Civilians are #NotATarget
- IHRC NEWSROOM
- Jun 15, 2019
- 7 min read
BANGLADESH – Cox’s Bazar, 14 March 2018. Portrait of Rabiya, 40. “We came here six months ago by boat, because military people were burning our houses and killing people. Many people died there. We lost everything – our land, our houses and animals. We now only survive thanks to the food aid. We don’t know if anything remains in our village. Our hope is to get justice one day.” ©UNOCHA/Vincent Tremeau
BANGLADESH – Hakimpara refugee camp, Cox’s Bazar, 16 March 2018. The camps in Bangladesh are now home to more than 900,000 Rohingya refugees who fled Myanmar. Most have been subjected to and/or have witnessed unspeakable atrocities. Some 52 per cent of Rohingya refugees in the camps are women and girls, and 55 per cent are children under 18 years of age. ©UNOCHA/Vincent Tremeau
Cox’s Bazar, 14 March 2018. Shahina is 22 years old and has three children. “My people have lived here for the past 90 years. Our neighbours are Rohingya. They arrived six months ago. When they came, they really had nothing. No food, no shelter. We provided them with food and cooking materials, before offering them to build their house on our land. Now we share food each time someone is cooking. They can stay as long as they want.” ©UNOCHA/Vincent Tremeau
Cox’s Bazar, 15 March 2018. Noor Mostafa, 16, runs a small restaurant with his brother Yasin. “When we were in Myanmar, we had a clothes store, but we had to leave everything behind. One day the military came and burned our shop. Our other brother died inside. On the same day, at night, we decided to leave and go to Bangladesh. It is just the two of us now. Why would we go back to Myanmar now? We don’t have anything left over there.” ©UNOCHA/Vincent Tremeau
Cox’s Bazar, 20 March 2018. Portrait of Nomtaz Begum, 30.“On a Wednesday morning, the military came to our village. They ordered us to stand in a field, and started shooting. They killed every man. They killed my two kids of 2.5 and 5 years old in front of my eyes before taking me inside. They started raping me. Six men in total. Then they set our house on fire while I was there. That is how I got burned. I only have one daughter left now. I feel I am going crazy.©UNOCHA/Vincent Tremeau
Cox’s Bazar, 20 March 2018. Portrait of Mohamad, 7. “It was night-time when military people came to our village. They were shooting everywhere. I was shot in the leg. It directly separated from my body. Now my leg is still in Myanmar! My parents covered my injuries with clothes and we went to hide in the jungle. After a few days, I was able to walk with this stick. We had to walk for nine days to come here to Bangladesh. When I grow up, I would like to become a doctor.” ©UNOCHA/Vincent Tremeau
DEMOCRATIC REPUBLIC OF THE CONGO – Benakuna, Kasaï region, 27 January 2018. A storm approaches Benakuna village. When horrific violence erupted across the Kasai region in 2016, hundreds of thousands of people ran for their lives. They were forced to abandon their homes, villages and, in some cases, older or ailing family members. They lived in the bush and forests for months, and survived by building huts and eating only what nature could provide. ©Vincent Tremeau/Unicef
Tshikapa, 18 October 2018. Anto,* 10. “Before the war, I was hanging around with my friends and I loved going to school. “We were preparing dinner with my mother when the militiamen arrived and beheaded her in front of my eyes. The militia forbade me to cry, otherwise they would behead me too. I stayed in the militia for three months. I followed them on missions to fight. That’s how I killed two moms for revenge. I took a knife and cut off their heads.” ©Vincent Tremeau/UNICEF*Name changed
Kananga, 24 January 2018. Portrait of Odia,* 17, at a UNICEF-sponsored rehabilitation centre. “People from the militia told us that after the war they would build us houses and find us work. One day, the militaries took my friend as a prisoner. They tied her up on the truck, head down on the ground, and started driving … She was 13. When I think about her, it makes me cry. If I could start all over again, I would rather go search for uniforms in order to go to school.” © Vincent Tremeau/UNICEF
Kananga, 25 January 2018. Portrait of Misenga,* 13, at a UNICEF-sponsored rehabilitation centre. “I wanted to join the movement when I heard that some people were getting paid. I wanted to get a new and bigger house. I saw so many people getting killed. We were fighting the militaries for the good of our country. So we could eat and be well one day. I would like to become a nun now so I can help my family.” ©Vincent Tremeau/UNICEF
Kananga, 21 January 2018. Portrait of Albertine,* 16, at a UNICEF-sponsored rehabilitation centre. “In the baptism of the scorpion, we had to eat a scorpion, so we could change into one, if necessary, on the battlefield. Our main role was to catch the bullets when the police were shooting at us. I wasn’t really happy, but I had to do it to protect the boys, because the police would always shoot at them. Now I would like to be able to study.” ©Vincent Tremeau/UNICEF
Kanzala Hospital in Tshikapa, 18 October 2018. Bangata Karine holds her malnourished son Wazeya in her arms. “We fled the conflict on the border with Angola. But we could not find anything to eat and we had lost everything. My husband decided to go to Angola to earn money in the mines. But it has been eight months and I haven’t heard any news from him. He never sent money. I had to find a way to feed the children, so I started to transport cooked bricks for $1 a day.” ©Vincent Tremeau/UNICEF
LIBYA – Tripoli, 2 February 2019. People walk along the seaside in Tripoli. Eight years after the brutal Libyan uprising and the downfall of the Gaddafi regime, the crumbling ruins of war remain untouched. ©UNOCHA/Giles Clarke
Alzara’eeah settlement, Benghazi, 2 February 2019. Maryam is 25 years old and left the Darfur region of Sudan in 2017. She has three children from a husband who left her about a year ago to return to Darfur. She makes money by selling tin cans and bottles scavenged from the streets. None of the children go to school. There is no health facility in the settlement. Many families only eat one meal a day and often it is asida (a dish similar to porridge). ©UNOCHA/Giles Clarke
Tawergha settlement, Benghazi, 31 January 2019. Halima holds her 2-month-old twins. Halima and her eight children have fled the now-destroyed town of Tawergha. They live in a two-room shelter with a corrugated metal roof. The winter season is the toughest. “It is very difficult to keep the children warm and to find proper treatment and medicine whenever they get sick.” However, despite the situation, Halima is grateful that her children are safe and healthy. ©UNOCHA/Giles Clarke
Alzara’eeah informal settlement, Benghazi, 2 February 2019. Two young girls at a Sudanese informal settlement on the outskirts of Benghazi. They do not go to school and spend their day selling cans and bottles scavenged from the streets. ©UNOCHA/Giles Clarke
YEMEN – Sana’a, 1 May 2017. Khairy Hussain and her daughter look over the city of Sana’a from the roof of the dilapidated building where they have sought refuge. Twenty-three families, all of whom fled fighting in the northern part of the country, now call this dilapidated building their home. Khairy is a mother of three, and has recently given birth to a baby boy. Unable to breastfeed because of her poor diet, she struggles to pay for baby formula. ©UNOCHA/Giles Clarke
Informal settlement for internally displaced people, Khamir, 4 May 2017. Ibtissam, a 15-year-old orphan girl, lives in a ragged tent with her 7 siblings. Both of her parents died in 2015, leaving eight children behind. “I miss my mum and dad very much”, she said. “I wish I had died too, but who would take care of my brothers and sisters?” Ibtissam and her siblings rely on the solidarity of some neighbours, who themselves have very little to share. ©UNOCHA/Giles Clarke
Lahij settlement, 20 November 2018. Two recently displaced Yemeni women stand in front of their makeshift shack in a desert camp north-east of Aden. Along with 70 other families who escaped the conflict in the north, they now live in these crude shelters. The shacks are made with basic wooden frames that were found in the scrubland nearby, then layered over with old clothing, plastic sheeting and anything else they can find to keep out the sand and dust. ©UNOCHA/Giles Clarke
Dar Saad, 21 March 2019. Ola, 15, fled heavy fighting in the city port of Al Hudaydah in June 2018. She lives in a settlement for displaced people on the outskirts of Aden. Ola was engaged to her 22-year-old cousin when she was just 14 years old. Her dowry was 130,000 Yemeni rials, or about US$180. She dreams of being a doctor one day. “I want to do something to help my country and my people. And I want the war to stop; I want to go home … I want to go to school.” ©UNOCHA/Giles Clarke
Aden, 14 November 2018. Fawaz is a little boy with an incredible story of survival. He is pictured at 18 months, in Al Sadaqah Hospital, where he was being treated for severe acute malnutrition, worsened by tuberculosis. His immune system had collapsed, his frail body was bloated, and his skin was blotched with sores. ©UNOCHA/Giles Clarke
Aden, 2 December 2018. Fawaz’s mother, who was eight months pregnant at the time, spent every minute of the day and night at his side, desperately seeing him slip further away. His father, Abdullah, was looking after their other three children and searching for any kind of work to pay for the medical expenses. The family had fled raging conflict in the port city of Al Hudaydah and took refuge in Aden during the summer of 2018, where they took refuge in an abandoned school. ©UNOCHA/Giles Clarke
Aden, 5 December 2018. For two and a half months, doctors battled to save Fawaz’s life. After eight weeks in the hospital, Fawaz finally began responding to the medication, his skin began to clear up and the bloating subsided. ©UNOCHA/Giles Clarke
Aden, 21 March 2019. Fawaz is now healthy and much stronger, and is beginning to learn how to walk. He and his family still live in the abandoned school. More and more displaced families are arriving, and the living conditions are getting worse: overflowing sewage systems, and no running water or electricity. The task of feeding the family is a daily struggle for Fawaz’s father and for most of the families living there. ©UNOCHA/Giles Clarke
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