Langlesing | Flyktninghjelpen

Langlesing

Oppdrag: å få mennesker som har flyktet til å føle seg hjemme

Monique poses for a photo behind her new house.

Photo. Itunu Kuku/NRC

Endelig hjemme etter fem måneder på flukt i skogen

H.K.H. Kronprins Haakon

Møtte ungdom på flukt

Amina (7) har bodd fire år under en plastduk

Mahmoud’s family received help from the Norwegian Refugee Council to complete repairs to their home after it was damaged by the explosion at Beirut port on August 4th.

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Photo: Sam Tarling/NRC

Krigen tok hjemmet deres – så smalt det igjen

Gaver med mening

Den store julegaveguiden

Fatima Bashir, 9, sits with her mother Sarah Mohammad Omara Shehadeh, 42, in her family’s apartment in Karantina, Beirut, Lebanon, on October 23, 2020.

«Hjemme» er der håpet bor

7 grunner til at et hjem er viktigere enn du tror

• What drew the individual to this line of work – why did they choose to do it, how did they get into it

Our lives, my life, changed the day of the tsunami hit the shores of my hometown, Batticaloa in the east of Sri Lanka. It was just after Christmas, 26 December 2004, to be exact. My country was in the middle of a brutal civil war when the tsunami took the lives, our homes and schools, and reshaped our future in the blink of an eye.

Immediately after the tsunami, the school that I used to play basketball at was turned into a center for people who had lost a roof over their head. I was in my late teens, just out of high school and looking to study further and work in ICT. The tsunami changed everything. Together with my friends, we pulled our resources, and bought basic items, such as clothes, food, and toiletries, to provide some relief to our communities and friends. A local NGO stepped up and we signed up as volunteers. We organised distributions, accompanied people to the hospitals to find their loved ones, helped with search and identification of the deceased, and started major cleaning operations of our towns. Those first weeks after the tsunami were horrific.

Eventually, I joined ‘Eastern Humanitarian Economic Development’, a local NGO under umbrella of Caritas and worked with them for four years. I started in Communications and Reporting. It was important to me to be able to share the stories of those affected by the tsunami.

I worked with local NGOs and INGOs in my own country for years, supporting tsunami recovery and war-affected communities, before moving to South Sudan and eventually joining NRC in Yemen, moving on to Mosul, Iraq and now Afghanistan.

• What ‘enemy’ were they battling (the spread of COVID-19, COVID-19 deaths, malnutrition, lack of clean water, etc.)

My enemy was and remains insecurity – across Afghanistan. I learned from a young age to live with and in insecurity. We suffer the most when we least expect it. Most of the places I have worked in, NRC enjoys a degree of acceptance and we are often not directly the target, but that does not provide us with a security blanket.

Managing insecurity became even more challenging during the COVID-19 pandemic in Afghanistan, which has come with a different kind of insecurity – one that is compounded by disbelief, stigmatisation, and misinformation. This required real creative thinking and operational adjustments to ensure staff is able to safely stay and deliver.

So much of NRC’s work, its acceptance to operate safely in areas that are dangerous at the best of time, has had to incorporate trust-building with communities, local governance structures, and armed actors around how to best keep safe during a pandemic. COVID-19 spread across Afghanistan like wildfire, often as a direct result of misinformation, disbelief, and people’s inabilities to keep themselves safe in the face of the pandemic. For many Afghans, social distancing is a luxury they cannot afford. Working from home for those that depend on a daily wage is simply not possible.

• Deeper issues that humanitarians and first responders face in their daily lives – stigmatisation, access difficulties, dangers, lack of support etc.

It is often hard to imagine what Afghanistan could look like again when peace comes. The country is a perpetual state of strife and conflict, communities torn apart by violence and insecurity. A family’s primary focus is on making ends meet in a time where insecurity and economic hardship as a result of conflict are the main drivers of displacement and poverty.

Much like the tsunami that hit my own war-torn country, the COVID-19 pandemic wreaked havoc across communities already struggling to stay safe and put food on the table. Witnessing this is frankly heartrending and affects humanitarians deeply. Yet, in the face of this daily reality, I have seen some amazing acts of kindness between people, who have opened their doors and shared their resources with those most in need – from the smallest initiatives between neighbours to country-wide campaigns in support of the plight of Afghans. I am profoundly humbled by the level of dedication from my Afghan colleagues, who despite their own struggles and the risks associated with the spread of COVID-19, continued to provide food, cash, shelter, and protection to their fellow Afghans. Their commitment brought me back to the shores of my own country and reminded me that humanity ultimately prevails in the face of adversity.

• What are some of the biggest challenges and obstacles they have to overcome in this response?

Mid-March arrived with the threat of international flight suspensions and border closures, which meant that many of our international staff would be trapped in Afghanistan without safe and adequate access to medical care. The decision to evacuate the vast majority of our expat staff came at a critical time where I was asked to step into the role of Acting Country-Director, leading a team of five remaining expats and almost 1.400 national staff through the first weeks of the outbreak.

I won’t lie, it was scary to take on such a level of responsibility. Across the country operation, the mantra was clearly endorsed by all staff: NRC stays and delivers. But to honour our commitment as humanitarians meant striking a careful balance between acceptable levels of risks to our staff, beneficiaries and operations with the need to stay and deliver.

For our country operation, the biggest challenge lies in that careful balancing act – between staying and delivering, honouring our commitment as humanitarians, whilst constantly adjusting our operational modalities to ensure that we do not expose staff and the people we serve to unacceptable levels of risk. There is no science to this, there is no magical formula that allows you to arrive at a logical conclusion. It comes down to leadership, teamwork, integrity, and commitment.

• What lessons did they learn along the way?

What I have learned from swimming in the deep end so to speak is that it is an ongoing process where the stakes are high and mistakes are costly. Transparency in decision-making and inclusive leadership proved to be everything.

The outbreak of the pandemic sadly highlighted that we were somewhat ill-prepared. We have all sorts of protocols and procedures established and practiced for many different scenarios – from mass displacement, to surges in conflict, complex attacks and the like, but we were ill-prepared to deal with a medical emergency of this nature. We are prepared to live with and around war, but when the pandemic hit, we had to develop strategies for operational realities where the threat is invisible, indiscriminate, and so much is still unknown.

I am proud of how the Afghanistan team used the challenge to equip the organisation at large to respond. We developed a strategic partnership with WHO to support risk communication and community engagement around the spread of the virus, developed programming and attracted funding to tackle the secondary effects of the outbreak, such as food security and water and sanitation-related needs, and mobilised across the country to ensure cash could be distributed in a safe manner to people who lost their livelihoods and access to services.

And amidst all of the programmatic priorities we managed to keep sight of the needs of our colleagues, equally affected by the sudden onset of the pandemic, by setting up a dedicated a Staff Care Unit, tasked with contact tracing in case of anyone contracted COVID-19. This speaks to the constant balancing act between NRC’s mantra to stay and deliver, and the need to do so safely.

• Has this work or this emergency response changed them in any ways and if so, how?

During this pandemic, Afghanistan really became home for me. It became an indefinite mission, a place where I knew I would be for while – without the luxury of a break. I learned to make Afghanistan home, appreciating the little things that give comfort in an insecure environment in uncertain times. The morning greetings from the colleagues, the familiarity of the call to prayer, the kindness showed by our colleagues who knew that, as a Sri Lankan, staying to deliver meant giving up being able to return to my home country indefinitely, gave me a profound sense of gratitude. This, in turn, kept me grounded and motivated to carry on the important work NRC is doing for the people in Afghanistan.
Photo: Enayatullah Azad/NRC

– Vi rammes hardest når vi minst forventer det

Portrait of Ali Alhajori.

– Vi trodde aldri vi kom til å bli dem som måtte flykte

June 19, 2020. Colombia: Hector Castillo (23) is a Venezuelan migrant native from Caracas. He just received a bag and stuff from the NGO NRC to give him better walking conditions. He is in Colombia since one and a half years. He's been walking all day with two other friends. They hope to reach the city of Paipa, some 200 km from Bogota, where the aunt of one of his friends will give them shelter for a while. Today he says, in relation to the crisis: "The only thing we can do is walk.". Credit: Nadège Mazars for NRC

Flyktningregnskapet

Flyktningtallene forteller ikke hele historien

*Caption pending*

Photo by: Zaynab Mayladan/NRC

Flyktningregnskapet

Disse 10 landene tar imot flest flyktninger

Flyktningregnskapet

Noen få land tar ansvar for verdens flyktninger

Yemen: a boy puts on a face mask to protect against Covid-19.

Barn er også redde for viruset

Jentene på det afghanske drømmeakademiet

Sara Ishaq, 17 years old

Flyktningregnskapet

Da Sara var syv og skulle gifte seg

– Vi krever vår rett

NORCAP expert Konstantinos Karagiannis is working with the Reception and Identification Service (RIS) in Greece, to make sure asylum seekers are properly registered and able to file their asylum claims from the new camp in Lesvos.

– Dette er nødhjelp, ikke en langsiktig løsning

Photo: Zaynab Mayladan/NRC

Eksplosjonen i Beirut:

– Katastrofer som dette kan få frem det verste i mennesker

– Hvis ikke viruset tar livet av oss, risikerer vi å dø av sult

David fled from South-Sudan ti Uganda in 2014. He completed high school at a local school in Uganda. He as now finished the online training course and a waiting for his enrolment at the University in Kampala. David is dreaming of doing an exchange year in either the United Kingdom or the United States. He want to pursue a carrier in software engineering to secure his future.

Only 3% of refugee youth have access to tertiary education, compared to 36% of the world’s youth. While a growing number of programmes provide tertiary education opportunities to refugees through scholarships and distance education these are few and with little documentation about processes and outcomes. The partnership between. Arizona State University (ASU) and Norwegian Refugee Council (NRC) is a direct response to this need.

In August 2018, ASU and NRC signed a Memorandum of Understanding to establish an ASU Earned Admission programme at Ayilo and Nyumanzi refugee camps in Adjumani District, Uganda. The programme provides students with access to online courses through the university’s Global Freshman Academy.

25 South Sudanese and Ugandan learners participated in the programme. 40% are female and the makeup of the group otherwise reflects the importance of working hand-in-hand with the host community.

Location: Youth Center in Nyumanzi Settelment, Adjumani, Uganda
Photo: Ingrid Prestetun/NRC

– Vi er de som skal bygge opp landet vårt

NORCAP experts have helped set up the new camp on Moria, after fires destroyed the previous camp. We also have a site planner on the island, supporting coordination and setting up water tanks and sewage facilities. (Photo: NORCAP/Alkisti Mavraki) September 2020

Vi er på plass i Moria

Fled from South-Sudan in 2016. He lives in Uganda with his wife and 7 children. He started as a teacher in 2005 in South-Sudan.

Location: Youth Center in Nyumanzi Settelment, Adjumani, Uganda
Photo: Ingrid Prestetun/NRC

– Når jeg underviser føler jeg meg fri

Gleder seg over ny skole

Photo: Mahmoud Al-Filstini/NRC

Marwa Rasheed, aged 9, fled her home in Taiz and now lives in Al-Meshqafa camp with her family. “We have been living here for two years. We don’t go to school because of corona,” she says. “I’m trying to study at home until the end of the coronavirus' rules and then we can go back to school.”

Fryktens epidemi

Athieng fled from South-Sudan to Uganda in 2015 with her two brothers and mother, after first staying 2 years in Kenya. They live 25 km from the border to South-Sudan.

In Nyumanzi Settlement in Adjumani, Uganda Athieng gave birth to twin daughters in 2019 and her mother is taking care of them while Athieng is in school. Her father is still in South-Sudan.

Athieng is now attending last year of primary school in NRCs Accelerated Education Program. She and her 14 year old brother is attending the same class. AEP in Nyumanzi has more than 200 students from the age of 10 to 20 years. Athieng has a dream to become a nurse in the future.

Location: Youth Center in Nyumanzi Settlement, Adjumani District, Uganda
 Photo: Ingrid Prestetun/NRC

En dag i Athiengs liv

- Jeg var 13 og ble tvunget til å gifte meg

- De bombet skolen vår

Destroyed classroom

Ni utfordringer ungdommer i Syria møter

Hayat, 70, is one of thousands of people who were affected by the blast that damaged parts of their homes. She and her two sons with their families live in Karantina, XX km away from the explosion site. They live on different floors in the same three store-building. At the time of the explosion, she was sitting outside on terrace of the building’s rooftop.

“I was sitting on our terrace when the first explosion happened. I thought that airplanes were bombing,” says Hayat. “I immediately ran inside to get some of my key documents and my purse when the second explosion happened. It was so loud and it blew me off the ground.”

“I didn’t know what to do and my first thought was that my sons could not have survived this. Then, I saw my son, Giofar, coming up the stairs calling for me in panic to check if I was okay. The blood was dripping from his head and his body was full of glass shatter,” says Hayat.

“We have lived in this building for 27 years. I have witnessed all the wars and conflicts in Beirut but never have I seen Beirut so severely damaged as this,” says Hayat. “The scene outside our home looked like a battle field, beyond what you can comprehend. People were running around in panic, bodies on the ground, blood everywhere, buildings falling apart, cars under the rubble and glass shatter all over,” she says.

“There is a hospital opposite to where we live but it was totally destroyed and we were not able to move to take my son to the hospital. We lost him in the turmoil but a police officer had seen him injured and took him on his Vespa to a hospital about 15 km from where we live,” Hayat explains. “He came back fully stitched but we are lucky he survived,” she says.

“My other son’s wife was giving birth a few hours before the explosion, she delivered a baby boy. The hospital had to release her after just a few hours just to make space to other people who were heavily injured in the blast,” says Hayat.

“My grandchildren are all traumatized. They are afraid and can’t sleep during the night. Whenever they hear any loud sound they start screaming and fear another explosion will go off. We are constantly worried that something else will happen,” she says.

“We have a lot of needs now, the windows, curtains, and furniture are all damaged. The glass shatters destroyed everything and the walls have fallen down. My kitchen is not functioning and the water pipes are all broken. We need our homes to be repaired urgently but we can’t afford the repairs,” Hayat says. “We don’t know when we will get assistance but we need everyone’s help to rebuild the streets of Beirut,” she says.

“When I look at the destruction around us, I can only say we were saved by a miracle,” says Hayat. “In the end all the material damage can be replaced, we can eventually buy new ones but a life can’t be replaced,” she says.

“Imagine, one of the neighbours in the building next to ours is Syrian. He has been living alone for a while and his family in Syria. A few weeks ago, the situation where his wife and two daughters live in Syria worsened so he brought them here to be in safety and escape the war. But they didn’t escape death, the roof fell over them in the explosion and his wife and two daughters died. If you see him now, it’s like he has gone mad,” she says.

“My husband died when my children were very young and I raised them as a single mother. I put all my heart and effort to raise them and keep them safe. My biggest fear is to lose them now when they are adults. They are my whole life and if something happens to them I wouldn’t be able to handle it. The situation in country has become unbearable. Our hearts are broken, the people are tired and Lebanon has suffered enough,” Hayat concludes.

Photo: Racha El Daoi/NRC

Eksplosjonen i Beirut: “Det var et mirakel at vi overlevde”

Verdens humanitære dag

Møt hverdagsheltene i Flyktninghjelpen

Å undervise med kjærlighet

Children in Kongoussi Rural commune, Center North region, Burkina Faso, gather around a small radio to listen to a French lesson on spelling.

Photo: Adama KOURAOGO, Education Officer NRC Burkina

Slik sikrer vi utdanning til barn på flukt gjennom koronakrisen

10 grunner til at du bør hjelpe barn som Solantine (12)

Barn på flukt rammes hardest

Movses was at his house when the explosion happened, he ran to the balcony immediately when he heard the sound, the blast threw him, his wife and his 10-year-old daughter away. "When we regained consciousness, I didn't believe my eyes, everything was destroyed, it was like an atomic bomb", Movses explains, "I couldn't find a place to stay at with my family, so we are sleeping in our damaged house, what else can we do?" Volunteers helped Movses cleaning his apartment and giving assessment, "this is not enough, many people came and promised us help, but honestly, I don't see a point in that, this is hopeless. I want to leave this country, there's no hope for us to stay anymore. Do you want more than that?" Movses was injured on his head and all over his body. "My injuries weren't as painful as seeing my daughter covered in blood, I wasn't able to protect my own daughter." He concluded.

Photo: Zaynab Mayladan/NRC

Beirut: Eksplosjonen rystet livene deres