For 700km, day and night, we slithered through the vast uninhabited Sahara desert, sleeping on top of Mauritania’s infamous iron ore train. Heading for the coast, we hoped to find a place of forgotten shipwrecks and unknown surf. By Jody MacDonald.

Finally, there it was. When we climbed to the top of the wagon, tired but excited, unsteady as our feet sunk in the heap of iron that filled it to the brim, my friend Ammar and I congratulated each other, our faces lit by the faint glow of each other’s headlamp. It was almost midnight… By Michael Huniewicz.

Female slaves in Mauritania have long suffered unimaginable pain and torment. Some are now free and have found the courage to speak out about their ordeals and their new lives.