aid workers

Over the last few weeks, I’ve felt ashamed and conflicted
I left at 4am and took the three-hour car journey to the capital. As I approached Freetown, the mudslide was visible from miles away. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. The sheer size of it was frightening.
When you're in a war-zone you expect trouble. You're mentally prepared. But for those who were caught up in the tsunami they had no warning. They had seconds to react to this great wall of water coming their way. They'd gone on holiday and instead found themselves caught up in a nightmare.
Any organisation that has seen more than 650 of its workers killed or injured on duty in 15 years would need to think hard about how it keeps staff motivated and productive, and how it attracts new talent to replace staff who leave.
When I was 11 years old, I was forced to become a refugee in my own country, Rwanda. I could see how innocent children and mothers suffered from a conflict they have never started. People died including my own brother. Innocent children were massacred. From then on, I developed a spirit of giving justice to those who are helpless, giving a voice to the voiceless, giving protection to the most vulnerable.
When two aid workers were shot dead in Afghanistan last month, the world's media focused its attention on the dangers of 21st century humanitarianism and the challenges that assistance agencies face in protecting their personnel.
Targeting and endangering these brave aid workers, who play no part in the conflict and who simply seek to help those most in need, is wholly unacceptable. The humanitarian tragedy that continues unabated in Syria is deplorable and more must be done to ensure aid reaches the vulnerable, and those delivering it are protected.
For over two years, many of these children have had their lives interrupted and have often had to miss school for long periods of time. Many have escaped horrors no child should witness.... Despite all they have been through, these resilient children have inspired so many around them. These photos portray some of the many children who have touched the hearts of UNHCR staff.
We're no longer the same UN. We're more and more in conflict zones. And we've taken certain decisions that mean we're no longer seen as neutral. The UN flag is now a target instead of a shield. That means we have to change how we go about things, because right now our colleagues and their families are paying too high a price.
Thousands of Somalis have been forced to flee an ongoing military offensive in Afgooye Corridor, Southern Somalia. More than 5,000 people have arrived, many on foot and carrying nothing, into overcrowded Mogadishu. I'm standing in Sigale camp, Mogadishu, and the trickle of people struggling in becomes a torrent. Mothers carrying children and their meagre belongings look shattered and collapse under nearby trees.