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NARRI Consortium wins 2013 Sasakawa Award

Jessica.Falerio — Fri, 24 May 2013 02:00:01 +0000

The National Alliance for Risk Reduction and Response Initiative (NARRI) Consortium from Bangladesh, which is led by ActionAid, has been awarded the 2013 UN Sasakawa Award – the highest award for contributions to disaster risk reduction.

The UN award is given to an individual or institutions that have taken active efforts in reducing disaster risk in their communities and advocates for disaster risk reduction.

The award team was impressed with the achievement of the NARRI Consortium in working together in the fields of disaster risk reduction and resilience.

Farah Kabir, Country Director of ActionAid Bangladesh, who accepted the award on behalf of the consortium said:

Had we not taken the plunge to come together and form NARRI it would not have been possible to ‘act as one’ and leave our footprint in Bangladesh and in the disaster risk reduction and resilience sector

The NARRI Consortium is made up of ten international NGOs which have demonstrated the scale of impact which can be achieved through working in collaboration.

Farah Kabir accepts the UN Sasakawa Award on behalf of the NARRI Consortium

The consortium has worked with communities to reduce the risk of disasters, developing mass media campaigns, piloting new disaster risk reduction and setting standards, working in partnership with the Bangladeshi Government. NARRI works actively with women, making it unique. NARRI being the Bangla word for woman.

NARRI shares this year’s award with Brazilian city Belo Horizonte, emerging successfully from a list of a list of 28 individual, cities, institutions and networks that were nominated.

ActionAid won a Sasakawa certificate of distinction in 2007 for its disaster risk reduction work in schools.

The Bangladesh factory collapse - no accident

Gemma.Pitcher — Wed, 22 May 2013 12:56:17 +0000

Even now, I feel like I’m still inside the debris, amongst the heaped dead bodies and buzzing flies. Hearing the screams of the survivors, the screeching of the industrial machinery lifting away concrete slabs and the wails of thousands of desperate relatives huddled outside, pleading for news...

So wrote Amir Tamal from ActionAid Bangladesh in a letter to our supporters recently. Amir was among hundreds of ActionAid staff and volunteers who rushed to the scene of the Rana Plaza factory building collapse near Dhaka, Bangladesh in April. His account of the disaster makes chilling reading.

The collapse was the worst structural failure in modern human history and the death toll to date is 1127 people. Pressure is on retailers around the world, quite rightly, to examine their supply chains and hold the contractors who make cheap clothes to account for workers' safety.

Add your signature to our open letter to Australian retailers here.

The vast majority of the people who died at Rana Plaza - and the vast majority of Bangladesh's garment factory workers - were young women and girls. Survivors say they were threatened with a month's pay cut, or even a beating, if they didn't go back to work in the building, which had been declared unsafe the day before. When it collapsed, the building's emergency exit doors were locked, and many workers were unable to escape in time.

"Don't speak bullshit" one male supervisor apparently spat at a female worker. "The building is safe!"

A very important part of the solution to preventing tragedies like this occurring again is to make sure that the women and girls who work in garment factories, in Bangladesh and around the world, know about their rights under national labour laws, and feel strong and confident enough to stand up for them. In many cases, simply the knowledge that the women in their factories have received labour rights training is enough to stop factory owners and managers from exploiting them.

The Rana Plaza tragedy showed very clearly that the balance of power between the (mostly female) workers who sustain Bangladesh's $20 million garment industry and the (mostly male) factory owners and managers who reap the profits from their work has to change.

In Bangladesh, India and around the world, ActionAid works with local partners to bring rights training and legal advice to the poorest and most vulnerable factory workers. In Bangladesh, for example, our Rights Cafés provide safe spaces where women can get together and learn about their legal rights to prompt pay, safe workplaces, adequate annual and maternity leave and a say in how their factories are managed.

The Rights Cafés in Bangladesh and our rights programs in India have grown and nurtured strong women leaders like Shilpy and Rukmini, who are able to pass on information and inspiration to hundreds of their co-workers, ensuring that workplace conditions improve for everybody.

“There is no abuse, beating or sexual harrassment on the garment floor anymore. Now this can’t happen because we know it is wrong”

Shiply told us proudly.

But there's so much more to do. The more female garment workers we can reach and empower, the stronger the movement for change will become. The women workers in Bangladesh are forming a movement to lobby the government to make real, lasting reforms to labour laws and practices, and make sure they are enforced.

This beautiful photofilm by Australian photojournalist Nicola Bailey illustrates perfectly how women can take their destinies into their own hands and prevent tragedies like the Savar collapse from happening again. Click on the picture below to watch and share it, and we hope you'll also donate much needed funds to boost our work with women workers like these around the world.

Savar incident

amiruzzaman.tamal — Fri, 26 Apr 2013 00:01:08 +0000

I hear wailing horn of the ambulance losing to sirens from a heavy jeep hoisting the flag of Bangladesh and being escorted by special order protocol men carrying walky-talkies, dust masks and khaki vests making haste to make way behind their goggles. Critically injured survivors needing transfer to any hospital inside the city will have to suffer this tailback ordeal – I keep thinking zeep-ing towards the site this morning.

55 minutes after, this is Savar – away from the bustling capital Dhaka, except for now all the bustle seems to pack around Rana Plaza – the 8-storey building that caved in on hundreds of garments workers 24 April morning. Fissures in the concrete beams were visible the day before and concerned architectural experts said,

No one goes in!

Well, no one did, except for a few hundred garments workers, mostly women in their twenties and thirties, who were allegedly “forced” to get to work in this risky structure in a bid to making up for the hartal (general strike) hours to meet international buyers’ deadlines.

Dead lines… dead bodies… bodies bent in the waist… hurled into a flat mound… squeezed between ceiling and floor… dislocated limbs… and then the latest addition – the stench of dead people still trapped under the debris. Buzzing flies too.

I hear hydraulic lifters and metal clanks. People screaming, wailing, whistling, instructing, requesting, enquiring, clapping, ordering. I see people, in thousands – huddling shoulder to shoulder. I see people with no training in rescue wrapping up the head with a white bandana, brandishing an air freshener and off into the debris.

Inside the collapsed structure, survivors are still breathing. In every five minutes or so, bodies are brought out of the debris in stretchers and carried in ambulances either to temporary morgue raised in nearby school compound or to hospitals for treatment. I have come across four dead people stuck in debris.

Rescue work is seen considerably slow as a result of the sordid lack of proper equipments and electricity. Heavy columns were hammered down and rod sheets cut manually. But then portable electric-generators arrived. Hundred of locals and trained urban volunteers have joined hands with Fire Service and Civil Defence departments. Many organisations have supplied food items and emergency saline water. A number of media are active on the spot with live feed to online and cable channels. Rescuer-manned pickup trucks and ambulances carrying injured survivor or dead bodies moving away from the site in extreme frenzy.

The army and BGB battalion are seen to be more engaged in controlling crowd with little success. Thousands of people who are family members of the deceased/survivors and onlookers are congesting adjacent roads. The lack of proper coordination among government departments are arguably contributing to the slow rescue.

Government’s public display shows the number of deaths by the evening today 208, of which 154 have been handed over to relatives. More than 300 survivors are being treated in different hospitals in Savar and Dhaka. Rescue workers have made wholes in fallen concrete structure to fan in oxygen and supply food/water if possible. But we fear there won’t be any survivors to rescue after today.

ActionAid Bangladesh supplied food-water and rescue equipments to fire service and their trained volunteers. We continue to monitor the whole premises for discrepancies and communicating it to local administration on site for immediate action.

We talked to people, moved concrete blocks, supplied water and food, took photos, tried to control the waves of inquisitive crowd. We inspired rescuers and gave a few some rest while we joined hands. But I had to hop into an ambulance carrying a dead body of a woman. Many came rushing with laminated photos to ask if the face of the deceased showed resemblance to any. After 30 hours of the incident, no one could differentiate a face.

The search continues. Khadija hasn’t given up on her daughter Shefali Begum, an operator whose station was in the fourth floor. Khadija wails,

Give me my daughter – dead or alive. I just want my daughter back. Give me!

What will you say if I theorize a little bit?

What if I say, “Profit maximisation is disproportionate to worker rights”? I know my country hasn’t seen many such urban collapses and hence lacks in expertise to handling such situation. But what if I told you the list of unfit structures are not available to public query. What if I told you that the building was originally permitted to have 5 floors only? What if I told you the garments workers were threatened with a cut in their wage if they didn’t get in for work?

What if I told you I still feel I’m inside that ‘pancake’ debris?

Garment workers in Bangladesh: the Savar tragedy

amiruzzaman.tamal — Fri, 26 Apr 2013 00:00:20 +0000

I hear the wailing horns of the ambulances and other sirens from vehicles showing the flag of Bangladesh. They're being escorted by special order protocol men carrying walkie-talkies, dust masks and khaki vests making their way behind their goggles. Critically injured survivors needing transfer to any hospital inside the city will have to suffer this tailback ordeal – I keep thinking, zipping towards the site this morning.

55 minutes later, this is Savar – away from the bustling capital Dhaka, except for now all the bustle seems to pack around Rana Plaza – the 8-storey building that caved in on hundreds of garment workers on the morning of 24 April.

Fissures in the concrete beams were visible the day before and concerned architectural experts said;

No one goes in!

Well, no one did, except for a few hundred garments workers, mostly women in their twenties and thirties, who were allegedly forced to get to work in this risky structure in a bid to making up for the hartal (general strike) hours to meet international buyers’ deadlines.

Dead lines… dead bodies… bodies bent in the waste… hurled into a flat mound… squeezed between ceiling and floor… dislocated limbs… and then the latest addition – the stench of dead people still trapped under the debris. Buzzing flies too.

I hear hydraulic lifters and metal clanks. People screaming, wailing, whistling, instructing, requesting, enquiring, clapping, ordering. I see people, in their thousands – huddling shoulder to shoulder. I see people with no training in rescue, wrapping up the head with a white bandana, brandishing an air freshener and off into the debris.

ActionAid Bangladesh are supplying food, water and rescue equipment to the fire service and their trained volunteers. We continue to monitor the whole premises for discrepancies and are communicating it to the local administration on site for immediate action.

We talked to people, moved concrete blocks, supplied water and food, took photos, tried to control the waves of inquisitive crowds. We supported rescuers and gave a few some rest while we offered a helping hand.

I had to hop into an ambulance carrying a dead body of a woman. Many came rushing to us with laminated photos to ask if they resembled the deceased. 30 hours after the collapse, no one could differentiate a face.

Khadija hasn’t given up on her daughter, Shefali Begum, an operator whose station was in the fourth floor. Khadija wails,

Give me my daughter – dead or alive. I just want my daughter back. Give her to me!

The search continues. Inside the collapsed structure, survivors were still breathing. Every five minutes or so, bodies are brought out of the debris in stretchers and carried in ambulances either to a temporary morgue raised in a nearby school compound or to hospitals for treatment. I have come across four dead people stuck in the debris.

Rescue work appears to be considerably slow as a result of the sordid lack of proper equipments and electricity. Heavy columns were hammered down and rod sheets cut manually. But then portable electric-generators arrived. Hundred of locals and trained urban volunteers have joined with Fire Service and Civil Defence departments. Many organisations have supplied food items and emergency saline water. A number of media people are active on the ground, with live feed to online and cable channels. Rescuer-manned pickup trucks and ambulances carrying injured survivors or dead bodies are moving away from the site in a frenzy.

The army and BGB battalion are seen to be more engaged in controlling crowd - with little success. Thousands of people who are family members of the deceased/survivors and onlookers are congesting the adjacent roads. The lack of proper coordination among government departments are arguably contributing to the slow rescue.

The government’s public display today shows the number of deaths at 208, of which 154 have been handed over to relatives. More than 300 survivors are being treated in different hospitals in Savar and Dhaka. Rescue workers have made holes in fallen concrete structures to fan in oxygen and supply food and water if possible. But we fear there won’t be any survivors to rescue after today.

What will you say if I theorise a little bit?

What if I say, "Profit maximisation is disproportionate to workers' rights"? I know my country hasn’t seen many urban collapses and hence lacks the expertise in handling these situations. But what if I told you the list of unfit structures are not available to public query? What if I told you that the building was originally permitted to have 5 floors only? What if I told you the garment workers were threatened with a cut in their wage if they didn’t get in for work?

What if I told you I still feel I’m inside that 'pancake' of debris?

Yara, una rifugiata siriana in Libano

hannah.burrows — Tue, 16 Apr 2013 11:25:38 +0000

È lì sullo sfondo. Un vecchio televisore scassato. Sullo schermo vediamo le ultime immagini che raccontano la situazione in Siria. Il volume è disattivato. Non servono le parole. File di corpi senza vita allineati a terra. Sono le nuove vittime della guerra.Yara* ci racconta che ha dovuto abbandonare i fratelli in Siria. Non ha modo di chiamarli e le notizie dei telegiornali sono l'unico aggiornamento che ha.

Quando Yara ci accoglie, intorno a noi c'è un'atmosfera di apparente normalità che colpisce. A differenza di tante altre famiglie siriane che abbiamo incontrato qui in Libano, non vive in un rifugio di fortuna, ma in una casa. Quando entro nella sala principale dell'abitazione, vengo riportata immediatamente alla realtà: la stanza è stipata di bambini. Nella casa vivono due famiglie, 14 persone in totale.Yara è fuggita dalla Siria con il marito e sei bambini. Hanno trovato rifugio in Libano, nella Valle della Bekaa, dove vivono con il cognato e la sua famiglia. Suo marito non ha un lavoro e non possono permettersi un'abitazione.

Yara racconta come era la vita in Siria.

"Era disastrosa. Non c'erano sevizi, né lavoro. Vivevamo chiusi in casa. I bombardamenti colpivano a meno di 100 metri dalla nostra abitazione. Ero terrorizzata ogni volta che mio marito usciva in cerca di lavoro, o per andare alla moschea. Temevo che non avrebbe più fatto ritorno a casa".

"Negli ultimi quattro mesi prima di fuggire" - continua a raccontare Yara. - "mio marito non ha mai potuto lavorare. Vivevamo con quel poco che riuscivamo a recuperare giorno per giorno. Poi sono in un profondo stato di depressione e ho perso quasi 12 chili. Potevo sopportare la povertà, ma non il terrore quotidiano provocato dai combattimenti. Così abbiamo deciso di scappare".Il volto di Yara è pallido e scavato. Mentre ricorda l'esperienza vissuta in Siria, sembra che un peso insostenibile si abbatta sulle sue spalle. La paura vissuta negli ultimi due anni ha profondamente segnato la sua esistenza.

Provo a parlare con lei del futuro. Le chiedo quali sono le sue speranze. Ma il discorso ritorna sempre all'esperienza vissuta. "Vorrei tanto ritrovarne la tranquillità e cancellare la paura dalla mente delle persone. Abbiamo convissuto con l'orrore della guerra per due anni e per ora non ci sono segnali di cambiamento. Io cerco di guarire le ferite che porto nel cuore. Spero davvero tanto di ritrovare la serenità".

L'incontro con Yara deve ricordarci che i rifugiati siriani non hanno solo bisogno di un aiuto materiale. Noi di ActionAid ci impegneremo per organizzare gruppi di supporto per i rifugiati. Lo faremo perché per aiutarli a ricostruire le loro esistenze serve assistenza psicologica e supporto emotivo. Sono persone che hanno vissuto in un paese devastato dalla guerra. In tanti hanno perso i propri cari e sono stati testimoni di un orrore inimmaginabile.

Continuate a seguirci e a sostenere i nostri progetti.

*Non utilizziamo il nome vero per motivi di sicurezza.

Struggling to get by after 8 months of living as a refugee from Syria

hannah.burrows — Mon, 08 Apr 2013 12:46:00 +0000

Rasha says her family were lucky to get out of Syria alive. They fled the fighting in Syria eight months ago and now live in the Bekaa Valley in Lebanon close to the Syrian border.

There was constant and heavy fighting in her town. Bullets were fired into their home. “One of them passed by my child’s head,” she says.

The family were so scared that their home would be bombed, they slept under the trees outside it.

Keeping a roof over their heads

In an attempt to protect her family, Rasha convinced her husband and eldest son to move to another town in Syria to try to find work and she brought her two daughters and three youngest sons to Lebanon.

But like Amalia, Rasha and her family have survived the war only to face a whole new set of difficulties in Lebanon. For Rasha life as a refugee means a daily struggle to feed her family and keep a roof over their heads. She says,

You would have cried if you’d seen us…I came here with nothing, we had no food… we didn’t bring anything, just the clothes we were wearing.

Seeing Rasha in such a hopeless situation, a Lebanese man cleared out an old storage room for the family to live in. They spent the bitterly cold winter months with no running water, kitchen or bathroom.

We’d put a bowl outside and wash in it, my daughter would hold a blanket up for me. People would bring us food.

Struggling to make ends meet

Rasha’s landlord let them live in the storage room for free at first, but now he has started charging rent. The family is registered with UNHCR and receives fuel and food vouchers, but she says that they are spending double the amount they receive on food and cannot afford their rent.

Rasha and her family have been in Lebanon for eight months now and are still borrowing money from neighbours and selling the few mattresses and blankets they have to scrape together the money they need to pay their rent.

If we don’t find the money to pay the landlord we will have to move into a tent.

Like many Syrian refugees in Lebanon, Rasha and her family are trying to rebuild their lives, but with no savings, few job opportunities and a cost of living which is far higher than they were used to in Syria. They are struggling to get by.

Syrian refugees in Lebanon urgently need support to meet their basic living costs including rent, food, water and electricity. ActionAid is establishing a programme to provide financial assistance to the most vulnerable refugees, but we need your support to do so.

Donate to the Syria Crisis Appeal

Life inside the refugee camp

hannah.burrows — Wed, 27 Mar 2013 14:59:57 +0000

Today it is hot and the sun burns down on the camp. Men and women sit on the floor, squeezing into the small piece of shade cast by their tent; some watch children play in the gravel, some simply stare out across the plain of the Jordanian desert.

Hundreds of refugees wait to register at the entrance to Zaatari Refugee Camp. Women hold small children in their arms, some carry suitcases and small bags, others have come with nothing but the clothes they are wearing. Driving around the perimeter of the camp offers a glimpse into what life is like here – the world these new arrivals are entering into.

There is so little to do here that many pass the time by talking. They tell each other their stories – of what life was like in their town or village under the conflict, of the moment they decided to leave, of loved ones they left behind. Many describe lives under fire; weeks spent hiding in shelters or basements, of bombings and air strikes on their homes and villages, of houses burned, of fleeing under gun fire.

A young man tries to explain what life was like in Syria before he left. He stops midway and shows me instead with a video on his phone. It is a scene of chaos – shooting, shouting and screaming. A burned body is covered and a man is rushed into an ambulance. His wife tells him to put it away, that no good can come from remembering what happened.

Others busy themselves with daily tasks; carrying buckets of water back and forth from the large tanks dotted around the camp, sweeping out the dust from their tents, or pinning out the few clothes they have on the strings which snake between the thousands of tents and prefabricated units.

The majority of people I speak to feel safer here, but the sound of bombing over the border is a reminder of the ongoing destruction of their country, a sign that this tented city could be their home for weeks, months, or even years to come.

Donate to our Syria Crisis Appeal

'When the bombs were dropped our house shook'

hannah.burrows — Fri, 22 Mar 2013 15:31:02 +0000

The intense fighting in the towns and villages across Syria has led to 1.1 million people fleeing the country in search of safety. For Nessrine and her family it was not only the terror of living in a war zone, but also the deterioration of their living conditions and the inability to meet their basic needs which forced them to flee.

Nessrine speaks slowly and quietly as she explains the reason she and her family left Syria.

There was bombing everywhere, there were airstrikes…when the bombs were dropped our house shook.

We couldn’t buy anything, we had no bread, no water and no electricity for the last five months we were there… I have six children and I have to feed them so I decided to come here.

But Nessrine and her family have moved from one desperate situation to another. After many months of not working in Syria, they arrived in Lebanon with no money and barely any belongings:

We didn’t bring anything with us. We need everything. We don’t have any clothes apart from what we have on. We don’t have much food.

The eight family members live in a small tent on the edge of a field. All they own is a few thin mattresses and a couple of blankets – everything has been given to them by neighbours or the local mosque. Outside they have one pan which sits over a small stove. They cook outside, have no toilet, shower, or even a source of water.

Nessrine says she left Syria because she needed to feed her children, but she is facing the same difficulty in Lebanon:

At the moment I am relying on my brother, who sent us some rice and sugar, and money from neighbours.

The burden of providing for her family sits on Nessrine’s shoulders. She explains that her husband is not able to work and that in Syria she was a farmer responsible for earning the income to support the family.

I need to get a job as my husband cannot work. The most important thing is for my children to be fed.

It is difficult to imagine how long Nessrine and her family can live like this. But the family will face difficulties in finding accommodation here. More than 360,000 Syrian people have flooded into Lebanon over the last two years, increasing Lebanon’s population by an estimated 10 per cent.

The influx of people has had a huge impact on the economy. In some areas of Bekaa, the cost of rent has doubled as a result of increased demand, and the sheer number of people in such a short space of time has meant there is a lack of safe and affordable housing for Syrian people. Refugees have resorted to building makeshift shelters from plastic sheeting and pieces of wood.

ActionAid will be supporting some of the most vulnerable refugees in Lebanon, like Nessrine and her family, through livelihoods programmes which will help refugees to support themselves.

Donate to the Syria Crisis Appeal

'Living in limbo' - life as a refugee

hannah.burrows — Thu, 21 Mar 2013 14:07:19 +0000

Last week I travelled to Lebanon to meet some of the other Syrian people forced to flee the conflict and seek refuge there.

There are now more than 360,000 Syrian refugees in Lebanon, and the number rises daily. It’s difficult to comprehend this many people, all attempting to support themselves in a new country.

Some of the Syrians I met here are fortunate enough to have come from relative wealth - their savings are rapidly depleting, but for the moment they can get by. Others are entirely dependent upon the support of friends and family or the goodwill of neighbours. Some are living in makeshift accommodation they have built themselves, and one family I met are struggling to cover their food costs.

But what was common amongst all of them was a sense of loss and displacement. Many families told me about the horrors that they and their children have witnessed and the family and life they’ve left behind.

I met people who have been in Lebanon for two years and who fled the moment the protests started, to people who arrived less than a week ago. Without exception, every single person I met was desperate to return to their country, to rebuild their lives and raise their children in Syria. All of them living in limbo and not one managing to find a sense of stability in life as a refugee.

I have been shocked and astounded by the level of pain and suffering I have encountered over the last week. Before I came to work on this emergency I thought I was relatively well-informed about this crisis, but I realise that the majority of things I had read or watched on the news over the last two years were about how the conflict is playing out.

The numbers of dead in Syria and the numbers of refugees – the quick facts which get people’s attention - are always in the media. But the stories from the ordinary people at the heart of it are not being heard.

Over the next few weeks we will be sharing the personal stories of some of those people.

Please, donate to the Syria Crisis Appeal

Syrian refugees are "all yearning to go home"

richard.miller — Mon, 18 Mar 2013 14:38:51 +0000

I'm writing this having just returned from Jordan, where every day refugees from Syria pour into the country in their thousands, increasing the pressure on the scarce resources available at the Zaatari refugee camp and local communities.

Two years on from the start of the Syrian uprising, it’s clear to me things are getting worse – 8,000 people are now fleeing the country every day.

This week I went to Zaatari, which was set up in the desert just eight months ago close to the Syrian border, to provide shelter for the growing influx of refugees. Now home to over 100,000 people, it’s a challenging environment for people to live in - dry and dusty in the day and cold at night. As we move into summer, temperatures will reach up to 40° and people are crowded into tents or prefabricated huts.There I met Homdiyah, a 70 year old woman who has been living here for four months. In her care she has her five orphaned grandchildren. Homdiyah told me they have nothing. They arrived with only the clothes they were wearing, and her son carried her 3km to the border as she was unable to walk. Our work here is based on listening and responding to what people tell us they need – which helps give people back some dignity and power in their lives. In Zaatari we are providing urgently needed, basic items such as a change of clothes and soap – small items, but essential to people’s well-being.

Women told us before receiving their kit, that they had to wash their clothes every night, sometimes having to put on wet clothes because they had no alternative.

We also plan to work in Zarqa city, where there is no refugee camp, and people are living amongst local communities. Prices are comparatively high for the refugees and people are struggling to support themselves, usually crowded into poor quality accommodation with multiple families sharing the same small flat. Many are unable to find work.

Everyone I spoke to has been deeply affected by the crisis in some way. Family members have been killed, their homes have been destroyed, they are separated from loved ones with no idea of when or if they will see them again. Many broke down in tears as they told me their story and yet they are all yearning to go home.

There is an urgent need for psychological support to help people come to terms with their loss and new found status. Even once the war is over there will be a risk of mental scars for years to come unless help is given now.

ActionAid is appealing urgently for more funds, but with millions of people in dire need of help more also needs to be done by the international community.

>> Donate to our Syria Crisis Appeal