“My name is Emir Cica and I am 49. I am currently Country Director of the Islamic Relief Bosnia office. I work with local and international partners and many other different things.

“I joined Islamic Relief in 2006, in the micro credit programme. I was a local officer, and it was my first job, and after a time I was offered to join the administration and programming department.

“At that time, I was responsible for a small part of Islamic Relief Bosnia’s activities and today as Country Director I am responsible for everything that is happening in this organisation, and this position is very demanding and challenging.”

Emir grew up in Sarajevo and was just a teenager when war broke out in Bosnia.

“When the war started in 1992, I was 16 and I was in the second year of high school, and I remember the first attack on civilians, by snipers inside the Hotel Holiday Inn.

“I remember the first shots that fell on the buildings near my home, but at that time I maybe didn’t completely understand what war can bring.

“Maybe 6 months after that, I lost my grandmother. She was killed by paramilitary forces. She was burned in her cottage. And they also killed my uncle. He had cancer and my grandmother was 86 years old… I cannot understand what sin she could’ve been guilty of [to be killed like that]. They killed an old lady and a sick guy without any reason to.  

“Then it was a very tough time for my family, especially for my mother, but you know, when you are a teenager, you cannot completely understand everything. But now, I understand, I know that it is so different.”

The Siege of Sarajevo lasted from April 1992 to February 1996. It was the longest siege of a capital city in modern history, where the Army of Republika Srpska (VRS) and the Yugoslav People’s Army launched daily shelling attacked from the hills and forests surrounding the city, while snipers targeted anyone that moved on the streets.

“I witnessed everything that happened in Sarajevo during the war. Sarajevo was under siege for the longest time in history, for more than 3 and half years.

“During the siege they killed around 1,600 children, it was a very hard and difficult time.

“I was 9 during the Winter Olympic Games [in 1984] – just 8 years after that it was war.

“You cannot prepare people for that, that people started to kill us for no reason. The paramilitary forces, Republika Srpska supported by Yugoslav army, organised snipers to shoot civilians in Sarajevo.

“I directly witnessed everything, and I saw a lot of suffering and death. Children bled tears. Unfortunately, it is part of war.”

Emir and his family were trapped in the besieged city where they struggled for food. Humanitarian aid became their lifeline.

“I know that Islamic Relief were one of the first international organisations that came into Bosnia during the war. I once received support from Islamic Relief. I remember receiving a food parcel.

“It was very important for my family, because we didn’t have enough food then, didn’t have electricity [or] many different things. Sarajevo was under siege, and I remember this so clearly.”

Emir did not learn about the massacre at Srebrenica until after the war had ended – but knows how the atrocity has shaped Islamic Relief’s work since in the 30 years since.

“After the war Islamic Relief tried to support people so they could remain in their homes. We had a problem in getting enough support, especially for returnees to Republika Srpska, areas like Srebrenica and Bratunac, and those surrounding areas.

“So Islamic Relief Bosnia and Herzegovina implemented many different projects in Srebrenica [and across Republika Srpska] – like the reconstruction of houses, setting up rosemary farms and greenhouses, projects to provide livestock, orphan sponsorship, seasonal programmes like qurbani food distributions and winterisation, and providing school stationary.

“Everything we did aimed to support victims of Srebrenica genocide. Unfortunately, 30 years on, they are still facing many different challenges in those cities [across Republika Srpska].”

Emir has been working for Islamic Relief for nearly 20 years now, and has seen first-hand how many lives have been touched by the vital work we do to support communities through disasters, deliver development programming, and campaign to address the root causes of poverty.

“Generally, the focus of Islamic Relief Bosnia and Herzegovina currently is income generation projects. One of the biggest challenges for us is the very high unemployment rate, it is the reason why people, particularly young people, are leaving the country. We are trying now to provide people with a regular income, and we also try to prepare projects that guard the dignity of the individuals so they can make a living from their work.

“Islamic Relief currently supports more than 6,000 orphaned children and has directly supported more than 1,000 children who lost their fathers in the Srebrenica genocide.”

Having had his burden eased by Islamic Relief during the brutal siege, Emir is very proud to now be leading the organisation’s efforts in Bosnia.

“I am so proud because Islamic Relief is a humanitarian organisation that supports people from different nations, different religions and cultures, and we never discriminate.

“Islamic Relief is an organisation with Islamic values, but that doesn’t mean we only support Muslims. “We support people who are in need. We recognise the needs of each person and their rights as a human being.”

Tima is a 70-year-old survivor of the Srebrenica genocide.

She is a mother to Nedzad and 3 daughters, Hurija, Amela and Inela.

In 1992, her village was attacked, forcing her family to flee. “I had to leave because they set the house on fire. They killed whoever they could. We never returned. Whoever stayed was killed.

I was carrying bags and dragging my children’s clothes [behind us]. I was also carrying my younger children in my arms. It was a battle for survival. The only goal was to stay alive.

When I arrived in Srebrenica, all I wanted was to lay down with my children. I was physically exhausted from carrying my children for 3 months on my back in the snow.

“There was no proper accommodation. The people who were already there did not want to accept us into their own homes, so we had to improvise in the woods by making huts out of plastic and cardboard. The Swedish [NGOs] helped us when they took us into some small houses where the accommodation was much nicer.

“Humanitarian aid started arriving eventually. We received 1kg of flour, and it was supposedly to last us the whole month which is impossible. War is war and it is extremely difficult to survive. Those who received humanitarian aid had a chance of survival, but the ones who did not had no chance. I hope war here never happens again.”

Tima’s husband and son were caught by the Serbian army. Her husband Alija was tragically killed in Kasaba, eastern Bosnia and Herzegovina, while Nedzad was taken to a mass execution site.

All men who were considered to be old enough to fight were taken to the mass execution site. “Nedzad was shot 4 times but, somehow, he survived and managed to make it Tuzla. I remember he was in an extremely poor condition, so bad that he could not even go to the bathroom by himself. I had to help him with everything,” she says.

The 1995 Dayton Peace Agreement ended the Bosnian War, providing people with an opportunity to search for their missing relatives. It was only then that Tima discovered that her husband had died during the fall of Srebrenica in 1995. “I found out when the Red Cross started looking for grave sites after the Dayton Peace Agreement was signed. There was a mass search for missing bodies once the agreement was signed, so that was when they found my husband’s body.”

Tima and 2 of her daughters later received support through Islamic Relief’s Orphan Sponsorship Programme.

“Islamic Relief accepted me and 2 of my children, who were small at the time, into the Orphan Sponsorship Programme. It was good for me as I took a small loan from Islamic Relief which helped me educate my children. I am very grateful to Islamic Relief as I would not have been able to get a loan from anywhere else. I simply wish to thank you a lot and to thank the organisation which sponsored my 2 girls.”

Tima currently splits her time between Tuzla and Srebrenica, where Nedzad lives, though returning there is still hard for her.

“It was not easy for me to return to Srebrenica. When my Nedzad finished his schooling, he was offered a job here. He could not choose the location of the job, which happened to be Srebrenica, so I followed him. I did not want to return.

“It’s nice and for now, it is safe. Once you experience something extremely frightening, even small things shake you up afterwards. I would love to take my son away from Srebrenica, but what can I do? Considering Nedzad is employed here, we must stay here.

“For now, everything is good, my children are doing well thanks to God. I am also healthy even though the years are catching up to me.”

By 1995, the small mining town of Srebrenica, in eastern Bosnia and Herzegovina, had already endured a terrible 3 years of siege amid the Bosnian War.

Before the war began, 73% of the town’s population were Bosniaks and 25% were Bosnian Serbs. But, as the war progressed – and in the wake of Republika Srpska ethnic cleansing campaigns throughout 1992 and 1993 – more and more Bosniak civilians in eastern Bosnia fled to Srebrenica, seeking help in what the United Nations (UN) had declared a designated Safe Area.

The population of Srebrenica swelled from 9,000, to 70,000.

In 1993, General Phillipe Morrillon of the UN visited Srebrenica. After seeing the horrific conditions in the town, and after not being allowed to leave by the desperate public, Morrillon declared to the Bosniak people assembled: “You are now under the protection of the UN forces. I will never abandon you.” 

The presence of UN peacekeepers in the area did nothing to deter Republika Srpska’s desire to take Srebrenica, seeing the town as strategically important to their operations.

In March 1995 the political leader of the Bosnian Serbs, Radovan Karadzic, ordered his forces to, “create an unbearable situation of total insecurity with no hope of further survival or life for the inhabitants of Srebrenica.”

Serb troops blockaded civilians inside the town, allowing no food or water to enter for months. Supplies ran low. Residents began to die of starvation.

Then the Serb troops advanced.

From 6 July 1995, Serb forces intensified their siege. Shelling continued for days, causing panic among the residents and forcing tens of thousands to flee to the nearby town of Potocari where a UN base was located.

Some peacekeepers were taken hostage, while Serb forces demanded that Bosniak soldiers hand over their weapons in exchange for safety.

11 July

On 11 July, the Bosnian Serb military leader Ratko Mladic walked into Srebrenica and, in a statement recorded on film by a Serb journalist stated:

“We give this town to the Serb nation. The time has come to take revenge on the Muslims.”

By now, there were up to 25,000 Bosniak civilians congregated around the UN base in Potocari, all desperately trying to reach safety. Conditions were horrendous, with very little food or water available, and no protection from the oppressive July heat.

Serb soldiers began mingling with the crowd, causing more panic. In later testimonies, the UN peacekeepers described it as “a chaotic situation”, with witnesses reporting seeing Serb soldiers terrorising Bosniak civilians. 

As night fell, the horror continued. Soldiers would pick people out at random from the crowd. Some would return, others never did. Throughout the night, they raped women and girls and murdered dozens of men and boys.

That night, a huge group of 10,000 Bosniak men and boys fled through the forests around Srebrenica, trying to reach the free city of Tuzla – more than 60 miles away.

Soldiers pursued and captured thousands of these men – some were killed in the forest, others were forcibly moved elsewhere. In some instances, soldiers would force fathers to call out for to their sons, knowing their child would be in grave danger if they emerged from the trees.’

12 – 13 July

On 12 July, the buses started to arrive.

As UN peacekeepers watched, soldiers began to separate women, girls and boys under 12 from the others and forcing them onto buses.

The buses were described as overcrowded and unbearably hot. Those on board had no idea where they were being taken.

Over the next 2 days, more than 20,000 women and children were sent to Bosniak-held territory, eventually arriving in Tuzla, where a camp had been established. 

Those left behind – men and boys aged 12 to 77 and so considered of age to fight – were taken for so-called ‘interrogations’.

Some were killed on the spot. Most were forced onto buses and transported to holding sites and concentration camps.

By the end of 13 July, there were almost no men or boys left. And days later, UN soldiers reported that no Bosniaks at all remained in the town of Srebrenica.

14 July

In what would become the largest massacre on European soil since the atrocities of the Holocaust, the soldiers began their mass executions of the men held in Bratunac.  

Thousands were murdered. Some individually, others in groups. Their bodies were then pushed by bulldozers into mass graves near the killing sites. There are horrifying reports of some being buried alive, while remains found later recovered show signs of torture.

Months after the massacre, soldiers attempted to cover up their crimes by scattering the remains across different mass graves. The Srebrenica Memorial Centre reports that remains of those murdered at Srebrenica have so far been found in 94 mass graves across eastern Bosnia.

In court proceedings that took 24 years to complete, the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia that the mass murder that took place at Srebrenica was beyond all reasonable doubt a genocide. The trial, which ran from 1993 until 2017, saw 161 people indicted for their involvement in the genocide.

At the time of writing, we know 8,372 Bosniak men and boys were executed from 13 July to 19 July 1995. It is estimated that more than 1,000 more remain unaccounted for. 

What would you do if your child needed urgent medical care, but the nearest clinic was an exhausting hour-and-a-half’s walk away? Would you risk the journey in the rain, through snow, harsh mountain winds or scorching sun? Would you carry a sick child in your arms in the hopes of getting there safely?

In Lailour Pain village, a remote part of Yakawlang district in Afghanistan’s Bamyan province, these questions were once part of everyday life. For Khadija and many other mothers, accessing healthcare was an uphill battle. But all that is changing now.

Living with uncertainty

Khadija, 45, has spent her entire life in Lailour Pain, a village her family has called home for generations. Together with her husband, Abdullah, she cares for a large family of 14: 3 sons, 4 daughters, 2 daughters-in-law, and 3 grandchildren.

“My husband is 58 and works as a farmer. Our income comes from the crops we grow on our farm. If the crops grow well and there is enough water, we manage. But if there’s a drought, we have nothing. It becomes very difficult to survive.”

The family’s modest 4-room mud house provides shelter but lacks the comfort and warmth of a proper home. They struggle with poor harvests year after year, leaving them with no choice but to purchase food from Yakawlang city, around 20 kilometers away — a journey that is both expensive and physically demanding. Access to clean drinking water remains limited, with the family relying on a shared community well from which they must draw water each day by hand. While Khadija’s daughters are continuing their education at a nearby primary school, access to even the most basic health services has always been out of reach for the family.

A new beginning for the community

In September 2024, with support from the Health and Livelihoods Promotion (HeLP) project, Islamic Relief built a clinic in Khadija’s village. Every day, the facility serves around 100 patients, not only from Lailour Pain but also from several neighbouring villages who previously had no access to nearby healthcare.

For family’s like Khadija’s, the new clinic has been life-changing.

“My eldest daughter, who is 25, has kidney problems and needs regular medical attention. Before, it was a long journey to get her help,” Khadjia says. “We had to walk for an hour and a half to reach the nearest health centre.

“It was very tiring. I have back pain myself, and making that journey was hard.”

Many villagers, especially mothers and elderly people, were unable to make the long trip. Even when they did, there was no guarantee that the clinic would have the medicine they needed. Illnesses, particularly among children, went untreated. Health education was non-existent.

“There were times we had to cut back on food just to afford a trip to the city for medical treatment. It was painful, especially in winter,” Khadija recalls.

The new clinic offers a wide range of services: outpatient consultations, antenatal and postnatal care, psychosocial support, and nutrition programmes. Children who need specialised care are referred for treatment, and families receive counselling on hygiene and wellbeing.

For months, Khadija lived with chronic back pain. Even simple chores like cleaning and cooking became a struggle for her. After visiting the clinic, she received pain relief medication and advice on how to manage her condition at home.

“It changed our lives,” Khadija says quietly. “Now, when we’re sick, we go to the clinic nearby. We receive medicine, guidance, and care. I feel better, and I can do my daily chores without pain.”

Women in the village, who once hesitated to seek care, now feel safe and confident visiting the clinic. Health awareness has also improved, and with it, the overall quality of life has improved.

Khadija emphasises the importance of expanding the services. “We need delivery care. Complications during childbirth are common, and these services would save lives.”

A mother’s wish

For Khadija, the clinic is more than a health centre—it’s a promise of a brighter future.

“I want my children to be healthy. I want them to study, grow, and have better lives than we had. This clinic gives me hope that it’s possible.”

She sits quietly, her dark green and black shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders, her voice soft but steady. “We are thankful to Islamic Relief. What you’ve done here has changed our lives.”

Across Afghanistan, countless families like Khadija’s continue to face major challenges in accessing basic healthcare. Long distances, poverty, and a lack of local services put lives at risk, especially for women and children. With your support, Islamic Relief is working to change that by building clinics, training staff, and delivering life-saving care to some of the most remote communities.

Please help Islamic Relief continue to deliver life-saving health services and hope to families like Khadija’s in Afghanistan and around the world. Donate now.

On World Refugee Day, a mother and her children reveal the crushing reality of displacement: where every day is a battle for water, food, and hope.

The night the bombs came, Neda’a did not have time to gather shoes. She woke her 7 children in the dark, shouting over the explosions, and they ran barefoot, through streets strewn with broken glass and rubble, the younger ones crying as their feet bled. Her eldest son, Ahmed, carried his 7-year-old brother Elyas on his back. By dawn, they reached a UN school-turned-shelter. It was the last time Ahmed would see his family.

The next day, he went to buy shoes for his siblings. He never returned.

Now, Neda’a sits on the floor of a crowded classroom that has become their shelter, recounting the moment she learned Ahmed was gone. “We lost our backbone,” she says.

Around her, the walls are cracked from shelling. There is no running water, no privacy, no space to grieve. This is life for Gaza’s displaced, a relentless cycle of survival where death is routine, and the idea of home is reduced to a single question: How do we make it through today?

Fighting for water

This World Refugee Day, over 122 million people are forcibly displaced worldwide, the highest ever recorded. But displacement is not just a statistic. it’s often a sudden, devastating rupture that overturns entire lives, leaving families scrambling to rebuild amidst chaos.

In Gaza, at least 1.9 million people, about 90% of the population have been forcibly displaced, many of them multiple times. People have fled to try and escape bombs or have been ordered to leave by the Israeli military. Families sleep in tents, in the skeletons of bombed-out buildings, in hospital corridors where the smell of antiseptic cannot mask the stench of overcrowding.

For Neda’a and her children, displacement means waking before sunrise to join the scramble for water. Mousa, her 12-year-old son, describes the daily ritual: the long walk to the well, the fights that break out when the water runs low, the weight of the buckets cutting into his hands as he carries them back. “Before the war, we turned on a tap,” he says. “Now we fight for every drop.”

We have nothing left

Displacement does not end with losing a home. It seeps into every part of life, twisting the ordinary into the unbearable.

For Neda’a’s daughters, it means giving up school to scavenge for firewood, their hands hardened from gathering scraps to burn for cooking. The smoke fills their shelter, making the younger children cough, but there is no gas, no electricity, no other way to eat. For Mousa, it means bearing the burdens of an adult, hauling water, comforting his siblings when the bombs start again, trying to fill the space left by his older brother.

And for Neda’a, it means waking each morning to the same crushing reality: no money, no safe place, no way to protect her children from the war outside or the despair creeping in. “I just want to wake up to news that this is over,” she says. “But even if it ends tomorrow, what then? We have nothing left.”

Islamic Relief delivers aid in Gaza

While the horror continues, Palestinians have shown incredible resilience. Islamic Relief’s team and local partners in Gaza work tirelessly to provide lifesaving aid, even when they are themselves bombed, displaced and grieving. Over the past 20 months we’ve cooked millions of hot meals and distributed hygiene kits and emergency cash. Right now, we’re providing aid such as maternal care for pregnant women and cleaning shelters for displaced people to prevent deadly diseases spreading.

But the need is overwhelming. “We’re not just fighting hunger,” says Programme Officer Yasmin Al-Ashy. “We’re fighting the slow death of hope.”

For Neda’a, hope is fragile. She looks at Mousa, now too serious for his age; Ritag, whose hands are rough from gathering wood; Elyas, who is restless every night, and wonders what future awaits them. “I don’t know if they will ever recover from this,” she says.

They desperately need international governments and world leaders to demand an immediate ceasefire and pressure Israel to end its siege.

This World Refugee Day, stand with families like Neda’s. Donate to Islamic Relief Malaysia’s Palestine Appeal to provide lifesaving aid and hope to those who have lost everything. And call on your politicians and governments to demand meaningful political action to end the atrocities.