I am haunted by the dead who sleep beneath waters. There are so many of them by now. Mothers and fathers, small children, young boys who were journeying with the hopes of sending back money to their families. I am haunted by the photos they carried, of brothers and sisters, neighbors and childhood loves. By their voices, their languages.
People are dying at a terrifying rate on migration routes around the world. A recent report by the International Organization for Migration estimated that 82,000 human beings have drowned or disappeared since 2014. In January and February of 2026 alone, there were 600 migrant deaths at sea. And people are not only dying in the water. Six people were recently found dead in a railway car in Texas, the youngest only 14 years old.
I am scared for my own children. I am frightened that they will grow up in a world in which 82,000 human beings can die or disappear, their deaths met with so much silence.
