In a few weeks, children as young as 12 will start leaving schools in south Texas to work in the summer harvest, taking on the difficult and sometimes even dangerous work of picking fruits and vegetables. Nationwide, hundreds of thousands of kids this year will cut the roots off onions, hoe cotton, climb tall ladders to pick oranges and apples, and drive tractors. If the past is a guide, some will be injured, some will be maimed, and some will die.
Since the 1990s South Africa has not reduced the number of women who die needlessly each year from preventable and treatable causes linked to pregnancy and childbirth.
A couple of weeks ago, when I was trying to decide whether to pin a pink triangle to the lapel of my black overcoat, Sergei Kondrashov was detained by police in the street of Russia’s northern capital with a banner saying, "A dear family friend is a lesbian. My wife and I love and respect her ... and her family is just as equal as ours."
Some valuable truths underlie Oplan Bayanihan, the Armed Forces of the Philippines’ 16-month-old internal peace and security plan. Chief among them are that the various insurgent groups in the Philippines are unlikely to be beaten by force alone, that better standards of living can curb the roots of the rebellions, and that the military could do more to “win the sentiment” of the general population. But in translating these truths into practice, something seems to have gotten warped along the way. The AFP’s practice of mixing soldiers with schools amply illustrates this misguidedness.
South Africa's tourism website describes the country as the "land of good times and friendly people". Sadly, Araya Y, a pregnant Somali refugee living in Port Elizabeth, did not experience this side of the country. Instead, when she went to a government district hospital in July 2010 to give birth, she was abused by medical staff and denied care.
Despite a plethora of international initiatives on corporate social responsibility (CSR), none has focused exclusively on the impact of business on children's rights.
In the past week, a 30-minute video about Joseph Kony and his rebel group, the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA), has received more than 90 million internet hits. Viewers of the video now know, if they didn’t before, that he is a wanted man with much blood on his hands. For years Human Rights Watch has investigated the LRA’s horrors, from Uganda and the Democratic Republic of Congo to the Central African Republic (CAR) and South Sudan. We have visited remote massacre sites and listened to hundreds of victims and survivors who want their stories heard.
We’ve spent years investigating the horrors perpetrated by the LRA in central Africa — Uganda, Democratic Republic of Congo, Central African Republic (CAR), and South Sudan. We gathered evidence at massacre sites — wooden clubs covered in dried blood, rubber strips from bicycle tires used to tie up the victims, and freshly dug graves – and spoke to hundreds of boys and girls forced to fight for his army or held captive as sex slaves. And we’re elated that #stopKony is a trending topic on Twitter – if anyone deserves global notoriety it’s Kony.
South Africa's tourism website describes the country as the "land of good times and friendly people". Sadly, Araya Y, a pregnant Somali refugee living in Port Elizabeth, did not experience this side of the country. Instead, when she went to a government district hospital in July 2010 to give birth, she was abused by medical staff and denied care.
In the past week, a 30-minute video about Joseph Kony and his rebel group, the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA), has received more than 90 million internet hits. Viewers of the video now know, if they didn’t before, that he is a wanted man with much blood on his hands. For years Human Rights Watch has investigated the LRA’s horrors, from Uganda and the Democratic Republic of Congo to the Central African Republic (CAR) and South Sudan. We have visited remote massacre sites and listened to hundreds of victims and survivors who want their stories heard.