Rahmatalla Abdeen, 65, was so frail he could barely walk, but he knew if the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) found him, he'd be shot. For two days, he clung to the back of a moped as it navigated militia-infested territory. On May 17, he became the last known refugee to cross from Sudan into Ethiopia, hoping to reunite with his wife and three daughters after 883 days apart. But Sudan's metastasizing conflict is gradually destabilizing the entire region, and Ethiopia - Africa's second-most populous country - has been dragged in. A vast clandestine RSF training camp has emerged at an Ethiopian military base near Asosa, just 10 miles from the Ura refugee camp housing 14,500 Sudanese who fled the RSF. Refugees like Khadijah Ahmed, 42, recall the militia's chilling threat: "We will follow you, wherever you go." Her sons sleep under their beds, just as they did in Khartoum. Dawud Suliman, 31, lost 25 family members in Darfur and now fears the RSF is compiling kill lists inside Ethiopia. Meanwhile, Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed cruised to another election victory on June 21, with experts warning his new term may bring fresh bloodshed - a resurgence of civil war with Tigray, a bid for Eritrea's Red Sea ports, or a catastrophic regional war involving the Sudanese military, Tigray separatists, Eritrea, and Egypt. Diplomats hope mutual assured destruction will keep the peace, but not everyone is optimistic. Yet, three days before the election, Ethiopia launched Makatet - meaning "inclusion" in Amharic - a pioneering project to transform its 1.1 million refugees into social and economic assets by giving them access to education, healthcare, and work. Barham Salih, the new UN refugee chief and former Iraqi president, calls it the most ambitious attempt yet to address global displacement. "We need to make the refugee population more self-reliant," he says. "The nature of humanitarianism needs to be redefined." In Ura camp, residents like Yousif Babiker, 49, who used to supervise housekeeping at Khartoum's five-star Hilton, hope for education and careers for their children. Abdeen's daughter Ruaa Idris, 23, dreams of becoming a gynecologist: "Given a chance I will catch it with my teeth." In the Gambela region, the Jewi camp holds 70,000 Nuer refugees from South Sudan, who face attacks from locals and fear drones. Yet optimism abounds: one soap business has made 168,475 bars and £30,000; Miriam Abdallah, 48, runs a perfume line; and Sowa Belle, 36, plans a chain of eateries called Mama Sowa. Western policymakers are watching closely. Salih warns, "We simply cannot look away while we see displacement piling on year after year." For Idris, the question remains: "What's the point of safety without living?"