Brazil hosts a G20 summit overshadowed by wars and Trump’s return, aiming for a deal to fight hunger

FERGUS FALLS, Minn. (AP) — A criminal network stretching from India to Canada made money smuggling families seeking better lives in the United States, including a man who died holding his 3-year-old son in gusting snow and bone-chilling temperatures two years ago, federal prosecutors plan to argue at a trial starting Monday in Minnesota.

Prosecutors have accused Indian national Harshkumar Ramanlal Patel, 29, of running the scheme and Steve Shand, 50, of Florida of waiting in a truck for 11 migrants, including the couple and two children who died after they tried to walk across the border to the U.S.

Prosecutors say Patel recruited Shand at a casino near their homes in Deltona, Florida, just north of Orlando.

Jagdish Patel, 39, died along with his wife, Vaishaliben, who was in her mid-30s, and with their 11-year-old daughter, Vihangi and their 3-year-old son Dharmik. Patel is a common Indian surname and the victims were not related to Harshkumar Patel, who has pleaded not guilty, as has Shand.

The family, from the village of Dingucha in Gujarat state, is believed to have spent hours wandering fields in blizzard conditions as the wind chill reached minus 36 Fahrenheit (minus 38 Celsius). Canadian authorities found the Patels’ frozen bodies on the morning of Jan. 19, 2022. Jagdish Patel was holding Dharmik, who was wrapped in a blanket.

Federal prosecutors say Patel and Shand were part of an operation that scouted clients in India, got them Canadian student visas, arranged transportation and smuggled them into the U.S., mostly through Washington state or Minnesota.

The U.S. Border Patrol arrested more than 14,000 Indians on the Canadian border in the year ending Sept. 30. By 2022, the Pew Research Center estimates there were more than 725,000 Indians living illegally in the U.S., behind only Mexicans and El Salvadorans.

Harshkumar Patel’s attorney, Thomas Leinenweber, told The Associated Press that his client came to America to escape poverty and build a better life for himself and now “stands unjustly accused of participating in this horrible crime. He has faith in the justice system of his adopted country and believes that the truth will come out at the trial.” Attorneys for Shand did not return messages.

Court documents filed by prosecutors show Patel was in the U.S. illegally after being refused a U.S. visa at least five times.

Over a five-week period, court documents say, Patel and Shand often communicated about the bitter cold as they smuggled five groups of Indians over a quiet stretch of border. One night in December 2021, Shand messaged Patel that it was “cold as hell” while waiting to pick up one group, the documents say.

“They going to be alive when they get here?” he allegedly wrote.

During the last trip in January, Shand had messaged Patel, saying: “Make sure everyone is dressed for the blizzard conditions, please,” according to prosecutors.

Prosecutors say Shand told investigators that Patel paid him about $25,000 for the five trips.

Jagdish Patel grew up in Dingucha. He and family lived with his parents. The couple were schoolteachers, according to local news reports.

Satveer Chaudhary is a Minneapolis-based immigration attorney who has helped migrants exploited by motel owners, many of them Gujaratis. He said smugglers and shady business interests promised many migrants an American dream that doesn’t exist when they arrive.

“The promises of the almighty dollar lead many people to take unwarranted risks with their own dignity, and as we’re finding out here, their own lives,” Chaudary said.

The Canadian Press. All rights reserved.

MADISON, Wis. (AP) — The Wisconsin Supreme Court will hear arguments Monday that could determine whether the swing state’s top elections official, who has been the target of disproven Republican election conspiracy theories, will remain in her post.

Republicans who control the state Senate tried to fire Wisconsin Elections Commission Administrator Meagan Wolfe last year, leading the commission to sue in an effort to keep Wolfe on the job.

The commission argues that the state Supreme Court should uphold a lower court’s ruling in Wolfe’s favor, which would allow her to remain in her position and not face a confirmation vote by the Senate.

But Republican lawmakers argue that the commission must appoint a commissioner, either Wolfe or someone else, so the Senate can vote on confirming that person. Wolfe can’t be allowed to remain in the position as a holdover, they contend.

Wolfe was first appointed for the nonpartisan position in 2018 and confirmed to a four-year term by the GOP-controlled state Senate in 2019. The commission is overseen by a bipartisan board that is evenly split between Republicans and Democrats, and Wolfe is head of the nonpartisan staff.

Wolfe was targeted for removal by Republican lawmakers who were unhappy with the 2020 presidential election won by President Joe Biden. President-elect Donald Trump won Wisconsin this year, just as he did in 2016. Unlike after his loss in 2020, Trump backers are not alleging widespread fraud in this year’s election.

Wolfe was the subject of conspiracy theories and targeted by threats from election skeptics who falsely claim she was part of a plot to rig the 2020 vote in favor of Biden. Biden’s win by nearly 21,000 votes in Wisconsin withstood two partial recounts, a nonpartisan audit, a conservative law firm’s review, and multiple state and federal lawsuits.

When Wolfe was up for reappointment in 2023, all six members of the commission voiced support for her. Three Republicans voted to reappoint, but the three Democrats abstained, resulting in a deadlocked vote. Had she gotten a fourth vote in support, her appointment would have been sent to the Senate, which then could have voted to fire her.

Even though her appointment was not forwarded to the Senate, Republican senators voted in September 2023 to fire Wolfe over objections from Democrats and the Legislature’s nonpartisan attorneys. They argued that the Senate didn’t have the authority to vote at that time because Wolfe was a holdover in her position and had not been reappointed.

The commission sued to challenge that Senate vote. Republican legislative leaders changed course and claimed in court filings that their vote to fire Wolfe was merely “symbolic” and had no legal effect.

Republicans asked the judge to order the elections commission to appoint an administrator for the Senate to vote on.

Dane County Circuit Court Judge Ann Peacock, in a 2023 ruling, said Wolfe is legally serving as administrator of the elections commission as a holdover given that the commission did not have a majority vote to appoint her. The Senate’s vote to remove her had no legal effect and the commission has no duty to appoint a new leader while Wolfe is serving as a holdover, Peacock ruled.

Republican leaders of the Legislature appealed and the state Supreme Court will hear arguments Monday. It will issue a decision weeks or months from now.

Wolfe was asked about the case during a news conference the day after this month’s election and whether she was committed to remaining in her position “for the long haul.” She made no promises.

“I’m completely committed to seeing through this election and making sure that this election is certified,” Wolfe said.

The state Senate is charged with voting on approving appointees such as Wolfe. However, the GOP majority starting in January will shrink from 22-11 to 18-15 as a result of this month’s election. That means Republicans can only lose one vote on their side and still have a majority.

The Canadian Press. All rights reserved.

KYIV, Ukraine (AP) — Before Russia’s invasion, this was an ordinary green lawn in the heart of Ukraine’s capital. Tourists would visit to take photos, and locals would stroll there on weekends.

But 1,000 days of war have transformed it into a makeshift memorial, dotted with blue-and-yellow flags — each honoring a soldier who died fighting Russia. Many were volunteers who left their civilian lives behind to answer to defend their country.

Their loved ones, left alone with grief, hope their sacrifices won’t be forgotten. They plant small, simple flags, hand-marked with the names and dates they died. Over time, the flags have multiplied, fluttering in the wind as the seasons change and the war drags on.

“I put it so that someone might pass by and see that this person once lived and gave their life for us,” said Svitlana Kirichenko, who traveled from Cherkasy to replace the weathered flag she had planted over a year ago in honor of her son, who died fighting. She carefully placed a new one in its place.

“So we can live peacefully among our own people, and not have Russians dictate how we should live and what to do.”

Associated Press archives show that the first flags appeared on the lawn in May of the war’s first year, shortly after Russian forces withdrew from the Kyiv region and the capital was no longer under the threat of occupation. Photos from that time show dozens of flags neatly arranged in rows across the grassy field.

As the war continued, the place has transformed. The grass has faded away, replaced by well-worn paths resembling those in a cemetery, winding through thousands of flags. Among them, many portraits have appeared — brought by relative — showing confident, smiling faces in military uniforms.

Svitlana Kanevska, cloaked in a black hood against the drizzly autumn rain, bent over a portrait of her boyfriend, Serhii Ivanytskyi, who had died months earlier in eastern Ukraine. The photo — a selfie he had sent her during one of their chats — showed him standing in a sunlit Ukrainian field. Kanevska carefully wiped droplets from the image.

Since Serhii joined the army early in the war, their time together had been scarce, mostly confined to messages. He kept his location and activities hidden, and their conversations centered largely on love.

Last December, during a brief leave in Kyiv, they passed by this very memorial. “He said he felt so sorry for the guys,” Kanevska recalled. He was killed in the summer of 2024.

“You feel so much pain that you don’t know where to go or what to do,” she said. That’s what brought her here months ago, to place his flag and photo among the countless others. Kanevska, who works nearby, often visits to mourn.

She’s not alone. The place is strewn with fresh and dried flowers, a concentration of grief and an epicenter of Ukrainian history. Independence Square, after all, has long been the heart of Ukraine’s revolutions. For many, it is the only fitting place for their loved ones to be remembered.

City authorities have no control over this memorial. It was created by people themselves, driven by a deep need to honor their fallen in the absence of an official government memorial.

Soldiers and families come here to sit for long stretches, gazing quietly into the distance. New flags are added almost daily.

Nearby, funeral ceremonies take place almost every day, followed by moments of silence. Passersby stop, kneel and observe in quiet reverence. But soon, life in the capital moves on, returning to its usual pace.

The memorial keeps growing with each passing day, a reminder of the price Ukraine pays for its freedom.

“If someone thinks of him, it brings him light where he is. He knows he hasn’t been forgotten,” said Andrii Pedychenko, who came to the memorial to put a new flag for his friend who was killed in action about one year ago. “Each flag is a tragedy. And it reminds us that this is just a small piece because there wouldn’t be enough space here for everyone.”

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