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Around 96000 Rwandan women have been convicted on genocide charges for their involvement in the mass killings and are serving their sentences in 13 prisons across Rwanda.
Rwanda: Ngoma prison where female genocidares are serving their sentences for their involvement in mass killings. There are no separate rehabilitation programmes for female genocidaires and many struggle with reconciling what they have done with traditional perceptions of a woman's role.
Rwanda, Ngoma prison for female perpetrators.
What started as a mundane trip to fetch water for breakfast ended with Fortunate Mukankuranga committing murder. Dressed in an orange prison uniform and speaking in her dimmed, calm voice, she recalls the events of the morning of Sunday, 10 April 1994. As she was on her way, she came across a group of attackers beating up two men in the middle of the street. "When [the two] fell to the ground, I picked up a stick and said: 'Tutsis must die!'. Then I hit one of them and then the other one... I was one of the killers," the 70-year-old says. After her involvement in the slaughter, Mukankuranga, an ethnic Hutu, returned home to her seven children feeling deeply ashamed. Flashbacks from the crime scene would not stop haunting her. "I am a mother. I killed some children's parents," she says.
An an estimated 96,000 women convicted for their involvement in the genocide - some killed adults, like Mukankuranga, some killed children, and others egged on men to commit rape and murder.
There are no separate rehabilitation programmes for men and women. But, prison authorities put a lot of emphasis on encouraging female genocidaires to recognise their responsibility, arguing that their awareness was crucial to reconcile with their families. “Time is the main rehabilitation tool we use. We want to give them as much time as necessary to listen to them and to slowly bring them to the point of confession”, says Gracy Ndawanyi, director of the prison for female inmates in Ngoma, located in the Eastern Province of Rwanda.
"Genocide is a crime against whole communities. It damages not only the dignity of the victims, but also that of the perpetrators. And those people need healing as well," says Fidele Ndayisaba, executive secretary at Rwanda's National Unity and Reconciliation Commission.
There is a lot of emphasis that healing takes time and there are still some prisoners reluctant to reject the ideology of ethnic hatred. "Yes, we have some people denying their crimes. They are those hard ones, but their number is declining," says Mr Ndayisaba.
Rwanda, Ngoma prison
Rwanda, Ngoma prison
Rwanda, Ngoma prison
Rwanda, Ngoma prison
Female genocidaires who revealed the truth are encouraged to write letters to their families and relatives of their victims in order to regain the lost trust step by step.
Once released from prison, female genocidaires face very different challenges on their path to reintegration to the men. Some of their husbands have remarried and disinherited them from their property. Their home communities do not welcome them and they struggle with rejection by their closest family.
The women's participation challenges a stereotype in Rwanda of women as protectors and providers of a calming voice. "It is very difficult to understand how a mother who loves her children, would go to her neighbours' [home] to kill their children," says Regine Abanyuze, who works for Never Again, a non-governmental organisation promoting peace and reconciliation. Yet, once the spark for the atrocities was lit, thousands of women acted as agents of violence alongside the men.
But there are still some prisoners reluctant to reject the ideology of ethnic hatred. “Yes, we have some people denying their crimes. They are those hard ones, but their number is declining”, says Mr Ndayisaba. Odette Mukankusi, who is now 60, was among those who was hard to convince. She had incited her brothers-in-law to kill a neighbour and his 10-year-old daughter. Mukankusi stole a bag of potatoes from her victims’ kitchen. She cooked and served them to her seven children. “I did not feel anything. An order had been given to hunt and kill Tutsis. If these men hadn’t killed [my neighbour], I would have done it,” says Odette. “We were happy, because we killed the Tutsis. We would celebrate that victory. The cockroaches had been finished off,” she added while pointing with her finger to the floor as if she saw one there, an evil insect from the past.
Martha Mukamushinzimana is a mother of five children, who secretly carried the burden of her crime for 15 years, before she decided to report herself to the judicial authorities in 2009 as she could no longer live with the burden of her crimes.
When Martha was jailed in the Nyamagabe prison in Rwanda’s Southern Province, her husband had already been serving his sentence. In the traumatised post-genocide society, not one of her relatives was willing to take care of her five growing children. Her oldest daughter quitted school and took a job to provide for her younger siblings. All they were left with, were the memories of a loving mother. “If we were told that she is coming tomorrow, then we would be very happy to clean the house and make all the preparations to welcome her”, says 20-year-old Marie Claire, herself a mother of a two- year-old girl.
Church in Nyamasheke: The church was built in 1928 under the Belgian rule. It is located directly on the beautiful tree-lined shore of Lake Kivu, one of the great lakes of East Africa situated on the border to the Democratic Republic of Congo. Once surrounded by hundreds of Hutus brimming with deep hatred and Interahamwe militiamen equipped with machetes and grenades, the made of red-brick church has become a silence witness to the slaughter of 45 000 innocent Tutsis.
Church in Nyamasheke: The church was built in 1928 under the Belgian rule. It is located directly on the beautiful tree-lined shore of Lake Kivu, one of the great lakes of East Africa situated on the border to the Democratic Republic of Congo.
Thousands of Tutsis, crammed in and around the Nyamasheke Parish Catholic Church, fought for their lives for a week. Stanislus Kayitera, now 53, was one of the few survivors. His forearm bears a large and irregular scar from grenade shrapnel. "I remember women collecting stones and giving them to the men, who were throwing them at us. Men were also shooting, throwing grenades and pouring fuel over people and then setting them on fire. "Then, they stormed the church and started to kill us with clubs," says Mr Kayitera, who survived by hiding under the dead bodies.
South Sudanese refugees upon arrival at the Imvepi Refugee Camp in Uganda
South Sudanese refugees upon arrival at the Imvepi Refugee Camp in Uganda
South Sudanese refugees upon arrival at the Imvepi Refugee Camp in Uganda
South Sudanese refugees upon arrival at the Imvepi Refugee Camp in Uganda
South Sudanese refugees upon arrival at the Imvepi Refugee Camp in Uganda
South Sudanese refugees upon arrival at the Imvepi Refugee Camp in Uganda
South Sudanese refugees upon arrival at the Imvepi Refugee Camp in Uganda
Imvepi Refugee Camp in Uganda: Registration process of South Sudanese refugees.
As 63% of South Sudanese refugees are minors, the UN High Commissioner for Refugees Filippo Grandi described the exodus as the “children’s refugee crisis”. According to statistics more than 75 000 unaccompanied children have escaped South Sudan in the recent years.
As 63% of South Sudanese refugees are minors, the UN High Commissioner for Refugees Filippo Grandi described the exodus as the “children’s refugee crisis”. According to statistics more than 75 000 unaccompanied children have escaped South Sudan in the recent years.
Imvepi Refugee Camp in northwestern Uganda
Imvepi Refugee Camp in Uganda: Registration process of South Sudanese refugees.
Imvepi Refugee Camp in Uganda: Registration process of South Sudanese refugees.
Joan Jane is 28-year-old mother to six children. Her home town was attacked by rebels who killed her neighbours and stole the cattle. As she safety made to Imvepi Refugee Camp in Uganda, her husband was still trying to leave Juba, South Sudan.
As 63% of South Sudanese refugees are minors, the UN High Commissioner for Refugees Filippo Grandi described the exodus as the “children’s refugee crisis”. According to statistics more than 75 000 unaccompanied children have escaped South Sudan in the recent years.
As 63% of South Sudanese refugees are minors, the UN High Commissioner for Refugees Filippo Grandi described the exodus as the “children’s refugee crisis”. According to statistics more than 75 000 unaccompanied children have escaped South Sudan in the recent years.
Aloro Bosko is 38-year-old single father of twin girls: Mary and Estella, whose mother died shortly after giving birth. Aloro escaped his home village of Boma in the Yei River State and found safety at the Imvepi Refugee Camp in Uganda.
Imvepi Refugee Camp in Uganda: Registration process of South Sudanese refugees.
Imvepi Refugee Camp in Uganda: Registration process of South Sudanese refugees.
Imvepi Refugee Camp in Uganda. South Sudanese refugees waiting for the medical examination.
Imvepi Refugee Camp in Uganda. Medical check on the South Sudanese refugees.
Imvepi Refugee Camp in northwestern Uganda. South Sudanese refugees waiting for the food distribution.
Imvepi Refugee Camp in northwestern Uganda
Imvepi Refugee Camp in northwestern Uganda
Bibibidi Refugee Camp in northwestern Uganda
Betty is only 16, but already a single-mother of a two-year old daughter. Since the army of South Sudanese president Kiir launched attacks near her home village in the Yei River State searching for rebels, Betty has been on the run. "I was very frustrated and afraid to hear the gunshots every day. I thought: I will either die in Sudan or I will take the risk and try to escape”, Betty says. As her father refused to leave South Sudan hoping that he could soon come back to their farm, Betty joined a group of refugees determined to reach the Imvepi refugee camp in Uganda. “We walked for five days in the rain. But, I am happy now. I just want to take care of my baby and come back to school one day”, she explains.
Mariam along with her pregnant daughter and her three children managed to escape the conflict in South Sudan in august 2016. They found refuge at the Bidibidi Refugee Camp in Uganda. Mariam’s daughter pass away shortly after having given birth to her fourth child.
Around November 2016 rebels attacked Lucy’s home village Kay in South Sudan during which she got separated from her husband. Lucy managed to escape the civil war and found safety for herself and her only child at the Bidibidi Refugee Camp in northwestern Uganda.
Village for South Sudanese refugees near the Imvepi Refugee Camp in northern Uganda
Village for South Sudanese refugees near the Imvepi Refugee Camp in northern Uganda
Village for South Sudanese refugees near the Imvepi Refugee Camp in northern Uganda
Northern Uganda
Northern Uganda
Northern Uganda
Northern Uganda
Northern Uganda
Hospital in Koboko, northern Uganda:
Hospital in Koboko, northern Uganda:
Hospital in Koboko, northern Uganda:
Lukodi, Uganda: Kennedy Caymoi who lost many relatives during an LRA attack says Ugandans need reconciliation in order to close the painful chapter and move on
Hellen lost her husband and two children in an attack on the Lukodi community in May 2004, known as the Lukodi massacre, in which more than 60 people were killed. "I am unable to do anything but to carry my sadness deep inside myself. I feel hopeless. The trauma of what happened ... will never go away," says the 53-year old. Hellen says she feels marginalised and forgotten. "No justice has been done because the rebels have not been held accountable."
Lukodi, Uganda: "I have not forgiven rebels because none of them ever came to ask for forgiveness. I am still grieving," says Calvin Dcora, a 52-year-old man, lost one child and 18 relatives in an attack on the Lukodi community in May 2004, known as the Lukodi massacre, in which more than 60 people were killed by the Lord Resistance Army’s (LRA) rebels. Dcora knows one former LRA corporal who participated in the Lukodi killings and returned to the community, but never engaged in dialogue. In his opinion, Acholi cultural leaders could play a primary role in reuniting victims and perpetrators by arranging the traditional reconciliatory ceremony called Mato Oput during which both parties to the conflict drink a mixture made from the root of the oput tree in a sign of forgiveness.
Lukodi, Uganda: Dickens Omara was six years old when the LRA captured him and his father during an armed raid on his village in the Oyam district in northern Uganda in 2002. He was blindfolded, handed a knife and forced to stab his father to death. The LRA put Dickens through two months of military training and then forced him to join a unit of around one hundred child soldiers.  "Rebels teach you how to fight using a gun. They train you to kill. This is [the] children's job," he says.
During the nation-wide Black Protests in autumn 2016, thousands of women took to the streets to demonstrate against a bill proposing a total ban on abortion and prosecution of women who terminated their pregnancies.
Polish abortion law is one of the most restrictive in Europe. Abortion is legal when: - the pregnancy poses a threat to mother's health or life - the foetus would be born with terminal illness or severe disability - or if the pregnancy is a result of rape or incest or other criminal act.
Autumn 2016: Black Protests in Poland against a bill proposing a total ban on abortion and prosecution of women who terminated their pregnancies.
Black Protests in Poland: Women were demanding not only the rejection of proposed bill banning abortion, but liberalisation of the current restrictive law regulating the termination of pregnancies.
Fewer than 2,000 legal abortions take place in Poland each year. There are no official statistics on the number of women travelling abroad for the procedure, but experts estimate that the number could be between 100 000 and 150 000 a year.
There is common tendency of conservative doctors to lie to pregnant women in order to avoid the necessity of carrying out a legal abortion. Very often they also refuse to admit a woman to the hospital. Consequently, majority of women drive to clinics in Slovakia, Netherlands or to Germany. 
Poland: Women who participated in the nation-wide Black Protests demanded free access to abortion during the first 12 weeks of pregnancy to sexual education at school for teenagers.
Asim and Zeinab are two of the more than one million Syrians who have registered as refugees in Lebanon since the Syrian civil war began. A total of 1.5 million Syrians are estimated to be living in Lebanon, including those who are not registered refugees. Despite their growing frustration and depression, Asim and Zeinab have ruled out attempting to be resettled in Europe. "We would not consider the option [of going to Europe]. I prefer to eat a piece of bread with salt here - close to my country, rather than die abroad, where no one knows me," said Asim. He walks every day to a nearby hill, from where he can see the roof of his home in Talkalakh. He hopes that eventually, the time will come when he can take his family back to Syria.
As the Syrian army raided the town of Talkalakh, Fahim was only 2-month-old. Now, he is five-years-old and knows nothing but life as a refugee in Lebanon.
Fahim (5) together with his mother Zeinab (40) inside their tent in Kouachra. Winter is for them the hardest time as they struggle to earn enough money to buy fuel for the heating stove.
iv. Samira (46) is mother to 7 seven children. She escaped Syria in November 2012 after a mortar hit her house. Samira is renting a garage in the Lebanese town of Aidamoun and is raising her youngest daughter (11). Samira feels helpless, because Teachers treat her daughter as a second-class pupil: she is regularly beaten with a ruler whenever teachers consider she could have done something wrong. As a result, she feels isolated and faces difficulties when making friends with Lebanese kids.
Mohamad is a Palestinian architect who lived in Syria for decades. As the war broke out he took his family of five and found refuge in Lebanon. “ Everyone who was leaving his house would say goodbye to his family, because it was not guaranteed he would ever come back. Once I saw the bombing in Al Zahira. ,Around 1600 died instantly.
As of 2016: A total of 1.5 million Syrians are estimated to be living in Lebanon, including those who are not registered as refugees
As of 2016: A total of 1.5 million Syrians are estimated to be living in Lebanon, including those who are not registered as refugees
"It's true that we are living in good conditions, better than other refugees," Mahmoud said. "But we are not lying down, or smoking cigarettes and shisha, waiting for the money to arrive. We are sleeping under the car and working hard for our earnings." Despite Mahmoud's success, he does not consider Lebanon his new home. "I am not as happy as if I was in Syria. I wish I could go back. We would go even today, on foot, if only it was safe."
"In Syria I worked as a mechanic, but would you think of repairing your car when a war breaks out? Everything was suspended. People were dying every day," recalled Mahmoud, 52, who escaped the Baba Amr neighbourhood of Homs after clashes between rebels and forces loyal to Syrian President Bashar al-Assad erupted in October 2011. As a father of 11 children, Mahmoud was determined to create stable living conditions for his family upon their arrival to the village of Aidamoun in northern Lebanon. "When we came, we did not have anything to start a new garage. I used to borrow screwdrivers from my clients to work on their cars. The Polish aid agency PCPM provided us with cash for rent, so I was able to invest half of my income to buy necessary tools," Mahmoud told Al Jazeera.
As of 2016: A total of 1.5 million Syrians are estimated to be living in Lebanon, including those who are not registered as refugees
The illegal tent settlement in the town of Kouachra in northern Lebanon, a home to hundreds of Syrian refugees.
The illegal tent settlement in the town of Kouachra in northern Lebanon, a home to hundreds of Syrian refugees.
As of 2016: The percentage of Syrian refugees in Lebanon living under the poverty line - approximately $3.84 a day - drastically increased from 49 percent in 2014 to more than 70 percent in 2015.
: Douaa (24) with her daughter who is suffering from asthma as a result of long and exhaustive escape through the Qalamoun Mountains into Lebanon.
Although Ousama’s children do not hear falling bombs and do not have to fear for their lives, the security they enjoy does not solve countless other problems they face. He is struggling to earn money that would be sufficient to cover the costs of doctors, basic products not to mention to buy books or toys for his children. Ousama feels degraded and forgotten as a refugee living in the Palestinian enclave in the city of Tripoli. His dream is simple and of universal value. He would like to see his children playing again, smiling and enjoying their childhood. He fears they will never forget what they had seen in Syria and their images will hunt them forever.
Ousama (34) holding his youngest baby girl on his lap. Ousama (34) is a father of six children in school and pre-school age managed to bring his family into safety after civil war in Syria, forced them to leave their hometown of Homs. Determined to reach Lebanon, the family of eight had to take a dangerous route through the Qalamoun Mountains during the wintertime, where they spent 40 days.
Inside the Palestinian enclave in the Lebanese town of Tripoli. Home to a hundreds of Syrian families who escaped the war in their country
Inside the Palestinian enclave in the Lebanese town of Tripoli. Home to a hundreds of Syrian families who escaped the war in their country
The United Nations says 5 million Ukrainians - almost one in nine - need humanitarian assistance. "I wrote over a hundred emails to volunteers asking them for support in providing us with food, because we were suffering from hunger. We were only able to have a meal every second day," said Natalya Andzeeva, a 35-year-old single mother with five children who used to run a small farm near Luhansk at the heart of the conflict. Volunteers helped the family escape and find a room at a centre run by a charity in a village outside Lviv, but Andzeeva has no income.
Ukraine now has one of the world's largest populations of internally displaced people (IDPs). Some experts have warned the displacement crisis could last for years or even decades. "People are reluctant to let in IDPs, especially if they have children with disabilities," said mother of three Olga Striczina, whose eldest son Denys, 24, suffers epileptic fits and mental impairment. The family, who fled the eastern city of Luhansk in September, is being housed in a tiny room at a centre run by a charity in a village near the western city of Lviv, more than 1,000 km away. "If we didn't eat here for free, if we had to pay for the heating and services, I just don't know how we would have survived, because everything that we get is spent on expensive medicines for Denys," said Striczina.
Jurij Radczenko, a 46 year-old father of six, who was a pastor in Luhansk, did not face many difficulties in organizing a place for his family at a church shelter in the village of Vynnyky close to Lviv. Since September 2014, Radczenko and his wife Natalia and four of their school-age children have been occupying a small room furnished sparsely with two bunk beds, one single bed and a writing desk with a chair. “We are looking for an apartment, but honestly we can’t find one. We are a big family, we are from Luhansk and people just don’t want to deal with us. They think that all people from Luhansk are bad,” said Radczenko.
Schoolbus arriving at Rybaki Center to pick up pupils. In January 2015 Polish government carried out a one-off rescue operation of 179 Ukrainians of Polish descent and their spouses from theDonetsk and Luhansk provinces seized by the pro-Russian separatists. The risky evacuation took place amid high secrecy to avoid being targeted by rebels. The refugees were transported in buses to an airport in the eastern Ukrainian city of Kharkiv on January 10. Shortly after the operation a passenger bus was struck during fighting not far from Donetsk, killing 12 civilians. From Kharkiv, military planes flew the refugees to Poland where they were taken to two centres run by the Catholic charity Caritas in the northeastern villages of Rybaki and Lansk.
Lunchroom in Caritas Rybaki Center, Poland
Catholic charity Caritas in the northeastern village of Rybaki, Poland