Revisited

The Swat Valley, a picturesque region of Pakistan, was briefly controlled by the Taliban before they were driven out by the army in 2009. For nearly a year now, the region locals call the "Pakistani Switzerland" has been opening up to tourists again, but the Islamist militant threat remains present in the valley – and in people’s minds. Our reporters returned to Swat. Located amidst the lush green mountains of the Hindu Kush, the Swat Valley in northern Pakistan was always a tourist spot for foreigners in search of peace, calm and historical expeditions, but the Taliban’s capture of the region in 2007 and the subsequent military operation in 2009 changed the landscape. It became a no-go area even for Pakistanis as Mullah Fazlullah, who currently heads the Pakistani Taliban, took over.

Mullah Fazlullah escaped the military, and currently lives somewhere in the tribal belt, on the Pakistani-Afghan border. Due to his war with the Pakistani state, more than 2.5 million people were displaced from their homes.

The Pakistan Army continues to control the region, which is dotted with military checkpoints, especially at all of the valley's entry and exit points.

But the terrorist threat still looms.

The Taliban now have a new strategy: targeting and killing the influential people of Swat. Such killings, which are carried out in an organised and meticulous manner, have seen an uptick in the last 24 months – one reason Malala Yousafzai, the Nobel Peace Laureate, continues to live in the United Kingdom in self-imposed exile, after she survived an assassination attempt by the Taliban in 2012.

Despite such fears, a majority of the 2.5 million of the region's displaced people have now returned to their homeland in the hope of rebuilding their lives, but find the military expanding its footprint everywhere. Pakistani forces have multiple bases in the valley, and plan to expand them. They have also launched a housing colony on some of the land that they occupied during the operation or have acquired since. The compensation being offered to the local evictees – some of whom are being forced off their land – is nominal. Many do not want to sell, as such agricultural land is their only livelihood.

However, there is some new hope for one segment of the Swat community: the region's women, who have started to reclaim the positions they lost under the Taliban. For nearly a decade, they were not allowed to leave their homes. Now, many are counting on women to bring order back to the society, as men have failed to do in the past. Some lead women-only jirgas (traditional assembies of leaders according to the teachings of Islam, making decisions by consensus) – the first of their kinds. Others have become lawyers to represent women in the courts – a profession that the women of Swat had never before considered.

>> Also watch our report: "Fighting for women's rights in Swat Valley"

Will the women prevail and make the Swat Valley the "Pakistani Switzerland" people remember it to be? Will the state’s efforts to revive tourism actually bring visitors?

We “revisit” to find out.

Some 15 years ago, Zimbabwe was hit by an economic meltdown. White farmers, who owned large farms, had their land expropriated and redistributed. This move had been promised by President Mugabe, who has been in power since 1980. But the new owners lacked experience on how to run the farms, leading to a massive drop in production. In 2009, inflation reached astronomical levels. Today, although the situation has stabilised, Zimbabweans still live in fear of a return to hyperinflation.

More than five years after its independence, South Sudan, the world’s youngest nation, is plagued by civil war. The regular army and rebel troops have been fighting since 2013. Tens of thousands of civilians have been killed in the brutal conflict and up to three million displaced. When South Sudan celebrated its independence from Sudan in 2011, its citizens celebrated the birth of their new nation together. A long war had ended; people could finally dream of a better future. But in 2013, civil war broke out. The regular army, which takes orders from President Salva Kiir, opposed the rebel troops of Vice President Riek Machar. What began as a political conflict became an ethnic one. Torture, assassinations, gang rape, enlisting of child soldiers... the atrocities have become widespread.

In April 2016, the climate seemed to improve. Kiir invited Machar to return to Juba to resume his post as vice-president. A fragile peace took hold, but was broken less than three months later. In July, fresh clashes shook the capital. Machar had to flee again, with Juba in flames. Many civilians were killed, including inside a UN internally displaced persons camp. Unable to ensure their security, the UN peacekeepers were forced to retreat.

Since then, the South Sudanese live in fear of a new attack, or a new massacre. The UN even fears that a genocide will take place in the country if nothing is done to stop the violence.

Appalling living conditions in UN camp

Travel in South Sudan is very difficult. The country has no proper roads, and the dirt tracks that connect cities are regularly targeted by armed gangs. The only solution to reach the north of the country - where we filmed part of this report - is to board a UN plane carrying peacekeepers.

On arrival, we discover that Malakal, once the country’s second-largest city, is totally isolated. There is no longer a phone network and virtually all the vehicles have been destroyed. We borrow one of the few cars still in working condition to get around the almost deserted city.

In Malakal, the fighting has been particularly violent. Suspicions are high among ethnic groups, with everyone fearing new fighting. Tens of thousands of civilians still live under UN protection, confined to a camp that is supposed to protect them. But there is a lack of food and the living conditions are appalling.

Some people decide to flee and board boats to sail up the Nile towards the rebel zones. We join them and reach the first city in the north, Wau-Shilluk. Many have taken refuge there, hoping to be protected from their government. All of them hope to return to Malakal one day. But since the fighting is never far away, they seem doomed to remain in this area wedged between the Nile and the marshland.

Nearly 15 years after the deadly eruption of the Nyiragongo volcano and four years after the M23 rebel offensive, Goma is still tending its wounds. Amid uneven reconstruction efforts, the stability of the largest city in eastern DR Congo remains fragile. Mehdi Meddeb and Maxime Souville report. The volcanoes are one side, Lake Kivu on the other. Today sees a fragile peace, while yesterday bore witness to war and insurgencies. Goma, it seems, is used to extremes. Bustling with construction work, the capital of North Kivu province, in the east of the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), is a city living on the edge. Goma faces multiple threats: an active volcano, a potential gas explosion under Lake Kivu, ethnic conflicts and political tensions. Moreover, with President Kabila’s mandate due to officially expire on Monday December 19, there is concern for the future.

Goma remains calm but tense. The city seems desperate to cling to peace, after so many years of insurgencies, forced exoduses, cholera epidemics and refugee influxes, which have all profoundly destabilised a region of strategic importance for Africa’s Great Lakes.

A major earthquake devastated the UNESCO world heritage city of Bam in Iran in December 2003. 26,000 people died and 30,000 were injured. Much of the city was destroyed, including its famed ancient citadel which dates back to the 7th century. Still grieving for their lost loved ones, today's inhabitants are nonetheless battling to rebuild their celebrated city. FRANCE 24 went to meet Bam's citizens, who are hoping that tourists will return to this important historical city.

With Italy still reeling from a series of earthquakes that started in August, FRANCE 24 returned to the city of L'Aquila, which was devastated by a massive quake in 2009. Seven years later, people are still waiting for their homes to be rebuilt. Everyone in L'Aquila remembers the fateful night of April 6, 2009. At around 3:30am, a powerful magnitude 6.3 earthquake struck the capital of the Abruzzo region, in central Italy. A total of 309 people lost their lives and dozens more were injured. In the space of a few seconds, over 65,000 residents found themselves homeless and the historic city centre was destroyed. The damage was estimated at over 10 billion euros.

More than seven years later, the ruined city of L'Aquila seems frozen in time, a ghostly reminder of its former self. Most of its residents have never returned.

Our correspondent in Italy, Natalia Mendoza, went to meet families of victims as well as survivors who are unable to return home. They are still living in the suburbs, in emergency accommodation built after the quake. Our reporter also investigated why, despite hundreds of millions of euros of European funds being earmarked for L'Aquila's reconstruction, the process of rebuilding is so painfully slow.

>> See more FRANCE24.com: Devastating quake strikes central Italy

As Barack Obama’s second and final term draws to a close, our reporter returned to Chicago, the adopted hometown of the first black president of the United States. Despite an influx of tourists to the Windy City, violence has reached a record high. Many African-Americans feel nothing much has changed for them in the past eight years.

Fifteen years ago, just two days before the 9/11 attacks, Afghan military leader Ahmad Shah Massoud was assassinated. Nicknamed the "Lion of Panjshir" for the valley of northern Afghanistan he defended throughout his life - first against the Soviet invasion, then against the Taliban - he is still revered by locals. Today his son Ahmad appears ready to carry on his legacy. Our reporters went to meet the man emerging as the new leader of the Afghan mujahedeen.

To the outside world, it’s a country that does not exist. Or almost. Although Abkhazia seceded from Georgia and declared independence almost a quarter of a century ago, only a handful of countries recognise its existence, among them its powerful neighbour Russia. Our reporters returned to this small Caucasus republic, once nicknamed the "Pearl of the Black Sea", seeking international recognition. At the foot of the Caucasus Mountains, Abkhazia is a small territory of 240,000 inhabitants wedged between Georgia and Russia. At the time of the Soviet Union, it was an autonomous republic within the Georgian Soviet Socialist Republic. After the fall of the Soviet bloc in 1992, Abkhazia declared independence, at the cost of a war lasting over a year against the Georgian rulers. The conflict claimed the lives of over 15,000 people and led to the displacement of hundreds of thousands of Georgians. A trauma still remembered today.

Sixteen years later, in August 2008, when Georgia and Russia went to war for five days, Russia formally recognized Abkhazia, as well as South Ossetia, another breakaway republic of Georgia just a few thousand kilometres away. Tbilisi denounced a "blatant annexation" of its territory. This Russian recognition was quickly accompanied by a strengthening of Russia’s military presence and increased investment, including through the signature in 2014 of an "alliance and strategic partnership".

In the shadow of Moscow

Although the recognition of Abkhazia by Russia gives it a form of protection and economic development, it has more than anything made the small republic dependent on the Russian giant. Today, the Abkhazian state is recognized only by three other countries apart from Russia: Nicaragua, Venezuela and Nauru, a micro-state in the Pacific ... For the rest of the world, it is part of Georgia.

Our reporters visited this small piece of land with a subtropical climate and lush nature, once nicknamed the "Pearl of the Black Sea" and a favourite holiday destination of the Soviet intelligentsia. They met war veterans, politicians, businessmen and Russian tourists, and looked at how this tiny self-declared republic that lives in the shadow of Moscow is trying to evolve and assert its identity.

Despite its liberation by French forces in early 2013, Timbuktu is still fighting crime and terrorism. Aside from the presence of security and defence forces, public services are scarce or have only partially returned, and armed groups proliferate. Our reporter returned to this city full of history, an intellectual centre of Islam, which still bears the scars of jihadist occupation and where UN peacekeepers are trying their best to keep the peace. For more than 700 years, Timbuktu, the "Mysterious City", has been a key location for camel caravans. Before the Islamists seized control of it in 2012, this historical city in central Mali, on the edge of the Sahara desert, also attracted tourists from around the world. Since its liberation at the end of January 2013 after the intervention of French forces, Timbuktu has had a new lease of life, but the city is still struggling to recover from the dark period when Sharia law was applied to the letter. Ten months of repression, imprisonment, looting, rape and destruction – in particular of mausoleums classified as UNESCO World Heritage Sites – have left deep wounds.

Our report provides a rare overview of daily life for residents of the "Pearl of the Desert". Yehia, Mahamane and the other Malians we met denounce the insecurity that has taken root at the gates of the city and elsewhere in the region. Criminal attacks and bombings are increasing on the main roads, which are vital to the local economy. However, the police, gendarmes and national guard constantly patrol this famed city torn apart by violence. And 3,000 UN peacekeepers are deployed alongside a unit of the French army and the Malian defence forces, in order to fight against terrorist holdouts, drug trafficking and rampant crime.

Given the very real risk of kidnapping and murder, our exclusive report was made possible thanks to the armed protection of the UN’s MINUSMA peacekeepers.