The Forgotten Millions: Persecuted Afghans join flood of people

We need you to help the Forgotten Millions one more time. The Herald and World Vision have relaunched a major campaign to raise funds and help the millions of children left homeless by war in Syria. With your help we can make a difference to the children and their families in desperate need throughout this region

I'm walking with two Serbian doctors in a makeshift refugee camp in central Belgrade.

Syrian families have stopped here for the day to shelter from the rain. Groups of refugees huddle together in two-man tents, and three little boys are burning plastic in a drum to warm their hands.

There is no conversation. My Serbian is non-existent and neither doctor speaks English or Arabic, but as they sift through the hair of refugee children and run gloved hands over their stomachs and backs, it is obvious they are checking for head lice and scabies.

It annoys me. They find nothing. Of course they don't. The usual head lice-spreading luxuries of school, playdates and sleepovers don't feature in the lives of Syrian children any more. Instead, their childhoods have been marked by the most brutal and violent conflict on the planet.

I know the Serbians mean well, but I find the whole situation grim. I lock eyes with one Syrian mother who stands, humiliated, as a doctor wearing a face mask picks through her child's hair. Again, the doctor finds nothing.

I've been here for half an hour but I've already had enough. I don't want to bear witness to this. I make some excuse about not being able to write in the rain and I leave.

I'm walking back through central Belgrade with photographer Jo Currie, muttering about the hopelessness of the situation, when something catches Jo's eye. It's a covered carpark and we can see children playing inside.

"Are they refugees?" she says. Before I can answer Jo runs across the road and ducks under a barrier. I follow and one woman catches our eye.

"Is she Chinese? She looks Southeast Asian," says Jo.

"I think she's Hazara," I say.

I approach the woman.

"Hello, my name is Rachel. Are you Afghani?" She looks taken aback.

I tell her I have been to Bamiyan in Afghanistan. "I am from New Zealand," I say.

She beams. "New Zealand! Yes, I am Hazara." The Hazara are from Bamiyan, the central highlands region in Afghanistan where New Zealand troops were based for much of the Afghan conflict. They have a distinctive look. It's more Mongolian than Central Asian.

She tells me her name is Rokiya and she has two children. She is sheltering from the rain in the carpark but says she is trying to reach Europe.

"The Taliban, they are growing in strength again," she says.

The Hazara people are among the most persecuted of Afghan tribes and are despised by the Taliban. Rokiya says while the world has focused on Syria and Iraq, the Taliban has rebuilt and Afghanistan is becoming increasingly unstable and volatile.

She looks to her children - Zahra, 8, and Ilyas, 5 - and says she is making the trek to Europe for them. "There is no future for a Hazara child in Afghanistan. They need to go to school, but it is dangerous."

She has been travelling for a month to reach Serbia and her journey is almost over. The family will bus into northern Serbia tomorrow, then walk the well-trodden 5km refugee route into Hungary.

The rain is pouring outside and I ask Rokiya if she will be okay tonight. "Yes, we will be fine. Thank you."

I don't know how receptive Europe will be to Afghani refugees. Rokiya could seek asylum based on the Taliban's persecution of the Hazara, but success will depend on where they apply. Germany might be receptive. Hungary would likely deport them.

Jo and I wish the family good luck and good health.

"I just can't stop looking at that family," says Jo. "Those kids look like Kiwi kids."

How can I make a donation?

You can make online donations, phone donations and offline donations.

Phone donations can be made on 0800 90 5000.

Offline donations can be made by printing off the form below and filling it out (app users tap here). Or look in the print edition of the Herald.