Humanitarian’s Diary: For Children, No Road Is Too Far

For Judith Leveillee, some of the most important conversations about children in Nigeria do not happen around a conference table.

They happen after long journeys into communities affected by conflict. Inside health centres where mothers bring malnourished children for treatment. In learning spaces where children are trying to reclaim an education interrupted by violence. And in conversations with UNICEF colleagues who confront the consequences of the crisis every day.

As UNICEF Nigeria’s Chief of Field Services, Judith spends much of her time travelling. Flights, paved highways and difficult roads come with the job. But missions to northeast Nigeria are different.

Here, getting to the children UNICEF serves can itself be a humanitarian operation.

“The Maiduguri Field Office in Borno State is UNICEF’s largest office in Nigeria,” Judith says. “For me, duty of care is important because colleagues encounter high levels of child rights violations daily. From nutrition to education and child protection, they continue to do their best to improve the situation.”

Her visits are partly about programmes, but also about people.

“It is my duty to provide all the support and guidance that colleagues need,” she says. “My missions to the northeast are also opportunities to listen, share feedback with the country office and connect what colleagues are seeing on the ground to the larger picture.”

Where the road becomes harder

That responsibility sometimes takes Judith beyond Maiduguri and into garrison towns across Borno State.

Rann. Monguno. Bama. Dikwa. Damasak. Gwoza.

These are communities where years of conflict have changed almost every aspect of life and where humanitarian access remains challenging.

For 17 years, northeast Nigeria has endured the devastating consequences of protracted conflict. Families have been displaced, livelihoods disrupted and essential services damaged. Children have borne a particularly heavy burden, facing malnutrition, disrupted education, disease, displacement and grave violations, including recruitment and use by armed groups.

The consequences extend far beyond what can immediately be seen.

A 2021 United Nations Development Programme report estimated that while tens of thousands of people had been killed directly by the conflict, many more had died indirectly because of its consequences, including hunger and lack of access to basic services, with children accounting for a significant share of these deaths.

Behind every statistic is a child, a family and a community whose life has been changed.

And reaching them requires much more than one organization.

No humanitarian works alone.

A journey into the deep field demonstrates just how interconnected humanitarian work has become.

A UNICEF colleague may travel aboard a United Nations Humanitarian Air Service flight managed by the World Food Programme. Security assessments and support from the United Nations Department of Safety and Security help make the journey possible. On arrival, accommodation managed by the International Organization for Migration provides humanitarian workers with a secure base from which they can work.

Then come the partnerships with government authorities, traditional leaders, civil society organizations, community volunteers and other humanitarian organizations that allow services to reach children.

For Judith, this network is not simply a matter of coordination. It is what makes humanitarian action possible.

“Alone, we cannot go far,” she says. “Nothing could have been achieved over the last decade without strong partnerships with government, traditional authorities, civil society groups and UN agencies.”

The scale of that collaboration becomes clearer outside Maiduguri.

UNHAS flights connect humanitarian workers with several hard-to-reach locations across Borno State, allowing teams to deliver assistance, monitor programmes and remain connected with communities despite severe access constraints.

In these locations, IOM-managed humanitarian hubs provide basic accommodation and working facilities. Rooms and shared spaces may be modest, but access to water, electricity and communications allows humanitarian workers to stay closer to the communities they serve rather than having to return to Maiduguri at the end of every visit.

It means more time in communities.

More conversations with families.

More opportunities to see whether programmes are actually working for children.

Finding the book of solutions.

After 25 years as a humanitarian, Judith has seen enough crises to understand that determination alone is not enough.

Humanitarian workers need systems around them. They need access. They need security. They need partners. And they need resources.

“If there is already a book of problems, we must find the book of solutions,” she says. “We must continue to embrace dialogue and identify the levels of influence that will bring about the change we desire for children.”

That search for solutions is becoming increasingly urgent.

Across the humanitarian sector, shrinking resources are forcing organizations to make difficult choices at a time when vulnerable children and families continue to require support.

For UNICEF and its partners, funding from donors including the European Union, the Government of Germany, the United Kingdom and the Government of Canada has helped sustain services and humanitarian capacity.

Judith believes any transition towards greater national ownership must be carefully managed so that years of investment, expertise and institutional knowledge are not lost.

“Without our donors, we will be unable to maintain our structure and programmatic expertise,” she says. “We require support to continue knowledge transfer to national partners.”

For her, transition is necessary. Abrupt withdrawal is not.

“We cannot pull the plug. We need to transition, but it will take time,” she says. “We must do it in a way that allows knowledge transfer to happen effectively. Pulling the plug would disregard the efforts put in place over the last 15 years.”

For children, the journey continues.

World Humanitarian Day is often an occasion to honour the people who work on the frontlines of crises.

But Judith’s journeys through northeast Nigeria reveal something equally important: behind every humanitarian reaching a child stands a much larger chain of people and partnerships.

The pilot flying into a hard-to-reach community. The security colleague assessing the route. The humanitarian hub worker keeping accommodation running. The government official opening access. The community volunteer building trust. The donor whose funding keeps a programme alive. And the UNICEF colleague who makes the final journey to a child.

Each is part of the same effort.

For Judith, that effort ultimately comes back to a simple responsibility.

“We must leave no stone unturned to ensure that children have the best chance to survive.”

And so the journeys continue.

Another flight. Another road. Another community.

Because when a child is waiting at the other end, no road should be too far.