Its mission: to prepare for the deployment of a mobile court expected to begin next month. This initiative can’t come soon enough for victims of crime who have long believed that accountability is out of reach. 

Since 2018, South Sudan, the world’s youngest nation, continues to face deep instability and violence despite a peace agreement meant to end years of civil war. 

Armed clashes between government forces, opposition groups, and local militias continue to displace thousands, worsening an already dire humanitarian situation.

Sexual violence is rife 

“My 8-year-old child was raped, and I don’t know what to do as her future is already damaged,” explained Grace Hadia, mother of a sexual violence survivor. “I have not been able to sleep since this incident. I hope the justice will prevail with the deployment of the mobile court.” 

Many similar, deeply painful stories emerged during the assessment, with authorities documenting 35 pending cases, including nine murder cases, 15 involving sexual and gender-based violence (GBV) and others relating to theft and other more serious crimes. 

Local leaders say GBV is a problem that just keeps growing. 

“Recently, during a funeral, a woman was raped by seven men. We are still searching for the suspects so they can face justice,” said Zilpha Dawa, Mundri West County Commissioner. “What we lack is a (GBV) desk at the police station. 

These cases are often treated like ordinary crimes. We urgently need trained personnel to handle GBV reports properly and keep accurate records.” 

No courthouses, no trials 

The absence of functioning courthouses has also left many suspects waiting years in detention without trial, contributing to severe prison overcrowding.

Mobile courts are helping to support justice in South Sudan.

“I have spent two and a half years in prison without trial. I am hopeful now that the mobile court will come, and justice will finally prevail,” stated one alleged perpetrator. 

The United Nations Mission in South Sudan is supporting the assessment mission and mobile court to strengthen the justice chain and build trust among communities in the rule of law. 

Mobile courts represent more than legal proceedings; they will bring accountability and healing. And for many, it is the first real hope that long-delayed justice may finally be delivered. 

Four years after Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, many people are trying to overcome deep-rooted trauma and rebuild what has been lost. 

For many the trauma predates the Russian invasion and is linked to a conflict that began in the country’s south and east, including the Donetsk region, in 2014.

Yurii Shapovalov, who was living in Donetsk at the time, and who was detained by Russian-installed authorities, spent nearly eight years in captivity. Now free, he is trying to restart his life.

‎“In a tiny cell, I tried to do physical exercises,” Yurii said. “But mentally, it was very difficult. The conditions were too much to bear.”

Before the conflict erupted in eastern Ukraine in 2014, Yurii worked as a neurophysiologist at the Donetsk Regional Diagnostics Centre.

In his spare time he ran the local Cactus Enthusiasts Society and cared for his elderly mother. 

When pro-Russian forces seized control of Donetsk, Yurii and his mother stayed. They could not imagine leaving their home behind.

Recovery after detention

He began documenting daily life in Donetsk, a city in southern Ukraine, through an anonymous social media account. It was a small act of protest, but it came at a cost. In 2018, he was arrested.

“I was beaten and forced to work,” he said. For months, his mother did not know where he was. Without support from home, he lacked basic necessities and recalled wearing winter shoes through the summer heat.

In 2020, he was sentenced to 13 years in a penal colony. “I told myself I had to preserve who I was – not to succumb, not to break, to hold on,” Yurii said.  ‎

‎There were losses he could not prepare for. “My mother didn’t get to see me come back,” he said. “She passed away.”

Yurii also lost the life he had built. His extensive collection of cacti – something he had cared for deeply – was left behind. Friends later moved it to the Donetsk Botanical Garden, hoping to preserve at least some of the plants. “By then, there was nothing left of my previous life.”

Yurii continues his recovery after years of detention, receiving support to address both physical and mental health needs.

Tailored aid 

In the summer of 2025, Yurii was finally released through a prisoner exchange between Russia and Ukraine. 

After receiving initial support at a public hospital, he was referred to the International Migration Agency’s (IOM) Protection Medical Rehabilitation Centre in Kyiv, a specialised facility providing care to survivors of human trafficking and of gender-based and conflict-related violence. 

There, doctors identified his urgent health needs and facilitated further essential cardiological and neurological treatment.

Since 2024, IOM Ukraine has identified and supported more than 4,700 survivors of war-related violence, including civilian survivors of captivity like Yurii.

“Many need long-term treatment,” said Olha Shcherbatiuk, IOM National Rehabilitation Centre Officer.

Beyond medical care, IOM supports long-term recovery through survivor-led groups and national initiatives addressing war-related abuses.

Following his release, Yurii is rebuilding his life step by step, including reconnecting with former colleagues.

Returning to work

‎“Maybe I did manage to preserve myself,” Yurii reflected. But the effects remain. After years in captivity, everyday tasks became unfamiliar. “Using a phone, an elevator, even the subway felt difficult,” he explained.

His former colleagues, who had left Donetsk years earlier, were among the first to support him after his release, including tracking down and verifying his training and employment records. 

Only then will he be able to take refresher courses and return to work, hopefully as a child neurologist. 

When asked what brings him joy now, Yurii paused. 

“Having my own place,” he said. “Time to be alone, to think, to put things in order,” and to once again nurture cacti.