The iconic image of refugees is row upon row of white tents in a sprawling emergency camp. But the reality is that only one-third of the world’s 10.5 million refugees now live in camps. Like 3.3 billion other people on this planet, they have been steadily moving to cities and towns, a trend that has accelerated since the 1950s. More than half the refugees UNHCR serves now live in cities, with the remainder outside camps living in rural areas. In the future, more and more refugees will be trying to survive in cities, as will former refugees who return to their place of origin and those displaced inside their countries.

Unlike a closed camp, cities present obvious opportunities to stay anonymous, make money and build a better future. But they also present dangers: refugees may not have legal documents that are respected, they may be vulnerable to exploitation, arrest and detention, and they can be in competition with the poorest local workers for the worst jobs.

In the past, many refugees in cities were young men with the skills and savvy to survive on their own. These days they are increasingly women – who may have been raped or molested in escaping their countries – children and older people who all need special help. In large, anonymous cities they often have a hard time finding their way to UNHCR for the support they need, and the UN refugee agency, for its part, cannot provide services as easily as in a camp where it has 80,000 refugees on its doorstep.

What is clear is that wherever refugees are – in cities or in camps – they have the same human rights, and both UNHCR and host states have an obligation to protect them and respect their refugee status.

To illustrate the resilience of refugees in cities, their hopes and dreams as they struggle to simply survive, make a living and care for their families, UNHCR sent renowned photographer Zalmaï to cities on several continents.

Zalmaï is a former Afghan refugee. At 15, he spent three months in his grandmother’s basement hiding from the Soviet army and Afghan authorities before fleeing to Switzerland, where he was educated and still lives.

“What struck me about the displaced people I photographed,” Zalmaï says, “is that they don’t ask much. They just want protection and basic human rights. They don’t ask, ‘give us money,’ or a house or a job. Everybody just asks for protection.”