Maybe today or tomorrow they can kill me. Please help us.
Somewhere between the desperation of flight and the finality of a death sentence, sixty-five Ethiopian men wait in a Saudi detention facility, condemned for carrying a plant that is legal in their homeland. Swept up in the machinery of a migration crisis and tried without translators, lawyers, or comprehension of the charges against them, they were sentenced to death for a crime many did not know they were committing. Their plight illuminates a collision between sovereign law and universal human dignity — one that the international community has, so far, chosen not to interrupt.
- Three men were taken from their cell on April 21, 2026, under the pretense of a court hearing and executed without any warning given to their families — leaving the remaining sixty-five to wake each morning not knowing if it will be their last.
- Many of these men fled the Tigray conflict and carried khat — a mild stimulant legal in Ethiopia and Yemen — simply to survive the journey, unaware that Saudi Arabia classifies its active compound as a capital offense.
- Their trials were procedural catastrophes: group hearings, no legal counsel, no translation, beatings by security officials, and documents signed in a language they could not read — with guilt and a death sentence revealed only at the final moment.
- Saudi Arabia executed 356 people in 2025, with 68 percent of those sentences tied to nonlethal drug offenses — a rate that international human rights law explicitly prohibits, yet no binding accountability mechanism has been triggered.
- Ethiopia's government has not intervened with meaningful force, consular access has been blocked, and the men have no avenue of appeal — their only recourse is a plea passed through informal channels to a world that has not yet answered.
Sixty-five Ethiopian men sit in the Khamis Mushait detention facility in Saudi Arabia's Asir region, each condemned to death for drug offenses — many of them for carrying khat, a mild stimulant plant that is legal and culturally commonplace in Ethiopia and Yemen. On April 21, 2026, three of their fellow detainees were removed from the cell under the pretense of a court appearance and executed without warning. The survivors now live inside that knowledge.
Most of these men were not traffickers in any meaningful sense. Many fled the devastating armed conflict in Ethiopia's Tigray region, and to fund or survive the dangerous journey across the Gulf of Aden and through Yemen into Saudi Arabia, they carried khat — sometimes under coercion from smugglers who made it a condition of passage. None understood that cathinone, khat's active compound, is banned in Saudi Arabia and classified as a capital offense.
The legal proceedings that condemned them were stripped of every protection international law requires. Tried in groups, sometimes by video link, the men had no lawyers, no translators, and no comprehension of the charges. Security officials beat them during hearings and compelled them to sign documents in Arabic. Only at the final hearing, when a translator appeared for the first time, were they informed they had been convicted of drug smuggling and sentenced to death. One judge told them they would serve as an example.
Human Rights Watch documented these cases through informed sources and found the pattern to be systemic. Saudi Arabia executed 345 people in 2024 — a record — and surpassed it with 356 in 2025, with roughly 68 percent of those executions tied to nonlethal drug crimes. The United Nations Working Group on Arbitrary Detention has stated plainly that executing people for drug offenses violates international legal standards. Since Mohammed bin Salman became crown prince in 2017 — the same year he pledged to reduce capital punishment — more than 2,000 people have been executed in the kingdom.
The men at Khamis Mushait have no lawyers, no appeal process, and no consular support; Ethiopian officials have not intervened with any meaningful force. One detainee, his words passed through an informed source, said simply: 'Last week, three of our friends were killed — maybe today or the day after tomorrow they can kill me. Please help us.' That plea has so far met silence.
Sixty-five Ethiopian migrants are waiting to die in a Saudi Arabian prison, condemned for carrying drugs they often did not know were illegal. Three of their cellmates were executed on April 21, 2026, taken from their cell under the pretense of a court hearing and killed without warning to their families. The remaining men now live in the knowledge that any morning could be their last.
These are not drug lords or traffickers in the conventional sense. Many fled the brutal armed conflict that ravaged Ethiopia's Tigray region between 2020 and 2022, seeking refuge and work. To survive the perilous journey across the Gulf of Aden, through Yemen, and into Saudi Arabia, they carried khat—a mild stimulant plant native to East Africa, culturally consumed and legal in Ethiopia and Yemen. Some were forced by smugglers to transport it as a condition of passage. None understood that in Saudi Arabia, where cathinone, the active ingredient in khat, is banned, they were committing a capital crime.
The trials that condemned them to death were exercises in procedural devastation. Held in groups and sometimes by video link, the men had no lawyers, no translators to explain the charges against them, and no understanding of what they were accused of doing. Security officials beat them during hearings and forced them to sign documents written in a language they could not read. Only when a translator appeared at the final hearing were they told they had been found guilty of drug smuggling and sentenced to death. One judge told them they would serve as an example to others. For more than two years, they have been held in the Khamis Mushait detention facility in the Asir region, unable to appeal, unable to contact their families, unable to receive visits from Ethiopian consular officials.
Human Rights Watch, which documented these cases through interviews with informed sources, describes a system that treats foreign migrants as disposable. The organization found that approximately 65 Ethiopian men share cells at Khamis Mushait, all sentenced to death for drug-related offenses. Media reports suggest over 200 Ethiopians await execution there, though the exact number cannot be independently verified. Hundreds more are believed to be held in other facilities.
Saudi Arabia's execution rate has become staggering. In 2024, the kingdom carried out 345 executions—a record. In 2025, it surpassed that with 356. The surge was driven largely by executions for nonlethal drug crimes, which accounted for roughly 68 percent of all capital sentences that year. This pattern directly contradicts international human rights law, which restricts the death penalty to the most serious crimes—typically those involving death or severe bodily harm. The United Nations Working Group on Arbitrary Detention has explicitly stated that executing people for drug offenses violates international legal standards and falls outside the scope of permissible capital punishment.
King Salman bin Abdulaziz ascended the throne in January 2015 and appointed his son Mohammed bin Salman as crown prince in June 2017. Since then, more than 2,000 people have been executed in Saudi Arabia. In 2018, the crown prince pledged to curtail the use of capital punishment. Instead, executions have accelerated, expanding to include child defendants, disproportionate numbers of foreign nationals, and people punished for exercising freedom of expression.
The broader context is one of systematic abuse. Hundreds of thousands of Ethiopians work in Saudi Arabia, many driven by economic desperation, others fleeing government persecution. Human Rights Watch has documented for years the human rights violations they endure along the migration route. In 2023, the organization found evidence that Saudi border guards had killed at least hundreds of Ethiopian migrants and asylum seekers attempting to cross from Yemen—a pattern that, if part of official policy, would constitute a crime against humanity. Detention conditions in Saudi facilities are routinely found to amount to inhuman and degrading treatment.
One man held at Khamis Mushait, quoted through an informed source, captured the terror of his situation: "Last week, three of our friends were killed, maybe today or the day after tomorrow they can kill me. Please help us." His plea reflects not just personal fear but the complete absence of protection or recourse. Ethiopia's Foreign Affairs Ministry has not intervened with meaningful force. The men have no lawyers. They have no appeal process. They have no consular support. They have only the knowledge that their execution could come at any moment, and that the international community has so far done nothing to stop it.
Citações Notáveis
Saudi Arabia's willingness to execute foreign migrants for nonviolent offences following trials that denied them basic due process reflects a profound disregard for their rights and lives.— Nadia Hardman, senior refugee and migrant rights researcher at Human Rights Watch
You will be an example to others.— Saudi judge, sentencing the three men to death
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why would someone carry khat if they knew it could get them killed?
They didn't know. Khat is legal and culturally normal where they come from. They were desperate—fleeing war, needing money to survive the journey. Some were forced by smugglers. The illegality was invisible to them until they were arrested.
But surely the trials would have explained the charges?
There were no real trials. A few brief hearings, sometimes by video. No lawyers, no translators until the very end. They were beaten and forced to sign documents in a language they couldn't read. The judge told them they'd be examples to others, then sentenced them to death.
How long have they been waiting?
Over two years. No appeals, no execution date set, but they know it's coming. Three of their cellmates were taken out on April 21 and executed without warning. The guards told the remaining men afterward, just to let them know what could happen to them next.
Is this a new pattern in Saudi Arabia?
No, it's accelerating. Executions hit 345 in 2024, then 356 in 2025. Most of those are for drug crimes—nonlethal offenses. International law says you can only execute people for the most serious crimes. Drug smuggling doesn't meet that threshold, but Saudi Arabia doesn't recognize that limit.
What's Ethiopia doing about its citizens?
Almost nothing. The men have had no contact with Ethiopian consular officials. Their government hasn't intervened with any force. They're essentially abandoned—caught between a country that won't protect them and a legal system designed to execute them.
Is there any way out?
Not through the system. They have no lawyers, no appeals process, no recourse. The only hope is international pressure—other governments using their leverage to push Saudi Arabia to stop. But so far, that pressure hasn't materialized.