Men of the Underground

In Jordan, apartment buildings are managed and run by mostly Egyptian migrant workers, often referred to as boabs or janitors. They live in small nooks in the basement-level parking garages of the buildings they maintain. Most of these men leave behind families and are seldom given the chance to return home for visits.

Climate Change and Conflict Further Impact Spread of Cholera in Middle East

AMMAN, Jordan: As cholera grows rampant across drought-stricken countries, impacted further by climate change, war-torn regions such as Syria and Lebanon face additional challenges from the disease, leaving medical and volunteer teams scrambling to keep up.

If 2020 was the year of COVID, 2022 will be marked as the year of cholera, especially in Syria and Lebanon where climate change and conflict add an additional layer of economic insecurity, impacting how and where cholera spreads in the region.

According to medical professionals and climate experts, the resurgence of cholera is directly related to climate change and extreme climate events such as floods, droughts and cyclones. In the Middle East, droughts are especially common reducing access to clean water for many communities.

“We should not have outbreaks of cholera in our region in the 21st century, and definitely, people should not be dying from it. Access to clean water and appropriate sanitation facilities should be available to all and is a basic human right,” said Dr. Al Mandhari, WHO Regional Director for the Eastern Mediterranean, in a recent press statement.

Cholera, an acute diarrheal illness, is caused by an infection of the intestine from the Vibrio cholerae bacteria, according to the CDC. Though the infection can sometimes be mild, it can also be a severe and life-threatening illness that spreads quickly through contaminated water and food. Left untreated, those with cholera can become severely dehydrated, losing up to 25 liters of fluid per day, eventually leading to kidney failure, shock, coma and death within hours.

According to the WHO, 29 countries have reported cholera outbreaks since January 2022. Basic sanitation, hygiene and access to clean water are the easiest ways to prevent cholera, but in the Middle East, water levels are at a record low.

As of early November, an estimated 35,569 cases in Syria and 3,369 in Lebanon had been reported, according to UNICEF and the Ministry of Public Health in Lebanon. However the Middle East Institute reports that only a small fraction of cases have been accounted for accurately in various databases to track those inflicted.

In Lebanon, the prolonged economic crisis due to conflict, along with limited access to clean water and proper sanitation is exacerbating the risk of cholera among those in the country. According to the UN, the economic crisis has led to disrupted supply chain issues and a lack of affordable energy supply, which is weakening the ability of hospitals and healthcare facilities to treat those with cholera.

“Cholera is deadly, but it’s also preventable through vaccines and access to safe water and sanitation. It can be easily treated with timely oral rehydration or antibiotics for more severe cases,” said Dr. Abdinasir Abubakar of the WHO, in a statement issued last month. “The situation in Lebanon is fragile as the country already struggles to fight other crises—compounded by prolonged political and economic deterioration.”

In a recent press briefing, the WHO explained that a one-dose strategy for cholera vaccines is currently underway, which provides more people with short-term protection from cholera. Under normal circumstances, a standard two-dose vaccination is administered, but due to the resurgence of cholera around the world, medical teams are also dealing with a shortage of vaccines.

In Lebanon, a national campaign was launched in November to target hotspot areas, and so far the country has received 600,000 doses of oral cholera vaccine (OCV) from the International Coordination Group for OCV (ICG). The campaign is currently targeting all individuals over 12 months old, including those pregnant or nursing, and includes only a single OCV dose.

The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) has been working to convert its COVID-19 facilities into cholera response facilities in the Halba and Tripoli Governmental hospitals in Lebanon, according to Paula Barrachina, Head of Communications for UNHCR Lebanon.

According to Barrachina, UNHCR is leading the national vaccination campaign within Lebanon to ensure all populations in high-risk areas have access to the oral cholera vaccine. As of now, over 250 vaccination teams have been mobilized to raise awareness, engage the community, distribute educational materials, and are offering vaccine inoculations door-to-door.

UNHCR Lebanon is also working to cover the hospital admission costs for patients with more severe and life-threatening cases of cholera, whether they be Syrian refugees in Lebanon or local residents. According to Barrachina, the majority of those needing extra assistance live in inadequate shelters with limited access to clean water and basic services.

In Syria, Relief International (RI) has established oral rehydration posts in existing health facilities to treat those with less severe symptoms of cholera and install treatment centers in the areas most impacted by cholera.

It has been almost 12 years since the conflict in Syria began. Today almost 7 million people remain internally displaced, with more than 2 million living in refugee camps and temporary shelters, according to Relief International. The ongoing conflict has led to the damage of more than two-thirds of the country’s water treatment plants, one-third of its water towers and half of all pumping stations in the country, according to UNICEF.

“Cholera is a climate disease. But in Syria, it’s completely related to the water scarcity crisis,” said Jennifer Higgins, Syria Policy, Advocacy and Communications Coordinator for International Rescue Committee - Amman (IRC).

According to the IRC, only 50 percent of the water sanitation systems in Syria are functioning properly leaving the rest unsafe for consumption and daily use. As a result of climate change, there is also 40 percent less drinking water than a decade ago, based on recent findings from the IRC, according to Higgins.

The ongoing conflict in Syria means a deterioration of the country’s water infrastructure and economic decline, all of which are compounded by the effects of climate change and decreased access to water. As a result, many local communities, especially in northeast Syria have to rely on private trucking companies to distribute water.

Many of the private companies not only charge a high rate for the water but also take the water from the Euphrates River and then sell it directly to communities without treating the water first, which is a direct cause of the cholera outbreak in northeast Syria, according to Higgens.

In addition, medical and volunteer organizations now face yet another challenge as the continuation of the cross-border aid mechanism—which connects aid workers from Turkey into northwest Syria and provides humanitarian support to more than 4.4. million people in the area—will be voted on in January.

As Higgens explains, most NGOs in the region are preparing for the upcoming United Nations Security Council (UNSC) to vote down the extension—a direct result of Russia’s veto for the UN cross-border mandate, in response to its current conflict in Ukraine.

The ending of the cross-border aid mechanism will impact UN and various NGO aid efforts to both treat cholera in the region, as well as educate on and prevent the spreading of the disease.

PHOTOJOURNALISM: “Banned Beauty” and the Practice of Breast Ironing in Cameroon

Light, and specifically the contrast of light, plays a dominant role in the photo labeled “November 06, 2016,” from the series Banned Beauty by photographer Heba Khamis (see fig. 1). The image documents a family of women gathered together in their home—a mother with her four children. The mother assists her eldest daughter who is participating in the cultural tradition of breast ironing or flattening, in Cameroon. The girl’s younger sibling stands beside her—her chest wrapped and taped, depicting her involvement as well in the breast flattening tradition. As the viewer, our natural inclination is to read the photograph from left to right, and yet the bright white pupils of the younger daughter, whose chest is taped, immediately capture our attention and guide us back to the primary scene—as if her eyes are the starting point, offering an introduction of what we are to understand and observe. While the bright white of the young daughter’s eyes captures our attention, it is also her look of surprise or perhaps shock that truly grabs the attention of the viewer, directing our gaze back to the far left of the photograph to fully engage in the image.

Various shades of light offset the skin tone of the women, guiding us through the photo. We start at the mother’s shoulder and notice the glimmer of a small earring. The light on her shoulder steers our gaze down her arm, over to her daughter where her hand massages the right breast of her eldest daughter. From there the light guides us up to the light of the daughter’s shirt, which is pulled up to expose her chest, and we stop next at the daughter’s left breast, which is fully exposed, waiting for the next step of the ironing process—or perhaps to be massaged by her mother. The light highlights both the daughter’s young pubescent body, but also the innocence of a young girl in the stages of a cultural practice designed to keep the body protected and modest. From there, our gaze is captured by the bright white undergarments of the eldest daughter. The contrast of the light bouncing from her slip is offset by a white seam from the inside of her dress, which we realize is folded over to expose her upper body to her mother. The folding of the dress guides us down to the face of the youngest child who holds onto the armrest of a chair while gazing up at her big sister. The little child appears to look in wonderment, as the light circles around her cheeks and eyes, as she peers upward. The little child’s arm is raised as it rests on the chair, guiding our eye back to the original young daughter first mentioned, whose right arm gently touches the same armrest. Though the two young girls do not touch, the placement of their arms in proximity to one another resembles an empathetic bond between them, offering a sense of security. A stream of gentle light touches the forearm of the longest sister’s arm touching the chair, guiding us back up while we re-observe that she too has her dress pulled down to expose her stomach and chest, which leaves the observer with questions about the practice of breast ironing, and whether the taping of the younger child’s chest—or the massaging of her eldest sister’s breasts—take place before or after the ironing, or whether massaging and taping are two methods this particular family uses instead of heat or stone.

Stepping back from the photograph, we notice other elements of contrasting light. The youngest child, who peers up at her sister, wears a light-colored or white sweatshirt which keeps her in focus in the scene. Across from her, however, stands another small child—perhaps her brother or sister—whose identity is concealed both by the position of the small child’s body, which is turned away from us, as well as the sweatshirt worn by the child which conceals his or her head. The small child stands in the foreground and gently grabs onto their mother’s dress while watching, also observing. In the background hangs a curtain, highlighted by the light coming from a window which directs our view to a couch in the back of the room. Resting on the couch appears to be a small collection of stuffed animals. The dark-colored couch is offset by the light curtain behind it, as well as the collection of stuffed animals that shine behind the young girl whose chest is taped, reminding us yet again of the innocence of the children who undergo a practice designed to postpone maturity into womanhood.

Though in the context of the Vietnam War, W. Patrick Wade raises the question of images and their ability to shock, thereby affecting the public often causing outrage and in many instances, bringing to light issues of importance. Breast ironing is one of the five under-reported gender-based violent (GBV) crimes, as recognized by the United Nations, and is a relatively unknown practice to those outside Cameroon where it is most prevalent, as well as in other parts of West and Central Africa. This first image in the series of photographs, Banned Beauty, documents a family of women quietly participating in the practice. The image is not violent or shocking, but rather subdued and silent, as if we are not present in the home, but merely observing from the outside, perhaps through a small slit in the window, what the National Institute of Health does recognize as a harmful and traditional cultural practice, and is considered a form of violence against women and girls. Heba Khamis, the photographer of the image, chooses to portray this family through the realities of the practice, but without showcasing the violent and painful side. In Wade’s article, he asks the question of whether wartime imagery—in this context, of the Vietnam War—can be neither “pro-war” nor “anti-war,” instead raising the debate about how “photojournalistic representation emerged as a locus for debate and resource for public argumentation.” Whether discussing rape in war or female gentile mutilation—two gender-based violent crimes that have been at the forefront of debate in the last several years, in relation to GBV—this image captured by Khamis of breast ironing is more subdued. There is no violence shown—it does not portray a scene for shock value, yet it still provokes empathy in the viewer.

If as viewers we were unaware of breast ironing, nor had access to the description of the photograph, we might assume it is just a family tending to some medical issue or perhaps checking for breast cancer, by performing an at-home self-examination. This raises the question of the effectiveness of the photograph. Is its purpose to bring to light the debate surrounding this practice—both its sustainability, as well as ethical concerns on the treatment of women and young girls forced to undergo this practice? If referencing Wade’s article about the Vietnam War to discuss war against women through GBV practices, we must acknowledge his comment, “war photography’s impact on public audiences has been a recurring theme in photography theory and criticism. A common assumption in this literature is that images of wartime death gain their power from their capacity to shock the audience into action through graphic display of dead or wounded bodies.” Africa, as a region, has a long history of various atrocities—whether it be as the victims or the perpetrators. Countless cultural practices have remained intact even into the present day. There is no shortage of violent footage documenting war, or wartime atrocities in the region, including the effects of other issues such as famine and drought.

The larger question though is how to truly capture the effects and practice of breast ironing while offering respect to the people who perform this tradition—and is it deserved. For instance, many Western audiences are surprised to learn the practice of female genital mutilation (FGM) is generally performed by a female practitioner. In raising awareness of GBV issues, it is most often assumed that the perpetrators are male. Like FGM, the practice of breast ironing is generally performed by elder females in the family, such as the mother or grandmother. In the image labeled “November 12, 2016,” in the series from Banned Beauty (see fig. 2), Khamis captures a portrait of a woman, Cecile, with her daughter Suzanne in East Cameroon. The caption tells us that Cecile has been flattening her daughter’s breasts twice a day using hot stone. Much like the first image in the series, the photograph depicts both the victim and the perpetrator together—if we define the mother as a perpetrator, as she is the one applying this practice to her daughter. We can assume that the mother also experienced breast ironing as a child. Thus, the perpetrator is also a victim—a victim of her elders whom we can presume forced this practice on her, though perhaps we can define her as also a victim of Cameroon’s culture. This leads us to question, as the photographer, how do we capture the victims of a cultural practice widely accepted and encouraged, all the while doing justice—or lending an understanding—to those who continue to enforce breast ironing as an acceptable procedure? Do all those in the photograph deserve to be photographed with respect, or as the photographer, do we look for victims in pain to truly show the horrors of GBV, and in the case of breast ironing, the long-term effects? In Patricia Hayes's article, “Santu Mofokeng, Photographs: ‘The Violence is in The Knowing,’” she brings up those on the outside documenting the lives of black people during the apartheid in South Africa and their struggle against police repression. She discusses the need at the time to document the violent relationship and that “the most wanted photograph internationally was of white police beating black youths.” She goes on to add, “the evidence of this ‘relationship’ produced certain effects (and economies) for the anti-apartheid struggle, especially outside the country.” Yet, one photograph she references depicts police officers in Johannesburg with sjamboks, standing together almost posing for the camera. Violence in the photograph is absent, but as a viewer, we can draw the conclusion that violence is coming. As Hayes adds, “…we remain suspended, facing white people as black youths did in the 1980s. Viewers might think and feel something different, compared with the third-party perspective of the white-cop-assaulting-black-youth of more conventional anti-apartheid photography.”

In the third image from the series, labeled as “November 26, 2016” (see fig. 3) a young woman, Winnie, sits with her daughter as they hide from relatives in central Cameroon. The caption tells us that Winnie has been raped by a family member—perhaps resulting in the birth of her daughter pictured in the image—and could not breastfeed as a result of breast ironing. Much like the other portraits captured by Khamis, the photograph portrays a silent moment that is neither violent nor graphically shocking. But the caption explains the long-term effects of a practice that ultimately damages the body, especially as young girls develop into mature women, who will eventually experience childbirth and motherhood. The practice, as explained in the series, is still culturally embraced as a form of delaying maturity, thus supposedly helping to prevent rape or other sexual advances. It is considered an act of love by women to ensure their daughters do not get pregnant and thus can finish their schooling and find jobs. It is important to note that many consider it an act of love. Much like FGM, it is the women who have undergone such a practice in their youth, yet it is the women who continue to reinforce the procedure. While breast ironing is supposed to prolong the maturity of one starting puberty, it is the opposite of honoring the changes of these young girls by prolonging the natural development of their bodies. In documenting scenes of breast ironing, the photographer chooses to capture all parties participating in the practice, with equal weight and significance. We do not see the young women being violently attacked or pushing away from those doing the ironing. The light shines equally on all parties—there is no uneven distribution of light so as to give emphasis to one person over the other. We are left questioning who is truly the victim—perhaps it is all women in the region who have undergone this procedure at one time or another, regardless of whether they are the ones continuing the practice?

“Banned Beauty” and the Practice of Breast Ironing in CameroonAs an outsider, how do we shed light on a cultural practice that we deem to be inhumane, yet culturally accepted by many in the region? As in figure 1 and figure 2, we see the mother in both images as the perpetrator and the child(ren) as the victim. Yet, they are a family and breast ironing to these mothers is considered a rite of passage. By acknowledging that it is the mother performing the act, does this take away from her humanness by deeming her the perpetrator in a series that brings awareness to this practice? Or is this series simply documenting the life of several families who have chosen to embrace and continue the practice of breast ironing, common in their culture? Stereotypically speaking, of course, many Western audiences aware of GBV crimes in Africa would assume this is regional, and almost expected. Much like the assumptions of cultural differences that allowed colonialism to thrive at one point in the region, it then becomes important not to portray breast ironing as a violent crime—as perhaps one expects from a Western audience witnessing a cultural practice with which they are neither familiar nor can understand. By capturing these women in a calm, quiet manner using light to highlight the gentleness of the family together, the photographer can subtly help the audience understand and acknowledge the harm of breast ironing while honoring those in the photograph, capturing them with respect. Ward adds in his article, in reference to several images depicting violence, that they do not accomplish more than perhaps serving as “titillation or propaganda,” and therefore have very little social impact. In a larger context, the violent images do not offer a guide for “understanding, debating, or addressing the issues captured in the frame.” Even the girls who are captured with their shirts off, including in figure 1 of the older daughter whose breast is exposed, the image lacks a shock value that might otherwise be established with an image of young girls half dressed. In most photographs from the series, the women look directly at the camera and thus, directly at the audience. We acknowledge those in the photograph not with pity, as other photographers might otherwise try to capture in depicting such scenes, but by listening to the image to understand what is happening, and thus to understand both the cultural significance of breast ironing, but also its need for extinction.

Figure 1. Banned Beauty. Photograph by Heba Khamis, November 07, 2016.

Figure 2. Banned Beauty. Photograph by Heba Khamis, November 12, 2016.

Figure 3. Banned Beauty. Photograph by Heba Khamis, November 26, 2016.

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Bibliography

Amahazion, Fikrejesus. “Breast Ironing: A Brief Overview of an Underreported Harmful Practice.” Journal of Global Health 11 (February 27, 2021): 1–4. https://doi.org/10.7189/jogh.11.03055.

“Breast Ironing Fact Sheet.” Africa Health Organisation, March 22, 2019. https://aho.org/fact-sheets/breast-ironing-fact-sheet/.

Hayes, Patricia. “Santu Mofokeng, Photographs: The Violence is in The Knowing.” History and Theory, Theme Issue 48 (December 2009): 34-51.

Khamis, Heba. Banned Beauty. Photograph. World Press Photo. 2018. https://www.worldpressphoto.org/collection/photo-contest/2018/heba-khamis/1.

Wade, W Patrick. “The ‘Living Room War’ in the Escalation Period: Romance, Irony, and the Narrative Ambivalence of Tragedy in Vietnam War Era Photojournalism.” Media, War & Conflict 8, no. 3 (December 2015): 312–328. http://www.jstor.org/stable/26000954.

FEATURE: The Forgotten & Unprotected - Rainbow Refugees

Most refugees are fleeing war or violence. But for rainbow refugees like Sulah, identifying as LGBTQ+ is reason enough to flee violence and persecution back home.

Sulah Mawejji, a refugee from Uganda, went to live with relatives after his mother and later father passed away—both from HIV. When those relatives learned he was gay, Sulah was bullied and told to leave at just 16 years old.

A friend helped Sulah flee to Nairobi where he found safety and support through Safe Place International. He smiles now and shares how Safe Place helped him reclaim his life. Now he serves as County Director for Kenya for the Dream Academy program at the organization.

“Being responsible for others has given me a new definition. I have been told I am nothing…These people love you with a lot of love. It’s a place where they let you be free. Every child deserves that,” Sulah says.

His experience is common for refugees who identify as LGBTQ+. Many come from countries, like Uganda, that punish or abuse individuals who identify as such, or migrate to countries where conditions are similar—receiving little support for both the emotional trauma they have endured or to safely transition into their new home. The war in Ukraine is shedding some light on the additional battle rainbow refugees face, regardless of country of origin or refugee status.

Uganda and other African nations have a history of LGBTQ+ discrimination, causing many to flee regardless of war. But Eastern Europe also shares a past of discrimination.

Hungary, for instance, passed a law in 2020 requiring all identification documents to state an individual’s gender at birth. This makes it almost impossible for those who identify as transgender to legally change their identity. The country, which is actively accepting refugees from Ukraine right now, adds additional elements of risk for those fleeing the war who identify as LGBTQ+.

There are 70 UN member states that criminalize consensual same-sex acts, according to the UNHCR, and 11 states where the death penalty is a potential reality for those who identify as LGBTQ+.

Lack of reporting and risk of persecution make it difficult to know how many refugees around the world identify as LGBTQ+. Doing so can lead to continued violence, rape and discrimination.

In Kenya though, Sulah was arrested. Sitting in a room of bright orange and yellow walls, he shares via Zoom how grateful he is for Nairobi, despite challenges as a gay man. Through the training and support services he received with Safe Place, he knew it was in his right to refuse anal testing if arrested—a common practice used as a dehumanizing tactic by authorities to provide evidence of homosexual activity. Kenyan courts made the practice illegal in just 2018.

“I still know who I am, but I still have doubts. I’m still self-conscious that I’m not a man and I feel intimidated…But we’re not bad kids,” Sulah says.

Gagotheko Gybian “GG” Mothai, originally from Zambia, now lives in Botswana and regularly struggles with an emotional and psychological burden all too common for rainbow refugees.

“My sexuality and identity has made it hard for me to find a job, so my finances are strained and my freedom of religion is also being deprived of me because I am always judged for who I am and no religious leader wants their church to be associated with an LGBTQ+ person…I have been made to feel that I am an outcast,” GG says.

Like Sulah, GG has found support through Safe Place. Speaking with them via WhatsApp voice messages due to internet connectivity issues, GG is optimistic that Safe Place will continue serving as their new family and support system, helping them find emotional relief and clarity from all they have experienced as LGBTQ+.

Rainbow refugees continue to face mental health struggles long after leaving their homes, and finding resources and services to help them cope is often limited.

According to the Center of Victims of Torture (CVT), many of their LGBTQ+ clients opt out of housing in refugee camps, preferring to stay in cities where they have to fend for themselves. Refugee camps are often in rural areas and contain the same issues of homophobia and discrimination or violence that rainbow refugees fled. They forgo registration which means limited access to basic services. All of these issues compound the treatment they dealt with back home.

“While we care for all survivors…we know that LGBTQ+ survivors have a very unique experience on persecution and therefore have unique needs in terms of healing and the kind of hope that we can help build with them,” says Simon Adams, Ph.D. and President and CEO of CVT.

EXPLAINER: Why Human Trafficking Follows The War

As the war in Ukraine continues, women and children are fleeing for safety, but that road to safety is likely lined with human traffickers.

While many Ukrainian men stay behind to defend their country, women and children remain the most vulnerable to trafficking as they venture across neighboring borders. UNHCR reports at least 90 percent of those fleeing are women and children.

Ukraine has remained one of the most targeted European countries by traffickers since becoming a separate nation in 1991 with over 300,000 victims, according to the International Organization for Migration (IOM). A majority of victims are trafficked for sexual exploitation into Russia, as well as Poland, Germany, and other regions including the Middle East, according to the US State Department.

Since February 24, more than 4.5 million refugees have fled Ukraine for neighboring countries, according to the UNHCR. The large influx of refugees leaving the country creates easy targets for traffickers.

Who are the victims?

Women and children—and in many cases, children alone—are crossing Ukraine to neighboring countries, but not all volunteers at the border are there to help.

The risk of human trafficking increases in any conflict, according to the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime (UNODC). Traffickers, especially those targeting victims for sexual exploitation, see war as an opportunity to single out those in need of assistance, transportation and a new life—and Ukraine is no exception.

Children, ethnic minorities, refugees and LGBTQ+ individuals are most at risk. The Guardian reports the most vulnerable right now are children, as many are traveling alone to escape the conflict. The sheer number of people leaving Ukraine has made it difficult for refugee and government organizations to track all border crossings, putting children at greater risk.

Who are the traffickers?

As reported by The Guardian, there is no one type of trafficker—but for Ukrainians, many are men from neighboring countries working alone or as part of organized rings.

After the dissolution of the Soviet Union in 1991, sex trafficking increased drastically as many in the region fell into poverty, combined with increases in alcoholism and unemployment. Ethnic minorities, such as those from the Roma community in Ukraine—an Indo-Aryan group of people—became easy targets for traffickers, according to The Borgen Project.

Before the current conflict in Ukraine, 70 percent of trafficking victims in the country had been targeted through promises of job opportunities such as modeling and beauty contests, marriage arrangements, and vacation and study abroad programs, according to UNODC.

Women trafficking women is also not uncommon. According to the UNODC, women make up the majority of traffickers in about 30 percent of countries worldwide that have provided data on the gender of traffickers.

Now the war in Ukraine presents new opportunities for these traffickers.

What about the trafficking?

For Ukrainians, it is suspected most victims, especially women, will enter into forced prostitution or sexual exploitation, which makes up 79 percent of human trafficking worldwide, according to the UNODC. Organ trafficking and forced labor are the next biggest concerns. Trafficking for any purpose is still a form of modern-day slavery.

Children separated from their families are especially vulnerable to traffickers. Between February 24 and March 17, more than 500 children crossed the border from Ukraine into Romania while unaccompanied. According to UNICEF, the true number of separated children may be much higher.

“The war in Ukraine is leading to massive displacement and refugee flows—conditions that could lead to a significant spike in human trafficking and an acute child protection crisis,” said Afshan Khan, UNICEF’s Regional Director for Europe and Central Asia. “Displaced children are extremely vulnerable to being separated from their families, exploited and trafficked. They need governments in the region to step up and put measures in place to keep them safe.”

The IOM is working with government partners and agencies to set up anti-trafficking measures and spread awareness of the risks to look for along Ukrainian borders, including hotlines for those in trouble.

Even individual volunteers are helping. Some women who have fled to safety in neighboring countries, such as Poland, are providing car transportation to women and children they see traveling alone—ensuring they stay protected, as reported by the BBC.

EVENT COVERAGE: Emotions Run High at Start of UN Human Rights Council Meeting, Over Invasion of Ukraine

Russia’s attack on Ukraine has remained a primary focus at the United Nations Human Rights Council (UNHRC) session in Geneva this month as delegates walked out on the Russian Foreign Minister in protest.

More than 100 UN members left the assembly hall as Russian Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov spoke on the second day of the Council's session where he accused Ukraine of its goal to acquire nuclear weapons—which the country abandoned in exchange for security in 1994.

Ukraine urged fellow representatives to recognize Russia’s invasion as “not only on Ukraine but on every UN member state of the United Nations and on the principles that this organization was created to defend,” said Yevheniia Filipenko, Ukrainian Ambassador to the UN.

“It is the duty of the Human Rights Council to demonstrate its credibility and relevance and to take appropriate action to put an end to the gross and systematic violations of human rights, stemming from the Russian aggression,” said Filipenko.

Ignazio Cassis, President of Switzerland—broke from his country’s longstanding tradition for neutrality—spoke of Russia’s blatant violation of international humanitarian law and violation of the most fundamental principles of the UN Charter. Switzerland, like many other nations, voiced its readiness to welcome Ukrainian refugees and called upon all nations in the Council to protect and treat all civilians with humanity.

The UNHRC session opened on day one with an immediate petition from Ukraine for a vote for a special debate to discuss Russia’s invasion. The approval of the debate passed and was later held with UN members calling for the establishment of a special commission to investigate Russia’s war crimes and violations of human rights.

Antony Blinken, U.S. Secretary of State, denounced Russia for its grave human rights abuses and violations, citing its deliberate attacks on civilians, including schools, residential buildings and even ambulances. In response, he suggested Russia be removed from the United Nations.

"We must reject Russia’s attempts to falsely justify this attack as a defense of human rights – misappropriating terms that we reserve for the worst atrocities and disrespecting every victim of those crimes,” said Blinken.

“One can reasonably ask whether a UN member state that tries to take over another UN member state—while committing horrific human rights abuses and causing massive humanitarian suffering—should be allowed to remain on this Council,” said Blinken.

Ukraine has continued to call for the withdrawal of Russian troops and plead for support against the invasion, which has led to the displacement of over 6.5 million people within Ukraine and over 3.2 million refugees, according to the U.N. migration agency.

The Council session has just a couple of weeks left, but the invasion of Ukraine has continued to be a primary focus of discussions and messaging thus far with UN ambassadors around the world calling on Russia to end its aggression, citing Russian President Vladimir Putin as a war criminal.

BREAKING NEWS: More Than Half of Adult Refugees In Jordan Now Vaccinated Against COVID-19, Thanks To New Vaccine Centers

Over 90 percent of adults in Syrian refugee camps in Jordan have received at least one dose of the COVID-19 vaccine, due to new vaccination centers.

Over 74 percent of adult refugees are fully vaccinated in Azraq Refugee Camp—located in northern Jordan and created after the Syrian Civil War in 2014—according to the National Centre for Security and Crisis Management (NCSCM) as issued in a statement this week by the United National High Commissioner of Refugees (UNHCR).

“Over the last few months, we have seen significant progress in facilitating refugee vaccinations in Jordan,” said Dominik Bartsch, UNHCR Jordan Representative. “Amid the current spike of COVID cases in Jordan, it is reassuring that refugee communities remain committed to getting vaccinated.” 

Awareness of Jordan’s national vaccination program among refugees has substantially increased since the launch of new clinics in October. Registrations for the vaccine rose by 500 percent between January and December 2021, accounting for almost 96 percent of the Jordan refugee population, according to surveys performed by UNHCR.

The vaccination clinics are located in three registration centers close to the majority of Jordan’s refugee population—in the capital city of Amman and in the northern regions of the country. Za’atari Refugee Camp, closest to a clinic in Mafraq, is the largest camp for Syrian refugees in the world with more than 80,900 residents as of January 2022, according to UNHCR. The centers provide in-person access to doctors and nurses who are available to answer questions and concerns.

Many women are concerned about the impact vaccines may have on fertility. Others worry it will affect the growth of their children who are eligible for the vaccine. Having direct access to local healthcare workers and volunteers has helped counter misinformation. Refugee community volunteers help run the clinics and encourage fellow refugees to get vaccinated.

“The presence of vaccination centers in our communities has had a positive impact on the number of refugees getting vaccinated. It makes it much easier for refugees, like me, to get vaccinated close to home in a safe and welcoming environment,” said Hajj, a Sudanese refugee community volunteer at the Nuzha Community Centre. 

UNHCR has recently commended the Jordanian government for actively addressing and including its refugees in its response efforts since the beginning of COVID-19.