role international media played in “conveying the voice of dissenters, protesters and human rights defenders to the world.”

“Iranian society needs global support and you, journalists and media professionals are our greatest and most important allies in the difficult struggle against the destructive tyranny of the Islamic Republic government. I sincerely thank you for your efforts, for all you’ve done for us,” Mohammadi said.

Kiana Rahmani said she held little hope of seeing her mother again.

“Maybe I’ll see her in 30 or 40 years, but I think I won’t see her again. But that doesn’t matter, because my mother will always live on in my heart, values that are worth fighting for,” she said.

Mohammadi’s brother and husband told reporters that she planned to go on a hunger strike on Sunday in solidarity with the Baha’i Faith religious minority in Iran.


Mohammadi's husband, Taghi, was in the audience to watch their children accept the prestigious prize. He had previously said that he hadn’t been able to see his wife for 11 years, while their children hadn't seen their mother for nearly eight years.

Mohammadi played a leading role in protests triggered by the death of 22-year-old Mahsa Amini last year while in police custody for allegedly violating the country’s strict headscarf law, which forces women to cover their hair and entire bodies.

Iranian authorities banned members of Amini’s family from traveling to accept the European Union’s top human rights prize — the Sakharov Prize for Freedom of Thought — on her behalf, the U.S.-based HRANA said late Saturday.

Narges Mohammadi is the 19th woman to win the Nobel Peace Prize and the second Iranian woman after human rights activist Shirin Ebadi in 2003.

It’s the fifth time in the 122-year history of the awards that the peace prize has been given to someone who is in prison or under house arrest.

The rest of the Nobel prizes were being handed out in separate ceremonies in Stockholm later Sunday.

___

Brooks reported from Copenhagen, Denmark. Associated Press writer Vanessa Gera in Warsaw, Poland, contributed to this report.

Jari Tanner And James Brooks, The Associated Press

Iran bans Mahsa Amini's family from traveling to accept the European Union’s top human rights prize



DUBAI, United Arab Emirates (AP) — Iranian authorities banned members of the late Mahsa Amini's family from traveling to accept the European Union’s top human rights prize on her behalf, a civil rights monitor reported. Amini's death while in police custody in 2022 sparked nationwide protests that rocked the Islamic Republic.

The U.S.-based HRANA said late Saturday that authorities have refused to allow Amini's father, Amjad, and two of her brothers to fly out to Strasbourg, France, to receive the Sakharov Prize for Freedom of Thought.

Reports said only the family's lawyer, Saleh Nikbakht, would be able to travel to be handed the award on their behalf.

The EU award, named for Soviet dissident and Nobel Peace Prize laureate Andrei Sakharov, was created in 1988 to honor individuals or groups who defend human rights and fundamental freedoms. It is “the highest tribute paid by the European Union to human rights work,” as per the EU Parliament website.

Earlier in September, Mahsa Amini was granted the prize. The 22-year-old Kurdish-Iranin woman died after Iran's morality police arrested her for allegedly violating the country’s strict headscarf law that forced women to cover their hair and entire bodies. Her death led to massive protests that quickly escalated into calls to overthrow Iran’s clerical rulers.

Iranian women, furious over Amini's death, played a pivotal role in the protests, with some opting to go without their mandatory headscarves.

Authorities immediately launched a heavy crackdown, in which over 500 people were killed and nearly 20,000 arrested, according to human rights activists in Iran. Authorities have said many of those detained were released or given reduced sentences. The protests largely died down earlier this year.

A total of eight people were executed in Iran in connection with the protests, after being charged with attacking security forces. Human rights activists have accused authorities of convicting them in secret proceedings after they were denied the right to defend themselves. Iran has denied the charges.

In 2012, Iranian human rights lawyer Nasrin Sotoudeh and dissident filmmaker Jafar Panahi jointly won the same prize.

Also on Sunday, the children of imprisoned Iranian activist Narges Mohammadi were set to accept this year’s Nobel Peace Prize on her behalf in a ceremony Sunday in the Norwegian capital.

Mohammadi was awarded the peace prize in October for campaigning for women’s rights and democracy in her country, as well as fighting against the death penalty. The jailed activist played a leading role in the protests sparked by Amini's death.

The Associated Press

Bosch expects to cut 1,500 jobs by 2025 at two German sites

Story by Reuters • 

Bosch logo is seen on a bike during Munich Auto Show, IAA Mobility 2021 in Munich, Germany, September 8, 2021. REUTERS/Wolfgang Rattay/File Photo© Thomson Reuters

FRANKFURT (Reuters) - Automotive supplier Bosch needs to cut up to 1,500 jobs at two of its German sites by 2025 to adapt staffing levels to changing demand and technologies in the auto sector, the company said on Sunday.

The workforce reductions were first reported by weekly industry newspaper Automobilwoche.

"Like other companies, we have to adjust the level of employment to the order situation, structural changes in the drive sector and the market penetration of future technologies," a spokesperson for Bosch said in e-mailed comments.

"We see a need to adjust up to 1,500 personnel capacities in the areas of development, administration and sales in the Drives division at the Feuerbach and Schwieberdingen sites by the end of 2025."

Bosch said it was trying to achieve this via moving staff to other departments, early retirement or voluntary redundancy agreements, adding the group was in talks with the works council over specifics.

"We are facing significantly greater challenges than expected at the beginning of the year ... Even if we want to maintain our employment level as best as possible with new products and a wide range of training measures, we will have to adjust this to the order situation in some areas," Bosch said.

Bosch confirmed that the company would refrain from compulsory redundancies at its German mobility locations until the end of 2027.

(Reporting by Christoph Steitz; Editing by Emelia Sithole-Matarise)
'There are less fish in the sea': Extreme weather takes a toll on Mumbai's fishermen

Story by Salimah Shivji • CBC

The fishing boats slowly pull into the bustling dock in northern Mumbai on India's west coast, carrying a fresh catch after spending hours at sea trying to net as many fish as possible. Those waiting on the shore look on anxiously.

Members of Mumbai's Koli community, who have been fishing these waters for generations, have been struggling to deal with an increasingly unfamiliar and volatile Arabian Sea, where warming temperatures are producing more frequent extreme cyclone events, disrupting fish habitats and marine ecosystems along the way.

On the dock, Prema Baliram Koli, 50, stood surveying with dismay the 14 crates her helpers deposited at her feet.

"Fishing nowadays is not the same. Sometimes we only get one or two crates of fish, when a good day is 40 or 50 crates," she said, shaking her head at the day's lacklustre haul.

As she and other women worked on the dock to sort and clean the fish, Koli predicted the next few days would bring an even more disappointing catch. Expenses to maintain and run her boats are increasing, she said, while the fishing days available to her and her community are dwindling.

"The rest of the time the boat is lying at the harbour for four or five days at a stretch."


After a meagre fish catch, Prema Baliram Koli can't hide her disappointment, with fewer viable fishing days because of erratic weather and her expenses skyrocketing. (Salimah Shivji/CBC )© Provided by cbc.ca

Kashinath Budiya Koli echoed her statements, saying that the price for the dried fish his community is known for was down, but expenses continued to rise.

"There are less fish in the sea," said the 62-year old longtime fisherman. "We now catch less than 10 per cent of what we used to catch."

Both Kashinath and Prema grew up with fishing in their blood in a cluster of villages on northern Mumbai's Madh island, where the entire community is worried about changes in the waters they know so well.



Fishermen along India's west coast complain of disappearing fish stocks because of environmental damage and rising sea temperatures. (Salimah Shivji/CBC)© Provided by cbc.ca

The Arabian Sea is part of the Indian Ocean, which, since the 1950s, has seen the fastest spike in surface temperatures of any ocean, warming at 0.11°C per decade, according to reports issued by the United Nations Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC).

The warming patterns as a result of climate change have provoked cascading effects on coastal ecosystems, said Medha Deshpande, a scientist with the Indian Institute of Tropical Meteorology.

"The Arabian Sea was very calm and quiet in the past," she told CBC News in an interview at the Pune-based government institute.



People in the fishing communities that dot Mumbai's coastline say they've noticed the number of fish in the sea dwindling, as the surface of the Arabian Sea is warming and affecting marine ecosystems. (Salimah Shivji/CBC)© Provided by cbc.ca

"But now the increase in the ocean temperature … is giving birth to more cyclones."

The tropical cyclones are also more intense, given the combination of warming water, rising global temperatures that have raised the air's capacity to hold moisture and the instability in the atmosphere, which creates the storm clouds, Deshpande said.

A recent report that Deshpande co-authored studied severe weather patterns in the Arabian Sea over the last 40 years and found that in the last two decades, from 2001 to 2019, the number of cyclones to hit the area increased by 52 per cent.


Many fishermen like Kashinath Budiya Koli, 62, have seen their boats destroyed in the more frequent cyclones hitting the area. Some people whose families have been fishing in the area for generations are now choosing to look for work elsewhere. (Salimah Shivji/CBC)© Provided by cbc.ca

"Fifty-two per cent is remarkable," Deshpande said. "It's a big deal because it's happening over a longer period of time," indicating a key trend.

According to her research, the more frequent cyclones now last 80 per cent longer and intense storm systems in the Arabian Sea have tripled. All of this leads to heavier rainfall, flooding and adverse effects for those whose livelihoods depend on the western Indian coast.

"We're going to get more intense cyclones in the future as well if we continue to see the change in [ocean and air] temperatures like this," Deshpande said, noting that the changes already seen are hard to reverse.



Cyclones in the Arabian Sea, once much more quiet and calm, are twice as frequent now than they were 20 years ago, and pack triple the intensity, which is disrupting the livelihoods of those who rely on the ocean. (Salimah Shivji/CBC)© Provided by cbc.ca
'Living in fear'

It's a new normal that's painful to get used to for Rajeshwari Koli and her husband, Dinesh Koli.

Their larger boat was anchored at sea when the powerful and deadly Cyclone Tauktae whipped through Mumbai in May 2021, causing massive damage.

The storm killed 169 people along the western Indian coast, and another five people in neighbouring Pakistan. Along with the death toll, the cyclone inflicted heavy losses to coastal fishermen, including damage to their boats.

Rajeshwari Koli couldn't hold back her tears more than two years later, as she recalled the destruction and chaos in the cyclone's aftermath.



The women of Mumbai's Koli community are in charge of sorting and cleaning the day's fish catch and are often the ones who sell the fish at local markets. (Salimah Shivji/CBC)© Provided by cbc.ca

"There was nothing left of our two boats, we lost everything," she told CBC News, describing the heavy toll at a time when her family was already struggling through the lockdown following the COVID-19 pandemic. "[The damage] was so bad, I couldn't bear to see it."

She and her husband had to take out a loan to buy another boat, and the trauma still haunts Koli, leaving her "with a heavy heart."


"Every time there's a cyclone, I get very scared. I pray hard, especially when the boats are at sea and not close by."

Mumbai's Madh island fishing villages sustained damage to 120 boats in that cyclone alone, with at least 26 a total loss, said Santosh Koli, a member of several local fishermen's associations.



Rajeshwari Koli, left, and her husband, Dinesh Koli, lost both of their boats when Cyclone Tauktae hit Mumbai in May 2021. She still has nightmares about it. (Salimah Shivji/CBC)© Provided by cbc.ca

"The boats were sinking and everyone was helpless. You couldn't see further than five metres in front of you. The rain was so intense and the air was moving so fast."

Santosh Koli said compensation from the Indian government for those whose boats were destroyed was slow to arrive, with some fishermen receiving only a small fraction of the losses they sustained.

One of the few fishermen to receive compensation, Jitendra Koli, still had to pay a substantial amount out of pocket.



Boats damaged by previous cyclones sit near the dock, in northern Mumbai's Madh island area, serving as a reminder of the effects of warming ocean temperatures on this small community. (Salimah Shivji/CBC)© Provided by cbc.ca

"It's nice that the Modi government helped us, but things are still challenging," he said, especially since the money took nearly two years to be doled out and his new boat is under repair.

"Living in fear about what comes next is tough."

He added that strong and well-maintained boats are now essential with the changing weather conditions since the fishermen need to venture "pretty far, 10 to 15 kilometres" and away from their traditional fishing grounds to search for the haul they need to make a living.

Several Koli communities that dot the Mumbai coastline are also pressuring the government to build breakwaters to shelter their docked boats from increasingly intense storms.


Jitendra Koli, whose boat was destroyed in the last major cyclone that hit Mumbai, says living with the fear of what extreme weather conditions will come from the warming Arabian Sea is difficult for his fishing community. (Salimah Shivji/CBC)© Provided by cbc.ca

But, according to 42-year old Santosh Koli, the changing seas are having a deeper impact on his community from which it will be harder to recover.

"So many are losing fishing days that they are giving up and going to towers and other buildings to apply for work as security guards to save their livelihoods," he said.


There are also several Mumbai fishing villages that are being squeezed by large-scale construction projects interfering with their fishing, particularly the sprawling city's billion-dollar coastal road that aims to reduce Mumbai's crippling traffic.

Sanjay Baikar, 47, said his fishing village, near a wharf tucked along the coast of Mumbai's Worli neighbourhood, has lost much of its traditional land to the construction project.


The good days with healthy fish catchs are less frequent, according to members of Mumbai's Koli community. (Salimah Shivji/CBC)© Provided by cbc.ca

Now, officials also want the small boats parked near the wharf removed.

"The authorities have been able to find a place for cars [with the coastal road construction], they care deeply about parking, they have a place to build gardens, but they have no place for our fishing community and our boats," Baikar told CBC News.

"Our future as fishermen, as well as the future of our families and kids, is already in danger.

"And there is nothing we can do."
Improved employment policies can encourage fathers to be more involved at home

Story by Kim de Laat, Sociologist and Assistant Professor at the Stratford School of Interaction Design and Business, University of Waterloo, 
Andrea Doucet, Professor and Canada Research Chair in Gender, Work, and Care, Brock University, a
Alyssa K Gerhardt, PhD Candidate, Department of Sociology and Social Anthropology, Dalhousie University • 

Too few Canadian fathers take parental leave. That's because parental leave is framed as an employment policy rather than as care/work policy that promotes greater sharing of both paid and unpaid care work between parents.

While the COVID-19 pandemic had many detrimental socio-economic and health impacts, one silver lining has been the influence of remote work on men’s involvement in unpaid work at home.

Since the first pandemic lockdowns in 2020, between 25 and 40 per cent of the Canadian labour force has shifted to working remotely. Evidence suggests remote and hybrid work arrangements are here to stay; 80 per cent of those who work remotely want to continue working at least several days per week at home.

Our research finds that Canadian fathers who worked remotely during the pandemic reported higher levels of involvement in household work and child care. Remote work and other flexible work policies may play a crucial role in encouraging a more equitable distribution of household and care work within families.

Remote work isn’t the only policy pathway that facilitates men’s involvement at home. Our research finds that fathers who have previously taken parental leave report sharing a wider set of household work and child-care tasks with their partners.

But there is a catch: access to these policies is limited in ways that diminish their full potential. Part of the problem stems from the way parental leave and remote work policies are structured.

They are framed as employment policies, rather than as care/work policies that can promote greater sharing of both paid and unpaid care work between parents. This framing limits access to both sets of policies.

Parental leave in Canada


While Canada is regarded as a country with generous parental leave provisions, especially when compared to the United States, its parental leave policies can be exclusionary.

Outside of Québec, parental leave programs have low wage replacement rates and restrictive eligibility criteria. Paternity leave is both low-paid (five to eight weeks at a 33 to 55 per cent wage-replacement rate) and contingent on mothers (or birthing parents) also taking leave rather than being designed as an individual entitlement.

Read more: How one province got 80 per cent of fathers to take paternity leave

These differences exclude many low-income parents from receiving parental leave benefits.

In addition, top-up wages are highly uneven throughout Canada. Some employers don’t enhance the wage replacement rates for parental leave (70 to 75 per cent in Québec and 33 to 55 per cent in the rest of Canada).

Others, especially those in federally regulated industries, the public sector and large private sector companies, top-up wage replacement rates to as high as 93 per cent. In many contexts, however, top-ups are limited solely to mothers, which disincentivizes fathers from taking parental leave.

Flexible work arrangements in Canada

Flexible work arrangements have a less complex policy architecture than parental leave policies, but they share its drawback of uneven access. Aside from those who are self-employed, the decision-making power for remote work lies with employers.

As of December 2017, employees in all federally regulated sectors in Canada can request a flexible work arrangement under the Canada Labour Code after six months of continuous employment.

However, managers maintain the right to refuse requests for flexible work arrangements if they believe their use will be detrimental to the quality or quantity of an employee’s work. This results in different standards being applied to different employees and means that access depends on managers’ opinions about remote work and its effect on productivity.

While there is no clear-cut evidence that working remotely hinders productivity, stereotypes of remote workers as unambitious persist and prevent men and women alike from gaining access.
Who benefits from these policies?

Constraints around policy access and eligibility mean parental leave and remote work are set up to benefit those who already enjoy socio-economic privileges, such as those who receive hefty wage top-ups and those in high-ranking positions who don’t need to worry about managerial biases.

To ensure more people benefit from parental leave and flexible work policies, our study suggests they must provide greater support for more people’s work and care lives.

In terms of flexible work arrangements, the right to remote work should acknowledge the diverse caregiving needs and responsibilities of all individuals, including fathers. One step in this direction would be to frame flexible work policies as a human right available to all workers, regardless of parental or gender status, to mitigate the stigma associated with working remotely and encourage widespread use.



Remote work privileges should take into account the caregiving obligations of everyone, including fathers.

When it comes to parental leave, the evidence is clear: from 2019 to 2020, only 23.5 per cent of recent fathers living outside of Québec took (or intended to take) parental or paternity leave, compared to 85.6 percent of fathers in Québec. If the rest of Canada adopted Québec’s more inclusive policy framework, we could narrow the gendered gap in parental leave access.

While the COVID-19 pandemic created extraordinary uncertainty and unpredictability in employment, it also introduced new ways of thinking about paid and unpaid work and how to support people’s work and care lives.

If more Canadians are to harness the benefits of parental leave and remote work, we need to design employment and care policies in ways that recognize individuals of all gender identities as not just workers, but as caregivers and care receivers throughout their lives.

This article is republished from The Conversation, >, a nonprofit, independent news organization bringing you facts and analysis to help you make sense of our complex world.


Read more:
Holiday co-parenting after separation or divorce: 6 legal and practical tips for surviving and thriving

Low-income families should not lose child-care subsidies while on parental leave

Kim de Laat receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada.

Alyssa K Gerhardt receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada.

Andrea Doucet receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada.
Fossil of enormous sea monster and 'ultimate killing machine' discovered by scientists

Story by Catherine Shuttleworth • 

Fossil of enormous sea monster and 'ultimate killing machine' discovered by scientists

The skull of a colossal sea monster has been extracted from the cliffs of Dorset's Jurassic Coast.

The pliosaur was a marine reptile that terrorised the oceans roughly 150 million years ago. The fossil is two metres long and one of the most complete specimens of its type ever discovered.Palaeontologist Steve Etches told BBC News "it's one of the best fossils I've ever worked on. What makes it unique is it's complete."

"The lower jaw and the upper skull are meshed together, as they would be in life. Worldwide, there's hardly any specimens ever found to that level of detail. And if they are, a lot of the bits are missing, whereas this, although it's slightly distorted - it's got every bone present."

You really get a sense of how big the creature was when you realise the skull is longer than most humans are tall.

The fossil has 130 teeth, each tooth marked with fine ridges. These would have helped the pliosaur to pierce the flesh and then quickly extract its dagger-like fangs, ready for a rapid second attack.

"The animal would have been so massive that I think it would have been able to prey effectively on anything that was unfortunate enough to be in its space," says Dr Andre Rowe from Bristol University.

"I have no doubt that this was sort of like an underwater T. rex."

Fossil enthusiast Phil Jacobs came across the tip of the snout of the pliosaur lying in the shingle after a stroll along a beach near Kimmeridge Bay. Too heavy to carry, he rigged a makeshift stretcher to take the fossil fragment to safety with Steve Etches.

The soul will be featured in a special David Attenborough programme 'Attenborough and the Giant Sea Monster' on BBC One on New Year's Day.

Licence plates to raise money for MMIWG2S

Story by The Canadian Press • 1d

The Manitoba Métis Federation’s Infinity Women Secretariat is applauding the provincial government’s decision to sell specialty licence plates in support of Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women, Girls, and Two-Spirited people.

On Friday, the Manitoba government announced the plates would be available for purchase at Autopac agents across the province. Thirty dollars from the sale of each set of place, which cost $70, will go toward supporting Ka Ni Kanichihk, a Winnipeg-based Indigenous-led organization.


Adrienne Carriere, the vice-spokesperson for the Manitoba Métis Federation’s Infinity Women Secretariat, was present at the announcement on Friday and said it moved her deeply.

“We heard from three family members about the importance and the significance of this work that’s being done by the families — work that’s been started by the families and has been propelled forward,” Carriere told the Sun. “It was an extremely beautiful ceremony.”

The licence plates will be a powerful stimulus for grassroots education and efforts to prevent the issue of MMIWG2S and is very significant for families who have been affected, she said.

“It’s an epidemic, and its been an epidemic for a long time, so this is another step in that process to continue to advocate and hopefully, at some point, not have to have these kinds of things.”

Housing, Addictions and Homelessness Minister Bernadette Smith said she introduced the bill to create the licence plates on behalf of MMIWG2S families as it is very close to her heart and has impacted her own family.

“We wanted to make sure other Manitobans recognized the significant impact of the reality we face. Ka Ni Kanichihk has incredible programs that support families who have been impacted by the loss of missing and murdered loved ones,” she said. “This will truly make a difference in our community.”

Dodie Jordaan, executive director of Ka Ni Kanichihk, said the licence-plate initiative not only raises awareness about MMIWG2S, but also provides support to Ka Ni Kanichik’s programs towards education.

“Together, we drive change, honouring the lives of missing and murdered Indigenous women, girls and 2SLGBTQ+ while supporting survivors and communities on the path to healing and justice,” she said.

Smith’s bill, called Bill 204, received royal assent on May 30 and unanimous support from all parties. If all the 6,000 plates available are sold, Ka Ni Kanichihk will receive $180,000 by springtime, Justice Minister Matt Wiebe, the minister responsible for Manitoba Public Insurance, said.

Miranda Leybourne, Local Journalism Initiative Reporter, Brandon Sun