Surviving Ebola is one thing, but returning to everyday life after the deadly virus brings its own new set of problems. Survivors living on the outskirts of Monrovia, Liberia share their experiences of illness, loss, and coping with a new reality as the disease is slowly but surely eradicated from their area.

"People were talking a lot about the disease. You shouldn't shake any hands to prevent getting the disease," Mammie Bindah, 38, said.

Still her husband who was working at a treatment clinic got the disease. Mammie took care for him for about two weeks before he died. In the process, Mammie contracted Ebola. She was throwing up blood when she got to the ETU. This is where she fought the disease for 20 days.

"After 12 days I started feeling a bit better,” she said. “When I recovered, I found out that my children ran away out of fear. It took a while before they returned back home."

After one week of throwing up, Bindu, 23, went to a hospital in her district. She couldn't eat anything for a over 10 days. All her family members around her also caught the virus. She is the only one survivor and in her community people are afraid to speak to her in fear of getting the disease.

Helena Henry (30) and her brother were the first of her household to get Ebola from a younger cousin who was staying over. He died at the age of four-years-old, and soon after, more people in her family became ill.

"After calling for an ambulance for over 12 days, they finally showed up,” she said. “But in the meantime, my younger brother already died here in house."

She went to the ETU for treatment, but some people were afraid to go there, so they remained at home. After three weeks fighting for her life, she survived Ebola. Returning home, she found out that her husband, her sister and another brother, her aunt & uncle and their daughter and sister-in-law also caught the virus.

"None of them survived,” she said. “Now I live in a empty house, taking care of my two children, four children of my mother and one of my brother." She relies on food aid from World Food Program to get by. "When this aid stops, I don't know how I can feed 7 children."

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"People were talking a lot about the disease. You shouldn't shake any hands to prevent getting the disease," Mammie Bindah, 38, said.

Still her husband who was working at a treatment clinic got the disease. Mammie took care for him for about two weeks before he died. In the process, Mammie contracted Ebola. She was throwing up blood when she got to the ETU. This is where she fought the disease for 20 days.

"After 12 days I started feeling a bit better,” she said. “When I recovered, I found out that my children ran away out of fear. It took a while before they returned back home."

Health workers were afraid to accept Comfort at the local hospital when she needed to give birth. They thought she might be caught with Ebola, so they turned her away. Comfort is aiming at the spot right on the streets where she gave birth. To twins. In the rain.

Rosanna's organization helps Ebola survivors to cope with the loss around Ebola.

Beds of Ebola victims lie disused in a field near a closed Ebola treatment unit.

Beds of Ebola victims lie disused in a field near a closed Ebola treatment unit.

An Ebola Treatment Unit (ETU) lies all but condemned on the outskirts of Monrovia.

All of this woman's family members died; only grand children remain. Now, her house is empty.

An Ebola survivor does the dishes outside her home in Monrovia. Surviving Ebola is one thing, but returning to life after the deadly virus brings its own new set of problems.

Surviving Ebola is one thing, but returning to life after the deadly virus brings its own new set of problems.

After one week of throwing up, Bindu (23) went to a hospital in her district. She couldn't eat anything for a over 10 days. All her family members around her also caught the virus. She is the only one survivor and in her community people are afraid to speak to her in fear of getting the disease.

Helena Henry (30) and her brother the were first of her household to get Ebola from a younger cousin who was staying over. He died at the age of four-years-old, and soon after, more people in her family became ill.

"After calling for an ambulance for over 12 days, they finally showed up,” she said. “But in the meantime, my younger brother already died here in house."

She went to the ETU for treatment, but some people were afraid to go there, so they remained at home. After three weeks fighting for her life, she survived Ebola. Returning home, she found out that her husband, her sister and another brother, her aunt & uncle and their daughter and sister-in-law also caught the virus.

"None of them survived,” she said. “Now I live in a empty house, taking care of my two children, four children of my mother and one of my brother." She relies on food aid from World Food Program to get by. "When this aid stops, I don't know how I can feed 7 children."

Surviving Ebola is one thing, but returning to life after the deadly virus brings its own new set of problems.

Surviving Ebola is one thing, but returning to life after the deadly virus brings its own new set of problems.

The father of Vivian Kekula (26) was working in a local clinic as a nurse. That's where he contracted Ebola. When he got sick in June, her family didn't think about Ebola at first. The ambulance brought him to an ETU, but in the process he spreaded the disease to Vivian's mother, sister and a cousin. And then to Vivian. People were suffering from internal bleedings. "This was hard to watch. I was crying because I was scared. But people that were treating me where encouraging me, that gave me strength". When she got out she heard that all family members somehow survived the disease. "That's when we celebrated". Now she has a six month contract working for Save the Children to talk to survivors and hear their stories to see what aftercare is needed.

Health workers were afraid to accept Comfort at the local hospital when she needed to give birth. They thought she might be caught with Ebola, so they turned her away. Comfort faces at the spot where she gave birth, in the middle of the the street, to twins. In the rain.

October 26-31, 2014
Aleppo (Opposition Held), Syria

As the war in Syria continues, civilians in Aleppo, the country's largest city, focus on daily survival. Children wait in lines at public soup kitchens, a man draws water from a broken water main in a bomb crater, and shops are open for business amidst the rubble.

Shots List:

Shot 1: Sunset over the neighbourhoods in Aleppo under the control of the regime
Shot 2: Children: Daily life in the neighbourhood of Al Chaar (under the control of the rebels)
Shot 3: Daily life in Al Chaar neighbourhood
Shot 4: Water shortage crisis in the neighbourhoods of old Aleppo, under the control of the rebels
Shot 5: Workers trying to bring back the electricity in the neighbourhoods of Al Chaar, Salah Ed Din and other old neighbourhoods
Shot 6: NGOs giving food for the families in the neighbourhoods of the old city of Aleppo
Shot 7: The destruction in Al Maadi neighbourhood after being hit with barrels
Shot 8: Life in the markets of Aleppo

October 22, 2014
Beit Hanoun, Gaza Strip

21-year-old Jamil Attia Za’anin is one of thousands of Gazans who’s home was destroyed in the 2014 summer war with Israel. However, Jamil’s case is particularly bad as he suffers from a neurological disorder that has left him severely mentally disabled. Jamil now lives in a shack with his family with no access to proper healthcare. In fact, his disability itself is symptomatic of the living conditions in Gaza, as it is a result of substandard healthcare in the coastal enclave.

Jamil now spends his days chained in front of his temporary home because there is nowhere for him to go and his family fears he may run away. His younger brother Mohammad is also mentally disabled, albeit to less severe degree. The family’s situation is particularly desperate as their father Attaya is too old to work. Left with no working age males in the family, they are forced to rely on food handouts from the United Nations. The family now spends their days salvaging the rubble from their destroyed home, struggling to find enough money to eat, and trying to keep their two disabled boys safe and healthy.

Seventy year old Wairimu Gachenga washes herself after preparing breakfast for her grandson Wahome Njeri (19) and her grand daughter on 10 May 2013 in the Nairobi slum of Korogocho, Kenya. Once a week a group of grandmothers from the area get together to practice self defense techniques after one of them was raped in 2007. Rape of elderly woman has increased in Kenya as people believe that grandmothers have a lower risk of HIV compared to younger women. KAREL PRINSLOO.

Life in the far reaching mountainous areas of Iloilo is hard. Transportation is not widely accessible and people live a simple life. Due to poverty and scarce sources of food, as in older days, people eat bats to survive. Fruit bats are considered a delicacy. Poi bat and Adobong Paniki, deep fried bat with soy sauce, is a thrilling comestible for exotic food lovers.

Brown sugar and salt as seasoning for the adobong paniki dish.

Igcabuyao, a village in the province of Iloilo in the Philippines, is a three hour car ride from any main city. The terrain is tough, and transportation inaccessible. People often walk several hours to buy food, and frequently live below the poverty line, growing only peanuts to sustain themselves without outside help.
To keep hunger at bay, locals have for generations turned to an unlikely food source: bats. The village of Igcabuyao is located near six major bat caves, an important resource for their survival.

Fruit bats are considered a delicacy in this area.. Poi bat and Adobong Paniki, deep fried bat with soy sauce, are thrilling dishes for exotic food lovers. Today, bats are frequently served as appetizers in wine bars.

Around and inside Gorongosa live around 250,000 persons that continue struggling to survive from a hard daily life after decades of civil war that came after independence from Portugal

Mook, 17, never imagined she could have a different life, away from ricefields and farming. Having lost her mother at the age of 9, she moved to Surin, one of the poorest provinces in Thailand, to live with her father’s family. She was then obliged to work in the fields, clean the house and look after her younger cousins. At 12, a friend of the family saw her strong body and suggested her to earn her life with weightlifting. She got a scholarship for the National Youth Team in Bangkok and started a new life. Now she gets a small salary and has a safe place to stay while she pursues her studies in high school.

Many children and youth from poor families in Thailand are sent to this kind of programmes to get a chance to study and earn some money. Most of them choose the traditional boxing, Muay Thai, but weightlifting is becoming more popular as some Thai female athletes have recently won some Olympic medals.

Downtown Halep, quarters of Bustan al-Pasha and Sakhour, December 2012.
The town is partially controlled by the brigades of the Free Syria Army. Snipers, hidden in isolated buildings, necessitate a fast crossing through the large and open avenues. Some people try to continue their normal life downtown, still living in their houses, even if the majority have left for the refugee camps at the borders of the country.

MIGs and helicopters of the Bashar Al Assad regime are continuously releasing rockets and barrel-bombs over the buildings. A quick look at the sky, some strikes, the blast and gray smoke lifts not too far from where we are. Another building hit, some people wounded and injured will be soon added to the list.

Daily life in Halep is pretty scary. The regime is now releasing big barrels filled with explosives. They release these bombs over the town, anywhere they like. No targets are aimed. They throw them here and there. No one is safe in any shelter. Shelters actually don’t work. Halep is a very ancient town and buildings are very weak. In spite of that, some citizens are still keeping their homes there, still trying to lead a normal life, together with the rebels of the Free Syria Army which fight on two front lines: one against the regular forces of the regime, one other against the Kurdish minority which supports the regime. In the middle, the citizens of Halep, try to survive in a ghost town, partially destroyed, under the daily bombings of such madness.

Downtown Halep, quarters of Bustan al-Pasha and Sakhour, December 2012.
The town is partially controlled by the brigades of the Free Syria Army. Snipers hidden in isolated buildings oblige to fast crossing the large and open avenues. Some people try to continue their normal life in downtown, still occupying their houses, even if the majority have been left to the refugees camps towards the borders of the country.
MIGs and helicopters by Bashar Al Assad regime are continuously releasing rockets and barrel-bombs over the buildings. A quick look at the sky, some strikes, the blast and gray smoke lifts not too far from where we are. Another building hit, some people wounded and injured will be soon added to the list.
Daily life in Halep is pretty scary. The regime is now releasing big barrels filled with explosive. They release these bombs over the town, wherever they like. No targets are aimed. They through them here and there. No one can be safe in any shelter. Shelters actually won’t work. Halep is a very ancient town and its buildings are really weak. In spite of that some citizens are still keeping their homes here, still trying to lead a normal life, together with the rebels of the Free Syria Army which fight on two front lines: one against the regular forces of the regime, one other against the Kurds minority which supports the regime. In the middle, them, the citizens of Halep, trying to survive in a ghost town, partially destroyed, under the daily bombings of such a craziness.

Downtown Halep, quarters of Bustan al-Pasha and Sakhour, December 2012.
The town is partially controlled by the brigades of the Free Syria Army. Snipers, hidden in isolated buildings, necessitate a fast crossing through the large and open avenues. Some people try to continue their normal life downtown, still living in their houses, even if the majority have left for the refugee camps at the borders of the country.

MIGs and helicopters of the Bashar Al Assad regime are continuously releasing rockets and barrel-bombs over the buildings. A quick look at the sky, some strikes, the blast and gray smoke lifts not too far from where we are. Another building hit, some people wounded and injured will be soon added to the list.

Daily life in Halep is pretty scary. The regime is now releasing big barrels filled with explosives. They release these bombs over the town, anywhere they like. No targets are aimed. They throw them here and there. No one is safe in any shelter. Shelters actually don’t work. Halep is a very ancient town and buildings are very weak. In spite of that, some citizens are still keeping their homes there, still trying to lead a normal life, together with the rebels of the Free Syria Army which fight on two front lines: one against the regular forces of the regime, one other against the Kurdish minority which supports the regime. In the middle, the citizens of Halep, try to survive in a ghost town, partially destroyed, under the daily bombings of such madness.

Downtown Halep, quarters of Bustan al-Pasha and Sakhour, December 2012.
The town is partially controlled by the brigades of the Free Syria Army. Snipers, hidden in isolated buildings, necessitate a fast crossing through the large and open avenues. Some people try to continue their normal life downtown, still living in their houses, even if the majority have left for the refugee camps at the borders of the country.

MIGs and helicopters of the Bashar Al Assad regime are continuously releasing rockets and barrel-bombs over the buildings. A quick look at the sky, some strikes, the blast and gray smoke lifts not too far from where we are. Another building hit, some people wounded and injured will be soon added to the list.

Daily life in Halep is pretty scary. The regime is now releasing big barrels filled with explosives. They release these bombs over the town, anywhere they like. No targets are aimed. They throw them here and there. No one is safe in any shelter. Shelters actually don’t work. Halep is a very ancient town and buildings are very weak. In spite of that, some citizens are still keeping their homes there, still trying to lead a normal life, together with the rebels of the Free Syria Army which fight on two front lines: one against the regular forces of the regime, one other against the Kurdish minority which supports the regime. In the middle, the citizens of Halep, try to survive in a ghost town, partially destroyed, under the daily bombings of such madness.

Downtown Halep, quarters of Bustan al-Pasha and Sakhour, December 2012.
The town is partially controlled by the brigades of the Free Syria Army. Snipers, hidden in isolated buildings, necessitate a fast crossing through the large and open avenues. Some people try to continue their normal life downtown, still living in their houses, even if the majority have left for the refugee camps at the borders of the country.

MIGs and helicopters of the Bashar Al Assad regime are continuously releasing rockets and barrel-bombs over the buildings. A quick look at the sky, some strikes, the blast and gray smoke lifts not too far from where we are. Another building hit, some people wounded and injured will be soon added to the list.

Daily life in Halep is pretty scary. The regime is now releasing big barrels filled with explosives. They release these bombs over the town, anywhere they like. No targets are aimed. They throw them here and there. No one is safe in any shelter. Shelters actually don’t work. Halep is a very ancient town and buildings are very weak. In spite of that, some citizens are still keeping their homes there, still trying to lead a normal life, together with the rebels of the Free Syria Army which fight on two front lines: one against the regular forces of the regime, one other against the Kurdish minority which supports the regime. In the middle, the citizens of Halep, try to survive in a ghost town, partially destroyed, under the daily bombings of such madness.

Downtown Halep, quarters of Bustan al-Pasha and Sakhour, December 2012.
The town is partially controlled by the brigades of the Free Syria Army. Snipers, hidden in isolated buildings, necessitate a fast crossing through the large and open avenues. Some people try to continue their normal life downtown, still living in their houses, even if the majority have left for the refugee camps at the borders of the country.

MIGs and helicopters of the Bashar Al Assad regime are continuously releasing rockets and barrel-bombs over the buildings. A quick look at the sky, some strikes, the blast and gray smoke lifts not too far from where we are. Another building hit, some people wounded and injured will be soon added to the list.

Daily life in Halep is pretty scary. The regime is now releasing big barrels filled with explosives. They release these bombs over the town, anywhere they like. No targets are aimed. They throw them here and there. No one is safe in any shelter. Shelters actually don’t work. Halep is a very ancient town and buildings are very weak. In spite of that, some citizens are still keeping their homes there, still trying to lead a normal life, together with the rebels of the Free Syria Army which fight on two front lines: one against the regular forces of the regime, one other against the Kurdish minority which supports the regime. In the middle, the citizens of Halep, try to survive in a ghost town, partially destroyed, under the daily bombings of such madness.

Downtown Halep, quarters of Bustan al-Pasha and Sakhour, December 2012.
The town is partially controlled by the brigades of the Free Syria Army. Snipers, hidden in isolated buildings, necessitate a fast crossing through the large and open avenues. Some people try to continue their normal life downtown, still living in their houses, even if the majority have left for the refugee camps at the borders of the country.

MIGs and helicopters of the Bashar Al Assad regime are continuously releasing rockets and barrel-bombs over the buildings. A quick look at the sky, some strikes, the blast and gray smoke lifts not too far from where we are. Another building hit, some people wounded and injured will be soon added to the list.

Daily life in Halep is pretty scary. The regime is now releasing big barrels filled with explosives. They release these bombs over the town, anywhere they like. No targets are aimed. They throw them here and there. No one is safe in any shelter. Shelters actually don’t work. Halep is a very ancient town and buildings are very weak. In spite of that, some citizens are still keeping their homes there, still trying to lead a normal life, together with the rebels of the Free Syria Army which fight on two front lines: one against the regular forces of the regime, one other against the Kurdish minority which supports the regime. In the middle, the citizens of Halep, try to survive in a ghost town, partially destroyed, under the daily bombings of such madness.

Downtown Halep, quarters of Bustan al-Pasha and Sakhour, December 2012.
The town is partially controlled by the brigades of the Free Syria Army. Snipers, hidden in isolated buildings, necessitate a fast crossing through the large and open avenues. Some people try to continue their normal life downtown, still living in their houses, even if the majority have left for the refugee camps at the borders of the country.

MIGs and helicopters of the Bashar Al Assad regime are continuously releasing rockets and barrel-bombs over the buildings. A quick look at the sky, some strikes, the blast and gray smoke lifts not too far from where we are. Another building hit, some people wounded and injured will be soon added to the list.

Daily life in Halep is pretty scary. The regime is now releasing big barrels filled with explosives. They release these bombs over the town, anywhere they like. No targets are aimed. They throw them here and there. No one is safe in any shelter. Shelters actually don’t work. Halep is a very ancient town and buildings are very weak. In spite of that, some citizens are still keeping their homes there, still trying to lead a normal life, together with the rebels of the Free Syria Army which fight on two front lines: one against the regular forces of the regime, one other against the Kurdish minority which supports the regime. In the middle, the citizens of Halep, try to survive in a ghost town, partially destroyed, under the daily bombings of such madness.

Kalibo Mandigo - Etaeto - Democratic Republic of Congo - September 10th, 2012

The picture shows two pygmi hunters, with their bows and arrows, before starting the hunting, looking at the spot where the animal is hiding.

The hunt for precious coltan is killing Africa's dwindling Pygmy population. The village of Kalibo Mandigo, located in the Ituri rain forest in the eastern part of the Democratic Republic of Congo, lies in the heart of an obscure war zone that few in the West know about. The densely forested expanse along a stretch of border between the nation once known as Zaire and Uganda, furnishes some 80 percent of planet's Columbite Tantalite, or "coltan," an ore that is an essential ingredient in the creation of the miniature Tantalum capacitors present in virtually all electronic devices, including laptops, cell phones and pagers. Coltan is panned for by hand in much the same way as gold during the California gold rush of the 19th century. The demand by major companies such as Nokia and Sony for coltan (Australia is the other major source) has made the Congo into a battleground for rogue miners, who enter the country, through Rwanda, Uganda and Burundi. The number of Pygmies is in constant decline as a result of the border fighting. On the move constantly, the pygmies, who are considered inferior, face the wrath of Congolese troops and Rwandan raiders who cross the border seeking the coltan. They were victims of rape, murder and cannibalism. According to Minority Rights Group International there is extensive evidence of mass killing, cannibalism and rape of Pygmies and they have urged the International Criminal Court to investigate a campaign of extermination against pygmies. Although they have been targeted by virtually all the armed groups, much of the violence against Pygmies is attributed to the rebel group, Movement for the Liberation of Congo. The picture shows two pygmy hunters, with their bows and arrows, chasing a Thompson gazelle, one of the favorite food of the pygmies.

Lake Katwe - Uganda - 2012-08-17- Formed about ten thousand years ago from a volcanic eruption, Lake Katwe lies in Queen Elisabeth National Park, in Kasese district, western Uganda, bordering the Democratic Republic of Congo through Lake Edward.

Lake Katwe salt mine is a source of livelihood to over three thousand people in the area and in good times hundreds of salt miners at Lake Katwe can make a reasonable living, even if in self-slavery. Due to the hyper saline water that sucks moisture from their bodies and infuses them with toxic chemicals, there are severe health complications. The smell of hydrogen sulphide is all over the place.

For the women, when the female reproductive organs get in contact with this salty water, more often they develop uterine complications. The men on the other hand are also affected. When the male organs come into contact with this salty water they itch, and excessive scratching can cause wounds.

Surviving for a meager five dollars a day is a poor income. Coarse salt is still mined the way it was done over centuries years ago. Men, women and children all work at the mines for their own survival, including a large number of refugees from the nearby Democratic Republic of Congo. Workers extract three main products from Lake Katwe: blocks of rock salt used in curing hides; high quality salt crystals that can be sold as table salt; and salty mud that is used as salt licks for cattle.

Theses pictures show salt miners working on a salt pans pile on the shores of Lake Katwe.

Mohammad Ali is watering the little trees that are placed inside the enclosure. Every tree gets a couple of litres of water so it stays alive.

A goat has been slaughtered and is waiting to be cut up, cooked and eaten for lunch.

Donkeys are the young shepherds' preferred transportation in the desert. Every day they lead the animals out towards food and water. The sun is coming down relentlessly and the heat is extreme even early in the day.

The young men from the surrounding Bedouin camps met up in the common “television lounge” which is a shed without windows. With one lamp hanging from the ceiling and a TV they spend the night together. The electricity they get from a solar panel, which a NGO built for them. Tonight they are watching a Turkish soap series translated into Arabic.
From left: Khaled, Awda, Ferhan, Suad, Mosa and Salem.

Ready for milking

Hamida is the oldest Bedouin in and around Rashayida. The word is that she is 110 years old.