“It was a late Sunday afternoon and I was still working, with a camera in one hand and tripod in the other, I was covering the refugee crisis in southern Turkey. A refugee camp on the Syrian border where thousands of helpless refugees were stranded. 

My phone rang - it was the newsroom, calling to urgently find out whether the story would make the 5PM bulletin. 

As I pushed through a large group of Syrian men who were trying to collect their families dinner rations, I interrupted one, asking him about his situation, where he had came from and what his future holds. His answers were as expected, short, tearful and resembling a fraction of how he really felt. Nonetheless I recorded as much of him as I could to take back to the studio. 

As I walked back to the car, passing thousands of small tents, containing stories unheard, all helpless in a world of silence - the only thing I kept thinking about was how my interview would really make a difference to any of this. 

The newsroom called again - I reassured them it will make it on time, but deep down I knew I had a story that would have little to no impact to the catastrophe in front of me. And that’s when it hit me.