"Everything happened very quickly. I heard gunshots, very loud. My husband had gone to work. I didn't know what to think, everything was so confusing. I was terrified, so I ran away with nothing but my baby in my arms. When we ran off into the bush, it was as if my little girl knew that our lives depended on it, because she didn't cry once. I had no milk to give her, but she didn't cry." - a young Congolese woman upon her arrival at the UNHCR (United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees) reception center in Angola. In modern conflicts, women are often the ones who carry the heaviest burden. As wars no longer have front lines, civilian populations are increasingly targeted. Rape and sexual violence continue to be used as a weapon of war, and when forced to flee their homes, it is women who bear the responsibility for family cohesion and child-rearing. Violence against women has been particularly brutal during the recent clashes that began in March 2017 in the Kasai region of the Democratic Republic of Congo. A conflict that displaced some 1.4 million people in the DRC and exiled more than 34,000 people who sought refuge in Lunda North province in northeastern Angola. Refugees reported widespread violence, massacres, mutilation, burning of homes, destruction of villages, schools, and churches, human rights abuses, as well as food shortages and lack of access to basic needs. Specifically, refugees arriving in Angola reported the worst gender-based violence in the region, perpetrated by government forces and militias that deliberately targeted women. Medical staff hosting refugee families who crossed the border into neighboring Angola were shocked by the stories and health conditions of many women and girls. "The refugees were arriving in terrible condition, some with machete wounds, many starving, exhausted and traumatized." - Philippa Candler, UNHCR representative in Angola. Many of the Congolese refugees who arrived in Angola have been settled in a UNHCR camp in Lóvua. More than 9,000 Congolese are currently living in the camp, which can accommodate 30,000 people. In Lóvua, 75% of the Congolese refugees are women and children. With men often absent, dead or unable to work, it is the women who are trying to rebuild their shattered lives and provide for their families. "The victims are all those who could not escape and died in this atrocious conflict. The refugees are survivors. They have lost everything but their lives and their dignity. We [UNHCR] are there to help them get back on their feet and rebuild their lives. The refugee women embody this extraordinary strength more than anyone else: I am struck time and again by their ability to adapt, to cement their families together and to face adversity with a smile. Yet they are not made of steel, they are human beings, they are women with a big heart, strong women." - Margarida Loureiro, UNHCR External Relations Officer, Angola. On my first visit to Lóvua camp, I saw two women sitting in front of their tent and something immediately drew me to them. Rose (whom I would soon call Aunt Rose), her sister Mimi, and then Bernardette. We spent the whole day telling each other stories, laughing and eating together. By mutual agreement, we decided to make a series of portraits of these women, and only them, so that they would tell us their stories. When I came back the next day, it was like a party. Children and men were forbidden to attend; food was prepared, new batteries had been bought for the radio. We danced, ate and took pictures. Truth be told, it was the most memorable photo shoot of my life - and in many ways, like a celebration, a celebration of life. Resilience is an overused word, but thanks to Aunt Rose and Mimi, thanks to all the women I met later in the camp, I discovered its true meaning. The women I came to know and visit every day were full of life, joyful, and in spite of all they had endured, they radiated a deep strength in which their whole family was rooted. However, I am aware that resilience should not be idealized. By its very nature, resilience is a necessity born of suffering. It is not a virtue to aspire to, it is a path paved with trials and pain. While I admired the strength and resilience of the women I met, I could not help but be touched by the terrible violence they had witnessed and suffered along the way. For some, the memory of these experiences was still too present and too violent for them to cope with; this is reflected in their words and their eyes, in their portraits. These portraits express the strength of these women. But they are also a reminder of the appalling gender-based violence, rape and sexual abuse that women face in conflicts around the world. On the first day, sitting with Rose, Mimi and Bernardette, I asked them how they had endured all this and survived. "It's very simple," they replied, "we are here because we are strong."