Joyce’s Story: A Fighter’s Heart

Anne, LHI Refugee Resettlement Manager, with Joyce and two of her children.

In 2013, Joyce and her family were living in Juba, South Sudan, when simmering political instability and ethnic tensions boiled over into violent civil war. Rebel groups began battling government forces for control across the country. Innocent civilians were caught in the crossfire, targeted for arbitrary reasons. Business owners, teachers, journalists, and aid workers became marked individuals. Others were singled out based on their ethnicity, political affiliation, or social status. Thousands of people were massacred. Sexual violence against girls and women was rampant and children were forcefully recruited by militias.

Juba was very tribal. If they saw someone who went to school or studied, like my husband, it could cause trouble. There were a lot of fights that broke out and it was very hard for us.

Joyce found herself embroiled in a nightmare when her husband, targeted for his perceived status as an educated businessman, was kidnapped by militias. Fearing for their lives, Joyce and her children boarded UNHCR trucks full of other terrified women and girls. The trucks carried them for hours until they crossed the border into Uganda.

A neighborhood in Kampala.

But her challenges were far from over. Everyday life in the overcrowded and impoverished urban refugee settlements in Kampala was extremely difficult. The hospitals didn’t have mattresses, sheets, or lights. Food and clean water were scarce, and they often faced dangerous outbreaks of cholera.

We had to be self-reliant, but most of the refugees couldn’t afford to. The other girls and I moved from place to place. We washed clothes for people, did some laundry for them, just to earn a living.

As a mother, Joyce faced even greater dangers. One of the girls she came with on the trucks was kidnapped and smuggled back to South Sudan where she was beaten to death. The girls’ family, blaming Joyce for their daughter’s death, demanded she give up her first-born daughter as compensation. Others in the community also began pressuring her to marry off her daughter.

In South Sudan, when you have female children, they are seen as wealth. They can be married off at any time. They have no rights to go to school. I didn’t go to school, and was also married at an early age. I didn’t want my daughter to be taken.

Despite the violence at her doorstep, Joyce was a fearless community leader, speaking out against gender-based violence, child marriage, and domestic abuse. She urged women to stand together and fight for their daughters’ right to an education. Her work even caught the attention of the UNHCR in Kampala, who recognized her ability to bring women together.

I just wanted a free space for every child, for every girl, to go to school. Not to be forced into marriage. The child has a right to decide, to be a better person.

Jaron, LHI’s COO, with a refugee family in Kampala.

Joyce’s brave activism stood up to the power of community elders who exploited young girls for their own personal wealth and gain, but it didn’t come without a personal cost. She was accused of spoiling her children, and going against tradition.

I became an enemy to the community. People started asking, “Where does Joyce live? What is Joyce doing?” I was targeted, and in 2023, I was attacked in Kampala. I was beaten until I bled, and was unconscious for 3 days in the hospital.

The UNHCR began to recognize that the situation had become far too dangerous for Joyce to stay in the camp. For Joyce and her children to have any chance at survival, they would have to move elsewhere.

In January 2024, a decade after fleeing South Sudan, Joyce and her children resettled in America through the US Refugee Admissions Program (USRAP). Though finally safe, she was completely alone. With no connections in the area, she relied on a caseworker assigned to her family to adjust to daily life in the US. But their time was limited, and Joyce knew she would need more support to rebuild her life.

I landed in Syracuse, New York, and I felt lost in an unknown land. I didn’t know anyone. I didn’t know how to get to the market or the hospital. The caseworker couldn’t just drive me all around. My children had no one to talk to.

But Joyce had a close friend living in Utah named Peninah who she grew up with and considered a sister. She knew that being near Peninah would make her new life much easier, so she contacted the US Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS) for help.

I had been traumatized and beaten. I didn’t know whether my husband was alive or not. I didn’t know how to start life. But when I came to Utah, I felt like I was at home. I could smile because I had my sister. She could drive me around, and she could help if I had any issues. My children could talk to her children at school, and they could use the bus together.

Joyce’s new apartment was completely unfurnished, and her family had been sleeping on the floor.

Shortly after arriving in Utah, Joyce met Anne, LHI Refugee Resettlement Manager. At the time, Joyce’s new apartment was empty—they had no mattresses to sleep on or winter clothes to wear. Anne and LHI’s volunteer do-gooders in Utah made sure to give Joyce and her children a proper, warm welcome. They delivered furniture and clothing from the LHI Humanitarian Aid Warehouse directly to her door, set everything up, and ensured that Joyce’s family had all the supplies they needed.

When we first came to Utah, we were sleeping in the cold. I didn’t have any clothes. But Anne came into my life like a guardian angel. She brought us everything. She didn’t only give me clothes and mattresses, she also encouraged me. She made me smile. I felt so motivated.

With Peninah and organizations like LHI at their side, Joyce and her family are thriving in Utah. Joyce is taking classes to earn her GED and her children are enrolled in school. They’re finally able to access the education she spent so many years fighting for.

I’m just happy that my children are in school, where their teachers smile at them. And education has no age limit. I will go to school until I finish because I still have a fighter’s heart.

I still want to support the young girls. I’m still fighting for them not to be married off, for them to have the right to go to school. That’s why I’m studying hard in the US. I’m taking any opportunity to support the girls of the future and the girls back home. This is my goal now.

Joyce’s brave advocacy for the rights of girls and women came at a huge cost, and it was critical that her family be resettled outside of Uganda. However, for many other women around the world, safety is now further out of reach. With the suspension of the USRAP, thousands of vulnerable women who have endured brutal displacement and violence are now even more isolated, trapped in dangerous conditions. US budget cuts have also decimated programs that help newly arrived families like Joyce’s.

But we’re making up for what has been lost. In Utah, we’ve restored maternal healthcare for pregnant moms and wellness checks for families. Abroad, we’re helping refugee women build paths forward and achieve self-sufficiency through mental healthcare, professional development, and entrepreneurship.

Now more than ever, we are committed to helping refugees, at home and abroad.

FAQ: What’s Happening to Refugees, at Home and Abroad?

Unprecedented changes in US policies are deeply affecting humanitarian organizations and the refugees they support. It can be hard to keep track of how budget cuts have impacted the humanitarian field, so we put together this guide to break everything down.

An LHI food distribution for Rohingya refugees in Bangladesh.

What do humanitarian aid organizations do for refugees?

Millions of people who have lost everything—their homes, livelihoods, belongings—depend on humanitarian aid organizations to survive and rebuild their lives. .

Humanitarians provide aid to help people who have been forced to flee their homes from violence, natural disasters, or instability. They distribute food, medicine, clean water, clothing, and other essentials. Humanitarian organizations also build and run important infrastructure like schools, hospitals, and shelters, as well as provide essential services for mental health, education, professional development, and resources to help generate income.

An LHI aid distribution for children in Afghanistan. We go the extra mile to include handmade stuffed animals, quilts, and “You Are Loved” cards.

Why does the US government provide funding to humanitarian aid?

Some humanitarian aid organizations receive funding from the US government. By doing so, the US advocates for human rights, promotes global stability, and supports the world’s most vulnerable people.

Providing humanitarian aid abroad helps prevent crises from getting worse, reduces the risk of widespread instability, and strengthens America’s relationships with other countries. It also addresses the root causes of forced migration, like violence and famine.

The US government also provides funding to organizations that help resettle newly arrived refugees. This ensures that refugees can successfully become part of American society by reducing their dependence on government assistance in the long run. Integrating refugees into their new communities also boosts local economies by strengthening the workforce and fueling economic growth.

We provide Ukrainian frontline hospitals with essential equipment.

Who is being affected by cuts to US humanitarian aid?

Millions of people depend on humanitarian aid to make it from one day to the next. Recent federal budget cuts in aid have already caused a sudden, devastating impact around the world.

• Nearly $500 million worth of food is rotting at ports as refugees in Sudan, Bangladesh, and Ethiopia fight hunger and famine.

• Medicines and antibiotics are expiring, instead of treating sick and elderly refugees in Myanmar.

• Hospitals in Ukraine aren’t receiving the supplies needed to operate on injured civilians.

• Clinics across Uganda and South Africa have shut down, leaving people without HIV medication and increasing the risk of infections.

• People displaced by violence in the Democratic Republic of the Congo don’t have access to clean water.

What else has been suspended or cut?

The US Refugee Admissions Program (USRAP) has been suspended, shutting America’s doors to thousands of refugees—including those who were already approved for resettlement. Check out our article here for more information on the USRAP suspension, and what the resettlement process involves.

In addition to the USRAP suspension, funding has been cut off for NGOs that help refugees after they’ve relocated to the US. These NGOs act as a support system for new arrivals, and without them, many refugees in the US are lost with no one to turn to.

Anne, LHI Refugee Resettlement Manager, met Ivone the day after she resettled in Utah. With the support of organizations like LHI, Ivone’s family was able to integrate into their community. Now, Ivone has graduated from high school with honors and is going to college.

What’s happening to the refugees who have already resettled in the US?

Transitioning from a refugee camp to everyday life in the US can present a whole new set of challenges, which is why caseworkers are essential. Each newly arrived refugee family is assigned individual caseworkers to help them make sense of their new home. Caseworkers ensure children are enrolled in school, parents find jobs, and bills are paid. They guide families on how to get around their new neighborhood, access English classes, and book doctors’ appointments.

Recent funding cuts have forced many organizations to lay off their caseworkers. The remaining staff are overwhelmed and unable to meet the needs of struggling families. Newly resettled refugees have been left with no one to help as they navigate their new lives. Isolated and uncertain, they are left wondering if they are truly welcome here.

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How is LHI responding?

We’re making up for what has been lost. Our team has been working around the clock to expand our programs: maternal healthcare, shipping more international aid, providing goats to build self-sufficiency in refugee camps, and conducting wellness checks for isolated families—whatever refugees need, we’re there—ensuring that refugees aren’t forgotten.

How can you help?

Act today to ensure that refugees continue receiving support:

• Donate to LHI. We completely depend on donations from individuals like you!

• Get your friends, family, or co-workers together to make aid kits based on our needs list.

• Share our posts on social media to spread awareness.

• Sign up for our newsletter to stay up to date on what’s happening in the humanitarian field.

• Volunteer at LHI: In Utah, we need volunteers to help out with care for pregnant moms and wellness checks for new families. Contact anne@lhi.org to start your background check—it’s free to you—and we’ll connect you with our refugee neighbors.

Rebuilding and Healing: The Unrecognized Bedouin Women of the Negev

At 62 years old, Layla lives alone in a settlement so remote and small it doesn’t appear on any map. Her daughters married and moved to other villages long ago, and her only son tragically died in a work accident 15 years ago. For the past 40 years, her home has been a small, makeshift shack of wood, corrugated iron, and barbed wire on her ancestral land.

One day, while cooking over an open fire, an accidental splash of oil sparked a blaze that quickly engulfed her home. Luckily, she managed to escape, but suffered severe burns on her hands and arms. The fire destroyed everything—her modest belongings, important documents, and, most heartbreakingly, the cherished photos of her late son.

“All my memories disappeared in a minute.”

Unfortunately, Layla’s story is far too common for the roughly 100,000 Bedouins in southern Israel’s Negev desert region, who live in settlements that don’t officially exist—at least in the eyes of the Israeli government. Classified as an “illegal settlement,” these villages are denied the most basic means of survival. There’s no electricity to light their homes or power air conditioners in the brutal desert summer. Running water is unavailable to drink, clean, or cook with. With few employment opportunities and even fewer schools and health clinics, people are trapped in a perpetual cycle of poverty, disease, and unemployment. They have no one to turn to when disaster strikes.

Sidreh volunteers organizing aid and donations.

Our partner organization, Sidreh, is a lifeline for women in the most vulnerable households of the unrecognized villages. At their Emergency Supplies Room (ESR), injured mothers and sick children can access basic medicines, hygiene items (like diapers), and heal both physically and emotionally thanks to Sidreh’s free healthcare and their volunteers’ warm support.

Layla’s hands, burned by a fire that reduced her home to ashes.

The remains of Layla’s home.

Homeless and injured, Layla sought help at Sidreh’s ESR. A volunteer, trained for this kind of situation, was able to provide her with crucial first aid, including burn cream, bandages, and painkillers for her injuries. Layla moved into a small outbuilding owned by one of her relatives and Noor, Sidreh’s ESR Coordinator, stepped in to offer further support—food for the weeks ahead and donations of blankets, solar lights, furniture, and other essentials.

Beyond physical recovery, Layla now faces the daunting task of replacing her lost documents — an almost insurmountable challenge for someone who doesn’t speak Hebrew and has no legal address. But she’s not alone. Sidreh is committed to supporting Layla as she faces the legal process and regains a sense of stability.

A glimpse of Sidreh’s ESR, filled with medicine, food, and diapers.

Over in the remote village of Tel Arad, life presents unrelenting challenges to 39 year old Amal. She lives on the edge of survival, struggling to feed and raise her four young children, aged 2 to 5 years old. With no jobs to be found in or near the village, her husband spends most of the month living on a construction site far away, with his meager paycheck barely covering his living expenses and those of his family. Amal has no way of getting to the city without him, so when her toddler developed a high fever late one night, panic quickly set in. Painkillers and fever reducers are too expensive, and ambulances do not serve her village. Amal was consumed by worry.

Women can feed their families with food supplies from the ESR.

Fortunately, Amal was well aware of Sidreh’s ESR—she’d recently taken diapers and some food from the room when she couldn’t make ends meet. Knowing Sidreh’s ESR volunteer would be sympathetic, she walked over to her, despite the late hour. “I’m afraid the fever will get worse and I have no medicine,” she said, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. “I’ve heard of children dying from fevers. Getting medicine is the most important thing right now.” 

The volunteer, responsible for managing the aid room, swiftly provided the necessary medication. Reflecting on the encounter, the volunteer later shared, “I’m so proud to be part of this project. It’s impossible to describe my feelings when I see mothers’ happiness in getting the simplest medicines for their kids. Until this room opened, you can’t imagine how difficult it used to be.” 

Compassionate volunteers organizing donations at the ESR.

Despite their impoverished living conditions, Layla, Amal, and the thousands of other Bedouins in these rural villages remain dedicated to their ancestral, tribal land. They’ve lived there for generations, caring for their animals and crops. Leaving for the city—as the Israeli government has been pressuring them to do—would mean giving up the way of life they’ve always known, and ceding their land to Israeli settlements. 

The Israeli government may refuse to recognize their villages, but we see them, and we’ll ensure that they are not forgotten. With Sidreh’s compassionate support, Layla and Amal can access vital resources—food, medicine, and economic opportunities—that allow them to hold on to their way of life. In a land where their presence is denied and ignored, Bedouin women continue to stand strong, and thanks to Sidreh, they do not stand alone.

A Photographer’s Perspective: Capturing Strength in Ukraine

By Shannon Ashton, LHI Board Member

Shannon Ashton recently visited Ukraine with Hayley, LHI’s Founder/CEO, and Mary, LHI’s Board Chair, to witness the impact of our programs firsthand.

In Lviv, women and children fleeing devastation in eastern Ukraine find refuge in our shelter and strength at our Center for Women’s Development—safe spaces where they can begin to heal from the ongoing trauma of war. Over shared meals and afternoon tea, our team listened as women shared their stories of immense loss, resilience, and hope.

A professional photographer, Shannon has documented LHI’s work since 2015. On this journey, she captured powerful moments of grief and strength, preserving the stories of those rebuilding their lives under the threat of Russian occupation.

Day 1: January 17, 2025

To enter Ukraine from the west we have to fly into Krakow, drive to the Ukraine border, and then walk across to where our partners meet us. It’s a bit of a roll of the dice as to how long it can all take but Krakow has become an important outpost on these journeys.

Today we visited a military cemetery that is unfortunately growing by the day, and was one of the most heartbreaking experiences of the journey. I had visited this cemetery less than 12 months ago when it was much, much smaller and I was taken aback by how it has swelled in the time since. As we silently walked through the rows of fallen soldiers, we looked up to see a caravan approach and realised we had become the unintentional guests of a newly fallen soldier’s funeral ceremony.

We watched as their fellow comrades in arms, family members, and friends gathered in song and salute to honour this brave patriot. We paid our respects by kneeling in the snow as the coffin was carried up to the top of the cemetery hill to reach its resting place. I wept tears of grief that took me off guard. I, a mere visitor, had no right to these tears, but I was overcome with sadness at this loss and the many others before me. To my Ukrainian friends, I offer you my heartfelt compassion and love as you continue to suffer the hardship and losses of this war.

Day 2: January 18, 2025

We spent an incredibly moving afternoon attending the Center for Women’s Development in Lviv. We met women who’ve become widows or otherwise suffered great personal losses in this war, who are struggling to find a way forward from the traumas they’ve experienced. Their stories are heartbreaking. This incredible women’s center offers highly trained psychological support that helps these women heal, and provides a safe space for meaningful connection and community. Ultimately this gives them hope and support through the darkness of war.

The impact of a casual afternoon tea social like the one pictured above is immense and far reaching. The tragedies of this war are legion but centers like this are providing tools and opportunity for hope—and hope is everything. I cannot say enough about the women running this operation. They are highly qualified professionals with hearts of gold.

Day 3: January 19, 2025

Today I met 87 year old Raïsa and her daughter. They’re so sweet! They recently fled the east of Ukraine and arrived at the LHI Women’s Shelter in Lviv. I’m so struck by their soft spoken nature. They are so lovely! They have endured so much trauma and they arrive here with heavy hearts. Raïsa survived the bombing of World War II, and never thought she would have to go through it again for a second time.

Staying in a humble shelter with wooden bunks is no one’s idea of a happy way to spend your later years. Raïsa and her daughter should be enjoying a peaceful life in their hometown, but this war continues to rage on. Our shelter is providing a lifeline for many women like Raïsa. I hope for peace in Ukraine so that all can return to their rightful homes. I stand by Ukraine in sharing these stories.

The above photo shows many other residents of the shelter with our wonderful partners who lovingly run this facility.

Day 4: January 20, 2025

I’m now back from Ukraine. The war rages on. Bombs are still dropping. People are still hungry and cold, in dire need of aid and evacuation. The oppression of war looms overhead, bringing destruction and threatening to rob people of peace and freedom.

Amidst all of this, many good hands are working to help those most severely affected by the trauma of this war. People are bringing medical supplies to the front lines, offering shelter to the displaced, providing psychological support to the emotionally scarred and so, so many other good things. The work being done by our teams on the ground is truly heroic. Meeting with them and seeing first hand the efforts they are engaged in is like standing among the greatest of humanitarian giants.

US Refugee Resettlement: What’s Actually Going On

Confused about the suspension of refugee admissions into the US? A lot of people are. There is so much information, both true and false, swirling around that it's easy to feel totally lost. We wrote this to guide you through the chaos.

Afghan refugees hold placards during a meeting to discuss their situation after President Donald Trump paused US refugee programs, in Islamabad, Pakistan, Jan. 24, 2025. (AP Photo/Anjum Naveed)

On January 20, the US government suspended the US Refugee Admissions Program (USRAP), shutting America’s doors to thousands of refugees at the height of the world’s largest displacement crisis. This unprecedented decision—which became effective on January 27—has thrown the futures of countless people into disarray, including those who had already been approved to begin a new life in the US.

Joyce, a single mother of five from South Sudan, resettled in Utah with the hope of building a safer future. Though happy to finally have a home of her own, her apartment was completely unfurnished, and her family had been sleeping on the floor for weeks. When we arrived with mattresses, furniture, and soft bedding, her children finally had a warm, comfortable place to rest. After the unimaginable difficulties of the refugee journey, we were happy to give Joyce’s family a warm welcome.

Over 10,000 refugee flights have been cancelled because of this move. Behind each of these flights is a person who has been waiting for months, if not years, to start a new life as an American. Among them are people waiting to reunite with their families, to practice their faiths and freedoms, to escape torture and death. They were promised safety in the US, and that hope has been stripped from them.

No one chooses to be a refugee. When people are displaced by violence, instability, or natural disasters, they are forced to leave everything they know behind—their homes, belongings, and livelihoods. They embark on a long, difficult journey of rejection after rejection, uncertain of where they will end up.

Mendora was born and raised in an impoverished refugee camp in Kenya, where she never had enough blankets or clothes. Thanks to the USRAP and our Welcome Program, Mendora and her family are now learning English, she’s enrolled in school, and they’re integrating into their community.

On top of the hardships that come with being displaced, the path to being resettled in the US is exceptionally difficult and long. The UN High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) approves of less than 1% of all refugees globally to be resettled in another country. Of that miniscule percentage, an even smaller number are referred to the US. Each person must then undergo the USRAP’s lengthy vetting process, one of the hardest pathways to immigrate to the US. This painstaking application consists of in-person interviews where people are scrutinized, recounting their traumatic stories again and again. To ensure they pose zero security risk, they complete rigorous background checks and security screenings.

Our incredible volunteers make our work possible. We will not abandon our refugee neighbors.

The administration’s decision will impact our Welcome Program, where we furnish and prepare apartments for newly arriving refugee families. As we monitor the status of the USRAP, we will adapt our programs in Utah to empower our refugee neighbors on their paths to self sufficiency.

We stand with refugees, and will continue delivering compassionate care and aid at every step of their journeys. Next, we’ll be sharing updates on how federal funding cuts to refugee-supporting NGOs are affecting resettlement efforts—and how we’re stepping up to ensure families in Utah aren’t forgotten.

Bridging the Gaps for Communities in Donetsk

By Anastasiia Shelukhina, LHI Ukraine Partnership Manager

With plummeting temperatures and dwindling resources, survival in frontline villages throughout Ukraine’s Donetsk region grows increasingly desperate. These communities are cut off from the world—bridges and infrastructure have been destroyed, government aid is an empty promise, and most NGOs have abandoned the area, leaving these villages to endure the worst of the war. Russian forces loom ever closer, threatening to engulf what remains of their homes and lives.

Yet, even in these dire circumstances, our team, Ordinary People, refuses to abandon them. Braving extraordinary dangers, they deliver coal, winter shoes, and blankets—lifesaving provisions for a brutal winter. In this journal, LHI Ukraine Partnership Manager, Anastasiia Shelukhina, recounts a mission to the villages of Yalta and Myrne, where the team faced dire challenges to reach those who need help the most.

Anastasiia with Tetiana, Ordinary People’s SMM specialist.

Day 1: December 19, 2024—Yalta Village, Donetsk Region

With a mix of anticipation and anxiety, we began our first winterisation project of the season early in the morning. Questions plagued our minds: Would there be enough coal and shoes for everyone? Would the bags remain intact? Would we face issues at the checkpoints?

Our first stop was at the house of the local coordinator, Nataliia. She greeted us warmly and showed us her chickens and pigs. Her voice trembled and tears welled up in her eyes as she spoke of the possibility of leaving them behind.

Outside, people were already gathered, waiting patiently to receive their coal. Ordinary People’s team members, Oleg and Yurii, jumped in to help unload the bags—each one weighed 25 kilograms. They came up with a clever idea to use a beam to lower the heavy sacks. It worked perfectly, and soon everyone was pitching in to help.

Meanwhile, I spoke with a local woman who told me that Yalta village has had no electricity or gas since early December. The government keeps promising electricity, but people don’t believe it will come anytime soon. The latest government commitment— an aid delivery by January 3rd—was met with skepticism.

Sudden machine gun fire in the distance reminded us to hurry. Coal was dumped straight onto the ground, and the villagers worked together like a well-oiled machine, hauling the heavy bags and receiving their shoes.

We met a young boy among the villagers.

Among the villagers, we spotted a child. We couldn’t leave without giving him a small gift—a blanket and a school bag—and it sparked a moment of joy despite the looming danger.

As we drove away, the sky lit up with the most stunning sunset. It felt like the perfect way to end a challenging but fulfilling day. We made a difference, and that’s what mattered most.

Day 2: December 20, 2024—Yalta Village, Donetsk Region

The bridge used to reach rural villages in Eastern Ukraine.

We woke up to alarming news: the bridge we crossed yesterday was damaged and mined overnight. The realization hit hard—if we had been delayed by just one day, we wouldn’t have been able to deliver coal to the people in Yalta. With no choice but to adapt, we found an alternative route to Yalta and pressed on.

Oleh distributing warm hugs and blankets to the elderly residents of Yalta.

This time, our focus was on distributing food kits and blankets to elderly individuals. It was also a chance to check the coal’s quality, talk to people, and see their living conditions. Despite their poverty, one thing stood out—every house and yard was clean and tidy.

A man gratefully shared that “One bucket [of coal] lasts almost the whole night.” The villagers’ appreciation was overwhelming, and some even said, “This is too much.” My response was simple: “Take it—no one knows when we’ll be able to return.”

Midway through the day, the White Angels—an evacuation and paramedics team from the Donetsk Regional Police—received troubling news. Another bridge near Andriivka was destroyed. Despite the tense atmosphere, we quickly managed to visit four more houses, ensuring everyone received their supplies.

Day 3: December 21, 2024—Myrne Village, Donetsk Region

With the bridge situation unresolved, we shifted our efforts to Myrne village. This time, we prepared for our largest distribution thus far—21 tonnes of coal, or 10 bags for each family. When we arrived, people were already gathered and waiting patiently.

Yuri, Anastasiia, and Oleh with a resident of Myrne village.

Two amazing coordinators, Nadiia and Lidiia, were there to assist, keeping the mood light with jokes. One man had the brilliant idea to divide the 10 bags into smaller amounts for easier handling. The system worked perfectly, and everyone waited calmly in the queue.

The villagers were incredibly welcoming. They offered us candies and coffee, and their open, talkative nature lightened the load of a heavy day. By the end of the distribution, we felt a deep sense of accomplishment.

Vira and Galyna are two friends who live near Myrne village. They helped with coordination.

That same evening, we packed up and headed back to Kharkiv, reflecting on another successful mission. But, as we looked back on the day’s events, it was impossible to ignore the growing difficulties—the lack of electricity and gas, and the uncertainty about when or if help will come again.

The villages we visited are becoming isolated, both physically and in spirit. The damaged bridges are more than just logistical challenges; they are a stark reminder of the broken connection between these communities and the outside world. Every delay in delivering aid, every empty promise from officials, and every broken piece of infrastructure pushes them closer to despair. Despite everything, the people we met showed incredible strength. They keep their homes clean, work together, and find ways to stay hopeful.

As we drove back to Kharkiv, we couldn’t help but think about how important it is to keep supporting these villages. Even though the roads are difficult, we must return and remind them that they are not forgotten.

Thank you to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and their charity organization, Latter-day Saint Charities Australia (LDSCA), for their generous support of this winterization mission.

Mission of Resilience: Part II

By Anastasiia Shelukhina, LHI Ukraine Partnership Manager

Come with us to the frontlines of conflict in Ukraine, where resilience and hope shine brightly, even amidst the shadows of war. In October 2024, LHI’s team undertook a four-day journey to deliver aid to struggling frontline villages in the embattled Donetsk region. LHI Ukraine Partnership Manager, Anastasiia Shelukhina, documented this powerful mission in a journal.

Over the first two days, the team visited the villages of Pokrovske, Prosiane, and Odradne, distributing food kits, hygiene products, medical supplies, and other essentials. Despite the pain of war, the villagers shared stories of hope, greeting the team with warm smiles and gestures of gratitude. Anastasiia found herself deeply inspired by their unity—a poignant reminder of humanity's capacity to support one another during the hardest times.

Check out Part I of her field journal here.

Below, Anastasiia recounts the latter half of their mission, as they braved the risks of drone strikes to continue delivering life saving aid to those who need it most.

Day 3: October 9, 2024

As the day began, we sipped coffee and prepared for our mission to Rozdol’ne. We presented our documents as we passed through the checkpoint for approved entry into the village. On the way to Rozdol’ne, two members of the White Angels—an evacuation and paramedics team from the Donetsk Regional Police—joined our team. They warned us that enemy aircraft were looming nearby, making us vulnerable to airstrikes. Before we could safely continue, we had to wait until the drone wasn’t on our radar. As the wait dragged on, we heard that 4 enemy UAV drones were in the air over Velyka Novosilka village, just a few kilometers from our stop. Once we finally received a signal that the threat had been repulsed, we quickly left for Rozdol’ne village.

Distributing aid under the shelter of trees in Rozdol’ne.

We arrived in Rozdol’ne to the sounds of nearby explosions, with local residents waiting for us under two large trees. The active front was very close, and we were still worried about the threat of drone activity. The village head, Lyudmila Petrivna, urged everyone to receive aid  as quickly as possible, and despite the tense threat of nearby war, we found comfort in the community’s joy.

Iryna is from the rural village of Zhelanne, which was invaded by Russian forces in October 2024.

One woman named Inna approached me, eager to share her family's story. She revealed that her mother had nine children, and unfortunately, only four of her siblings were still alive. Our conversation was cut short by the urgency of the situation, leaving little time for deeper exchanges.

I also met a well-dressed 76 year old woman with bright red lipstick named Olga Mykhailivna, who received a lovely pair of shoes. Before we left, she kindly asked us to notify her before our next visit, so she could prepare us some savory, deep fried turnovers called chebureky. Her warm gesture touched our hearts and reminded us of the importance of hope during these difficult times.

Meanwhile, Dr. Vlad was busy providing consultations, and was able to see seven patients in total. He expressed disappointment at not being able to help more people, but I reassured him that every bit of support mattered. Before leaving, I hugged Lyudmila Petrivna, the village head, assuring her that our team would return soon. Time was of the essence, and our safety remained a top priority.

On our drive back, we stopped at the White Angels’ house in Bahatyr village to deliver winter car tires for their evacuation vehicle. We thanked them for their invaluable support and contemplated the possibility of adopting a few cats from Velyka Novosilka during the team's next visit.

We collected beautiful red peppers from this field near Bahatyr village.

On our way out, we spotted a field bursting with ripe red peppers. The locals generously offered them for free, urging us to hurry before any shelling resumed. With a few beautiful peppers in hand, we finally returned safely to Pokrovske.

But our mission wasn’t over just yet. The cost of rent in the front-line settlements of the Dnipropetrovsk region, where families from the Donetsk region have been evacuating to, has skyrocketed due to the exponential demand from both civilians and military members. Our final stop was to provide support for a family who was resettled near Pokrovske, and has been struggling with the high cost of living.

Their children, still shocked by the loss of their home, quietly accepted their gifts and quickly returned to their room. We spoke with their mother and agreed to continue our support in the future.

Day 4: October 10, 2024

With the dawn of a new day and bright sunshine, we went to the warehouse in Prosiane. Our mission was to load a bus with essential items, school kits, and toys for 150 children in Prosiane village. We carefully chose blankets, backpacks, and diapers, ensuring we had everything necessary for the little ones.

Yurii distributing toys to children in Prosiane.

By 10 a.m, families were already gathered in the square, eagerly waiting for our arrival. We began distributing the kits, calling out names for families to come forward. The joy on the children’s faces when they received backpacks and toys was heartwarming; they immediately started playing with their new treasures. I joined in the distribution, engaging with local women to discuss their needs, specifically regarding diapers. They requested larger sizes for our next visit, and we promised to bring them.

Once the distribution was complete, we loaded up the remaining items and headed to a nearby cafe for coffee. Children played with local cats and dogs, filling the atmosphere with laughter and warmth. Safely back in the city, we reflected on the day’s experiences and the connections we had made.

This mission showed me the incredible strength and kindness of the people living amid chaos in the Donetsk region. Families who had lost everything still welcomed us with warm smiles. Even with the pain of war on their shoulders, they shared stories of hope and support. Their resilience was inspiring—a true reminder of how strong and united people can be, even during the hardest times.

Meet Elinah: Rewriting a Refugee’s Narrative

By Elinah Iraguha

In October, our team traveled to Uganda for our largest ever Animal Tracks distribution of goats, chickens, and pigs for refugees. During our trip, we sat with recipients to listen to their stories and understand their unique circumstances. This is the story of Elinah, a young woman who persevered through the challenges of life in a refugee camp to pursue her dream of education. Elinah was our translator inside of the camp and she speaks 4 languages! She also sells banana drinks in the market. Now, thanks to Animal Tracks, Elinah has two pigs, which will help her achieve financial stability on her journey to university.

Meet Elinah!

My name is Elinah Iraguha. I’m a 25 year old woman and refugee staying in the Kyaka II refugee settlement in Uganda. I’m the first born of my family, and I live in the camp with my father, my daughter, and my seven younger siblings.

My life has been a series of hardships and triumphs. From a young age, I knew nothing outside of life in the camp, where makeshift tents served as homes and dreams were often stifled by the harsh realities of displacement. Opportunities were scarce and hope seemed like a distant dream. Despite these challenges, I held on to my dreams of education and a better future. I attended the rudimentary primary school nearby, cherishing every moment of learning amidst the chaos and suffering of the camp.

In 2018, life threw me a curveball. My parents didn’t have the funds to provide me with further education. This forced me to look for a job to financially support my family and pay for my siblings’ school fees. Unfortunately, I was not able to find steady employment, and could only volunteer with organizations.

Elinah chatting with Roman and Jessica in the Kyaka II refugee settlement.

In 2019, I was 20 years old and found myself facing the unexpected. I was pregnant. Fear and anxiety gripped my heart as I grappled with the responsibility of raising a child on my own. My parents were unhappy with me, others in the camp judged me, and the child’s father, denying his responsibility, abandoned me.

Then, tragedy struck when I lost my mother to illness. My pillar of strength and support was gone, and my father, struggling with mental illness, began suffering from alcoholism. I was left feeling utterly alone with the responsibility of caring for my baby and seven siblings. I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders, and I even considered committing suicide.

Amidst the darkest days of my life, I found an unyielding resolve to carve out a better future for myself, my child, and my family. I was determined to defy the odds stacked against me, and would do everything in my power to return to school. Through the African Women and Youth Action for Development (AWYAD), I received counseling and guidance, and thanks to a UNHCR education partner, I received support for tuition. My neighbor took care of my child as I studied. Despite the challenges of balancing motherhood and academics, I poured myself into my studies. Each day, I embraced every opportunity to learn and grow, fueled by love and hope for a better future.

In 2023, I proudly completed my secondary level studies as a student parent. Against all odds, I not only finished, I excelled, scoring high marks in biology, agriculture, nutrition, math, and writing. News of my achievement spread through the camp, igniting a spark of hope against the shadows of despair.

Today, standing on the precipice of a new chapter in my life, my eyes are set firmly on the horizon of possibility. I have taken the bold step forward of applying for a scholarship to university. For me, this is not just an opportunity for education, it is a chance to rewrite the narrative of my life. As I wait for the outcome of my application, I know that whatever the future holds, I will face it with the same courage and resilience that has carried me this far.

My journey from a refugee camp to the halls of academia is not just a testament to my resilience, but a beacon of hope for all who dare to defy the odds and forge their own paths.

Mission of Resilience: Bringing Aid and Hope to the Donetsk Region

By Anastasiia Shelukhina, LHI Ukraine Partnership Manager

Since the war in Ukraine began in 2022, over 1.2 million people have been forced to flee the embattled, eastern Donetsk Oblast. With three-fifths of the region under Russian military occupation, life for Ukrainians has become increasingly more difficult and dangerous. Over the past two months, Russian forces have advanced at a rapid pace, seizing several eastern Ukrainian towns. Many of those who remain in towns like Pokrovske, Prosiane, and Odradne are elderly, with little access to essentials, medical care, and psychological support. Despite these challenges, residents remain steadfast and resilient, determined to stay in their hometowns.

Last month, LHI’s team conducted a series of aid deliveries to struggling, frontline villages throughout the Donetsk region. LHI Ukraine Partnership Manager, Anastasiia Shelukhina documented her heroic journey in a journal. Her story highlights LHI’s exceptional ability to deliver aid where other organizations can’t, and the importance of hope for those living near the frontlines in Donetsk.

Anastasiia and Oleh, ready to deliver boxes of aid to the Donetsk region.

Day 1: October 7, 2024

Our journey began around 10:30 a.m. as we set off from Kharkiv, determined to reach our aid warehouse in Pokrovske as swiftly as possible. Known as the "western gate of Donbas," Pokrovske is a small town at the edge of the embattled Donetsk region. We traveled in a convoy led by an ambulance, followed by a bus with our five-member team. Among us was also Dr. Vlad, who regularly joins our missions and provides psychological support sessions for those persevering through the dangers of life near the frontlines.

When we arrived in Pokrovske, we met with Alyona Levterova, a representative of the military administration for the Volnovakha district. We discussed our upcoming humanitarian efforts and the challenges of helping the local population prepare for the winter. It felt great to know that we have open channels of communication and that our connections with the local authorities are solidifying.

Meanwhile, Yurii, Oleh and Dr. Vlad prepared a delicious barbeque. We exchanged stories under the rain and went to bed anticipating the productive days ahead.

Anastasiia, Yurii, and Oleh heading into Odradne village. 

Day 2: October 8, 2024

At 8 a.m., we hit the road to pick up food kits, hygiene products, and medical supplies at the humanitarian aid warehouses in Pokrovske and Prosiane before heading to Odradne village for distribution. The weather was surprisingly warm and sunny for October, lifting our spirits. At the time, I was unaware of the risk that comes with clear skies.

Before we could leave the Prosiane village warehouse, some local women invited us for a quick coffee and tea. As we sat down, I noticed a laptop open to a guide entitled, "How to React and Act During Chemical Weapons Attacks." The reality of war was right in front of us. And yet, in the same moment, our hosts enthusiastically shared their community initiatives. One woman, beaming with pride, told us they had submitted a song to a local contest. Their ability to continue creating, sharing, and celebrating life in the face of danger left a deep impression on me.

A group of young men from the White Angels—an evacuation and paramedics team from the Donetsk Regional Police—accompanied us to our next location, Odradne village. The White Angels lead humanitarian efforts at the frontlines amidst constant shelling and enemy advances, all without coordination or support from the military. One of the men, just 24 years old, mentioned he had written his resignation letter. With quiet frustration, he said, “They don’t give us anything. We’re on our own for everything.” It was a stark reminder of how the system often fails those on the frontlines, leaving them to navigate war on their own.

Anastasiia with the kind residents of Odradne village.

When we finally arrived at Odradne village, the residents were already gathered and waiting for us. The paramedic-midwifery center in Odradne has been closed since the beginning of the war, and the last time Doctors Without Borders came to the village was in March of this year. With no other options, Dr. Vlad immediately began providing his psycho-emotional support consultations in our local coordinator’s home. For Ukrainians who have chosen to stay in their homes, these sessions are especially important, reminding residents that we’re by their side.

As we began distributing aid, the residents moved like clockwork, quickly forming a human chain to pass down the boxes. We distributed clothes that had come from the U.S., prompting a few jokes about shoes that didn’t quite suit village life. Laughter filled the air as people tried on shiny boots better suited for a night out than the dirt roads of Odradne.

One woman approached me, requesting diapers for her bedridden mother. As we started talking, she mentioned that it hadn’t rained in a long time, the fields were dry, and the sun didn’t bring much joy anymore. Oleh warned me that Russian forces target humanitarian workers more often during sunny weather, turning my enjoyment of the clear skies into quiet dread.

When we arrived at the woman’s house later that day with the diapers, she broke down in tears, explaining how expensive they were and how impossible it was to find them in their isolated village. As a gesture of gratitude, her daughter insisted on giving me several jars of home-canned zucchini and cherries.

Mykhailovych and Yurii with our delicious zucchini.

Our day ended back at the warehouse in Povkrovske, where we finally had a chance to rest. Dr. Vlad cooked a delicious meal of barbecue and buckwheat. We opened one of the gifted jars of zucchini—it was the tastiest zucchini I ever had—and reflected on the day’s events over dinner.

By the end of the first two days, I felt a mix of exhaustion and gratitude. Meeting people who showed such kindness and strength despite the hardships reminded me of the real purpose of our work and why we always return. We had come to bring help, but we left with a deeper sense of hope. Each interaction, warm smile, shared laugh, or small gift fostered a deep sense of community that thrives even in these difficult times. Looking ahead, we were ready for new challenges, knowing that each stop would bring more stories and moments to remember.

Love from eastern Ukraine!

The Long Road to Safety

By Ihor Tereshchenko, LHI Ukraine Country Director

Ihor with Stas, LHI Lviv Shelter manager and evacuation coordinator from NGO I Am Not Alone, at the entrance to Zaporizhzhia city.

Our evacuation trip to Zaporizhzhia and Pavlohrad was not only long and exhausting, but also emotionally draining. We covered over 2500 kilometers (1600 miles) in three days, navigating dangerous, war-torn regions with little to no rest. From Lviv, we made our way to Zaporizhzhia, where we picked up a group of civilians displaced from the frontlines. They were silent and withdrawn, weighed down by loss and uncertainty. Most were elderly individuals or mothers with children, their eyes hollow from the constant strain of living through war.

In Pavlohrad, we were supposed to pick up a second group of evacuees from Pokrovsk, a city now largely reduced to ruins. But fate had other plans. After surviving the destruction of Pokrovsk, the group found themselves bombarded once again in Pavlohrad. The emotional and physical toll was too much. Physically and emotionally exhausted, they made the difficult decision to stay in Dnipro for a few days to recover and plan their next steps.

One of our evacuees, Oleh, a retired teacher from Orikhiv, shared his story with us. His hometown, just 8 kilometers from the front line, was reduced to rubble. The only remnant of his old life was a refrigerator, somehow untouched amidst the ruins. "We have nothing left," he said, "except memories and the hope that this war will one day end." For now, Oleh and his wife are heading to Denmark, where they will start over in a foreign land, completely uncertain of the future.

Then there was Andriy (name changed), a quiet, dignified man with noble gray hair. As the miles passed, he shared his own story. A priest and chaplain from a small town in Donetsk, Andriy was in western Ukraine when the war began. His mother, bedridden and elderly, was left behind in the occupied town. Despite numerous attempts to reach her, Andriy never succeeded. He spent months volunteering and helping civilians until he injured his arm during a recent shelling. His injury forced him to join our evacuation. He planned to reunite with his son in Vinnytsia for treatment and to figure out how to rescue his mother from the occupation.

We dropped Andriy off on a dark, deserted highway near Vinnytsia. All that remained of his past life fit into a small backpack. His eyes reflected his emotional scars and worry for his mother. Yet, his last words to us were filled with hope and faith: "God bless you. Help yourself and your loved ones. And believe in a near victory."

People boarding our bus in Zaporizhzhia for further evacuation.

As we completed the long journey back to Lviv, leaving behind the ruins, chaos, and heavy silence, it was impossible not to feel the weight of these stories. Each person we helped was carrying the loss of a home, a family, a sense of security that would likely never return. Yet, even in the face of devastation, hope persists. It’s found in the quiet resolve of Oleh, holding onto memories as their only connection to the life they once knew. It’s in the strength of Andriy, who, despite being torn away from his mother and his past, offered us words of faith and encouragement.

This trip reminded me that the road to safety and stability is long, and for many, it’s still uncertain. But with every kilometer covered, every person helped, and every story shared, we see that resilience remains. These are the people we serve—their courage inspires us to fight for their future. This is why we do what we do, even when the path is long and the road is hard. Because for these people, it’s a journey not just of survival, but of finding hope again.

Thank you to The 188 Foundation for funding our evacuation missions.

The Refugee Crisis in Lebanon

By Salsabila Nurhidajat

An IDF ground maneuver to southern Lebanon in September-October 2024 (Wikimedia Commons)

Over the past month, intensified Israeli military attacks on civilians in southern Lebanon and Beirut have resulted in a rapidly worsening humanitarian crisis.

In just two weeks, over 1,000 civilians have been killed and more than 6,000 have been injured (IOM). More than a million people—around a fifth of Lebanon’s total population—have been displaced, leaving their homes, belongings, and communities behind. Over 1,000 families are now living in shelters across Lebanon, and more than 175,000 people have fled to neighboring Syria (Save The Children Fund). 

This escalation exacerbates Lebanon’s existing social and economic crises. Lebanon already hosts the largest number of refugees per capita in the world, with an estimated 1.5 million Syrian refugees and 11,000 refugees from other nations living there (UNHCR). More than half of the Lebanese population lives below the poverty line, and many already need humanitarian assistance to survive (UNHCR). Because of the intensified conflict and displacement, most of Lebanon's 900 shelters are now at capacity, and they lack the resources necessary to properly house and aid people (Reuters).

As the conflict continues and further strain is placed on infrastructure, displaced people and refugees in Lebanon face increasingly limited access to food, healthcare, education, and other essential services (UNHCR).

At Lifting Hands International, we are committed to serving vulnerable communities most affected by conflict and will continue monitoring the humanitarian situation in Lebanon to effectively support our current partners in the region.

References:

IOM UN Migration, https://www.iom.int/lebanon-humanitarian-crisis

Save The Children Fund, https://www.savethechildren.net/news/lebanon-shelters-struggling-house-families-unprecedented-one-million-people-move-and-new

UNHCR, https://www.unhcr.org/lb/at-a-glance

Reuters, https://www.reuters.com/world/middle-east/most-lebanons-displacement-shelters-are-full-un-says-2024-10-04/

Meet Kira in Balakliya, Ukraine!

By Ivy Laidlaw-Morris

Eight-year-old Kira lives in Balaklia, a small village in northeastern Ukraine. Her favorite color is bright, bubbly, pink and her favorite scent is flowers. She loves taking walks with friends, especially in autumn. For Kira, happiness lies in surprises—unexpected gifts and moments shared with loved ones. In her future, she envisions herself as a successful programmer, creating innovations that improve lives and inspire others. She also has an even bigger aspiration of owning a cat one day! 

Everything about Kira would tell you she’s your typical, happy, eight-year-old girl, but what makes her truly special is her resilience. For half of her life, the world around her has been in crisis. She grew up during the uncertainties of the pandemic, and shortly thereafter, was forced into the realities of war. In March of 2022, Kira’s hometown of Balaklia was occupied by Russian forces, and despite the village’s liberation, the feeling of war still permeates everyday life for local residents.   

And yet, Kira keeps dreaming of her brightest future. She finds solace and support at our community center in Balaklia, where art therapy sessions provide a space for her to unwind, breathe, and create. LHI seeks to uplift Kira and children like her to follow their dreams… together, we want to build a future where eight-year-olds can be eight-year-olds, free of burdens of displacement, trauma, and violence. 

About Ivy: Hi, I’m Ivy, an intern working with LHI. Like Kira, my favorite time of year is autumn. My favorite thing to do in my free time is explore the nature of Brooklyn, and my favorite holiday is Halloween! Since I was little I’ve been involved with refugee aid through my parents, and LHI’s mission of uplifting and empowering those fleeing persecution and violence is so important to me. I look forward to continued work for and with those like Kira!

The Severe Humanitarian Crisis in Sudan

Key Facts and How You Can Help

by Andrea Bocskor

Newly arrived Sudanese refugees near the border in Adre, Chad. UNHCR/Ying Hu

The ongoing conflict in Sudan is a severe humanitarian crisis that has displaced the largest number of people in the world. Since 2023, rival military factions have brought war to the country, affecting millions with famine and mass displacement. Here are some key facts about the crisis:

• Approximately 10.7 million people (2.1 million families) are now internally displaced in Sudan (OCHA, IRC).

• Over 1.5 million Sudanese fled to neighboring countries, including the Central African Republic, Chad, Egypt, Eritrea, Ethiopia, Libya, Rwanda, South Sudan, and Uganda. (UNHCR)

• An estimated 25.6 million people—more than half of Sudan’s population—face acute hunger and require humanitarian assistance (CDP).

• More than 755,000 people are nearing famine, representing the biggest global hunger crisis (OCHA, CDP).

• Approximately 11 million Sudanese urgently need health assistance. Over 11,000 suspected cholera cases and outbreaks of measles, malaria, and dengue fever are ongoing in the region (WHO). 

• Around 19 million children have lost access to education due to the war. One in two Sudanese children–over 10 million in total–have been in an active warzone over the past year (Save the Children).

How LHI is Helping  

We are positioned to help Sudanese refugees in Uganda. We asked refugee camp managers in Uganda what recently displaced families from Sudan most urgently need. The answer? Shoes and school supplies. Many Sudanese children were forced to walk long distances en route to safety, often without footwear of any kind. Shoes and access to school offer displaced children some stability while living in one of the biggest refugee camps in Uganda, Bweyale in Kiryandongo District.

Help Us Expand Our Response

Your support enables us to expand our emergency response for Sudanese refugees to other locations closer to the epicenter of the crisis. Our team is currently investigating local partners and identifying needs that aren’t being filled by other humanitarian orgs. Here’s how you can contribute:

• Donate: Help us provide essential supplies and services, and expand our current emergency response. Your contribution will directly impact the lives of Sudanese children, women, and adults, helping them access essentials like food, water, hygiene items, and find hope amidst the crisis. Donate here

• Volunteer: Join our team to make a direct difference in the lives of refugees. Volunteers play a key role in helping us provide aid around the world. Learn more here

• Spread Awareness: Help us raise awareness about the crisis in Sudan. Share this blog through social media and conversations with friends and family. Spreading awareness is a powerful way to amplify our efforts and bring attention to the urgent needs of Sudanese refugees. 

Together, we can make a significant impact on the lives of those affected by the crisis in Sudan. Thank you!

Why Uganda?

Uganda is called the Pearl of Africa. It is a landlocked country in East Africa whose diverse landscape includes the snow-capped Rwenzori Mountains and the immense Lake Victoria. Uganda is also home to 1.7 million refugees (more than any other country in Africa). 

In fact, Uganda has a long history of hosting refugees and asylum seekers, including Polish refugees who fled Europe in the 1940s. Africa’s oldest refugee camp, Nakivale, was established in 1959 in Southwest Uganda and is still operating today. It is currently the 8th largest refugee camp in the world.  

Currently, most refugees come from South Sudan (57%), the Democratic Republic of the Congo (32%), Somalia (3%), and Burundi (3%).

Source: UNHCR

The last two years have seen a renewed surge in refugees fleeing to Uganda, as the country is sandwiched between two high conflict countries: Democratic Republic of the Congo and South Sudan.

The displacement situation in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) is the most complex and long-standing humanitarian crisis in Africa and the fourth largest internally displaced persons (IDP) crisis in the world. Fighting has been ongoing since the DRC gained its independence in 1960. However, in 2023, an escalation in fighting in the eastern provinces of the Democratic Republic of the Congo led to widespread human rights violations and gender-based violence. Congolese refugees fled mostly into southern and western Uganda. 

The Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) and the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF) in the Sudanese Civil War have also escalated again. Those two forces have been fighting since 2003 and the war in Darfur. Now, the United Nations considers Sudan and South Sudan the most dangerous countries in the world for humanitarian aid workers. Since the escalation in 2023, Sudanese refugees have fled to several neighboring countries, including northern Uganda. 

Uganda is one of the most accessible places for refugees globally, but it relies heavily on aid organizations to serve the refugee communities. Diminishing funding and limited resources mean there is less aid to help as new waves of refugees arrive. To promote self-reliance among refugees, we see a huge need for increased economic opportunities and livelihood support. Only then, can refugees truly integrate into their new homes and achieve the stability of a good life. 

In 2024, LHI expanded our livestock program to give goats and chickens to refugees in Uganda. We now work with two incredible refugee-led partner organizations based in Uganda. Livestock can make a significant difference in the financial stability of refugees in Uganda. 80% of the refugees in Uganda are women and children. 91% of Uganda’s refugee population are considered economically vulnerable. 

Often, many of the women have adopted grandchildren or children from their deceased siblings, which makes family sizes even larger. Nabakunda is the head of household with 14 people. She received two female goats from LHI, one of which was pregnant and quickly birthed a kid. She sold the goat kid to complete payment of her children’s school fees. Rather embarrassingly and disruptively, they kept being sent home from class because the fees were late. 

Verena received 34 chickens from LHI to help support her family of 9 people. She took classes through the refugee camp and came up with an idea for a small business. She used the income from her chickens to start the business selling flour, sugar, oil, rice, and tea in the local market. Now she has additional income to buy food and medicine for her family.

These are two of many success stories that showcase how livestock can empower refugees with stability and self-sufficiency. You can help support refugees like Verena and Nabakunda by buying a chicken or a goat at lhi.org/uganda

Life in the Shadow of War: A Journey to Velyka Novosilka

by Ihor Tereshchenko, LHI Ukraine Country Director

The sky over Velyka Novosilka, Donetsk Oblast, Ukraine, is shrouded in the gray shade of war. It is April 2024, and this is the second year of Russia's full-scale invasion of Ukraine. As I set foot on this war-torn land, the harsh reality of the conflict hits me in a way I could never have imagined. The people here are living on the edge of survival, but their spirit remains unbroken.

Ihor (left) stands in the village of Velyka Novosilka in Eastern Ukraine

Our mission is to deliver humanitarian aid to those who need it. I meet Svetlana, a local woman who has taken on the role of coordinator for her neighbors and friends. Despite the constant danger, she helps us distribute aid and provides a sense of normalcy amidst the chaos of this new reality. While the doctor is tending to the sick, Svitlana agrees to show me her apartment, or rather what's left of it.

The entrance to the building is marked with the word "People". It is a desperate call, a message to the Russian soldiers who could break into the city any day and who often "clean up" buildings in captured cities without regard to whether there are civilians or military inside. The sign is meant to protect, but its effectiveness is questionable. However, in the face of such uncertainty, hope clings to even the smallest gestures. 

Svitlana leads me to her top-floor apartment. She opens the door very carefully to prevent her cat from escaping. The cat, once a victim of cruelty, now cowers in fear of strangers. She once rescued this then kitten from a big dog, to which people had thrown it, and had abused it beforehand. The apartment is a shell of its former self. Windows shattered by relentless shelling, the balcony littered with broken glass, the wind seeping through every crack. It is no longer a home but a storage space for belongings and food.

In stark contrast, Svitlana's basement "room" tells a story of survival. It is a tiny, dark space, no larger than 2 meters by 2 meters, once a technical room now turned into her sanctuary. She has been living here for over two years, without electricity or water. Her main source of light is a makeshift lantern—a plate of sunflower oil with a smoldering string. This dim light is a ray of hope in the long, anxious nights for thousands of people like Svetlana - people for whom life ended in February 2022 and endless survival and struggle began.

Despite the dire conditions, Svitlana's resilience shines through. We step into the courtyard, and there, in the middle of the apartment building yard, where flowers once bloomed, stands a mini-farm. Svitlana grows fresh vegetables and fruits, a lifeline for the locals who have no access to fresh produce. Their only source of food is humanitarian aid brought by volunteer teams like ours. Her greatest pride is her strawberry bushes. As she shows them to me, her eyes light up. "In another month or so, we will have real strawberries. Can you imagine?" she says, her voice filled with hope.

Next to the strawberries, a broken tree stands as a reminder of the shelling the day before. The contrast is stark—while I can easily buy strawberries from a hypermarket across the street, Svitlana risks her life to grow them. Her determination to grow these little red gems in a war zone says a lot about the human spirit.

Svitlana's story is just one of many. The people of Velyka Novosilka live in constant fear, yet they find ways to adapt and survive. They have created a community of resilience, supporting each other through the darkest times. They remind me that even in the face of unimaginable hardship, the human spirit remains unbroken.

As I leave Velyka Novosilka, I carry with me a sense of awe and admiration for these people. Their strength and determination are a beacon of hope. They show me that even in the shadow of war, life goes on. And as long as there are people like Svitlana, there is hope for a brighter future.