UN Has Ignored Staffer Injured by Bomb Blast Her Son Says After 8 Years of Guterres Censorship

UN Has Ignored Staffer Injured by Bomb Blast Her Son Says After 8 Years of Guterres Censorship by Matthew Russell Lee, Patreon Book Substack UN GATE, June 18 – Given the impunity of the United Nations, particularly under Antonio Guterres, Inner City Press receives over the transom many pleas to be heard. It investigates some, asks UN Spokespeople - without any answers, Guterres' censorship fully implemented by his bots - and publishes some. Here is one: Dear Secretary-General António Guterres, Deputy Secretary-General Amina Mohammed, Dr. Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus, Hannan Sulieman, leaders of WHO, UNICEF, the United Nations Joint Staff Pension Fund, and... Inner City Press:   My name is Usran Awa.  I was three years old when my mother, Ranya Kargbo, joined the United Nations system. I am now twenty-three years old, working for a Fortune 500 company in New York, and I have spent nearly my entire life witnessing what she has endured.  Throughout my life, I have seen both the good and the bad sides of the United Nations. I have heard its leaders speak about human rights, dignity, fairness, accountability, and protecting vulnerable people. Yet I have also watched my own mother spend fifteen years fighting for what she believes is basic fairness after being seriously injured while serving the organization.  When I was a child, my mother survived a devastating bomb blast while serving with UNICEF. The attack left her with life-altering injuries from which she has never fully recovered. I remember hearing the explosion from school and confusing it for thunder. I remember waiting for my mother to come home and seeing the exhausted, injured, and debilitated condition she was in.  Fifteen years later, she continues to live with the consequences every day. She suffers from chronic PTSD, significant hearing loss, chronic pain, and severe knee injuries that affect her ability to walk. She cannot comfortably join her own children for long walks because the pain eventually becomes overwhelming. I have spent years helping her manage daily activities and encouraging her to rest because she continues to push through pain despite the limitations imposed by her injuries. She has spent more than $150,000 of her own money on medical treatment and surgeries related to those injuries.  What I have witnessed over the past fifteen years appears to me to be a profound failure of duty of care.  The bomb blast injured my mother physically, but what followed has, in many ways, been equally devastating. I have watched her spend years seeking reimbursement for medical expenses, recognition of her disabilities, correction of pension records, payment of benefits she believes she is owed, and answers from institutions she faithfully served.  For more than fifteen years, my mother has written to senior leaders across the United Nations system seeking help, accountability, and resolution. She has written to the Secretary-General António Guterres, Deputy Secretary-General Amina Mohammed, Dr. Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus, Hannan Sulieman, senior officials at WHO, UNICEF, the United Nations Joint Staff Pension Fund, ethics offices, administrative bodies, and many others...  I know this because I have been copied on virtually every single email she has sent.  For fifteen years, I have watched those emails leave her inbox. I have watched her wait for replies. I have watched her gather evidence, prepare submissions, provide medical reports, answer questions, and continue to engage in good faith with institutions she once believed would protect their own staff.  Too often, what followed was silence.  Days became weeks.  Weeks became months.  Months became years.  What I found most difficult to witness was not only the silence, but the humiliation that came with it. I watched my mother repeatedly explain and re-explain injuries that were real, documented, and life-changing. I watched her submit medical evidence, receipts, reports, and correspondence only to find herself having to start again. I watched her dignity eroded by a process that seemed endless.  I also watched years of disputes regarding her salary, benefits, disability recognition, pension records, and employment-related entitlements. I watched periods of leave without pay that had devastating consequences for our family. From my perspective as her son, these actions appeared designed to wear her down financially and emotionally, to isolate her, and to pressure her into abandoning her claims and resigning.  I watched allegations made against her that she firmly denied. I watched her fight to defend her reputation and integrity while simultaneously managing the consequences of life-altering injuries. I watched her continue to show up, continue to respond, continue to document, and continue to defend herself while others with far greater institutional power stood against her.  Yet she refused to give up.  She remained steadfast.  She continued to speak.  She continued to document.  She continued to pursue what she believes is the truth.  She continued to believe that somewhere within the United Nations system there would be leaders willing to listen, review the facts fairly, and act with integrity.  That day has still not come.  As her son, I have witnessed the personal cost.  I have seen the tears, the sleepless nights, the frustration, and the exhaustion. I have heard the deep cries of a woman who feels abandoned by the very institutions she trusted and served.  What many people fail to understand is that the consequences did not stop with my mother.  They extended to her children.  They extended to me.  I grew up watching my mother live with pain, disability, uncertainty, and fear. Living alongside this reality has affected me profoundly. The anxiety, stress, and emotional burden of witnessing her suffering have followed me throughout my life.  No child should have to watch a parent spend fifteen years pleading for fairness.  No child should have to witness a parent repeatedly ignored while struggling with injuries sustained in service.  No child should have to grow up hearing promises of dignity and accountability from global institutions while watching those same principles appear absent from their own family’s experience.  This is not simply about money.  It is about dignity.  It is about accountability.  It is about whether the values the United Nations promotes to the world are applied equally within its own institutions.  As the son of a UN staff member, I respectfully call upon the leadership of the United Nations, the World Health Organization, UNICEF, and the United Nations Joint Staff Pension Fund to review my mother’s case fairly, transparently, and without further delay.  I ask that her outstanding medical reimbursement claims be reviewed and resolved.  I ask that her disability status be reassessed based on the available evidence.  I ask that any inaccuracies in her pension records be corrected.  I ask that her concerns be addressed respectfully and transparently.  I ask that an independent senior official or panel review the matter and provide a written determination.  Most importantly, I ask that someone finally listen.  I have intentionally not copied my mother on this letter. After fifteen years of fighting these battles herself, I do not wish to expose her to further disappointment, stress, or humiliation. I write independently as her son and as a direct witness to the impact these events have had on her and on our family.  For fifteen years, I have been copied on her emails.  For fifteen years, I have watched my mother write to many of the people receiving this letter.  For fifteen years, I have watched her ask for fairness, accountability, dignity, and recognition.  Today, I write my own.  I do not write out of anger.  I do not write out of bitterness.  I write because I have spent most of my life witnessing the consequences of what happens when an injured staff member believes she has nowhere left to turn.   I write because I have watched a woman who survived a bomb blast while serving UNICEF spend fifteen years fighting for recognition of injuries that continue to affect her every day.  I write because I have seen the cost imposed not only on her, but on her children and family.  Most importantly, I write because I still believe leadership matters.  The people receiving this letter have the authority to ask questions.  The people receiving this letter have the authority to review the facts.  The people receiving this letter have the authority to ensure that this matter receives an independent, fair, and transparent review.  After fifteen years, no one can say they were unaware.  After fifteen years, no one can say they did not know.  After fifteen years, silence is a decision.  My mother has spent fifteen years asking for fairness.  As her son, I am asking for the same.  Respectfully,  Usran Awa Watch this site. 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