 When the message from my son is late, I get depressed. I can't handle it. And God forgive me, I go mad. The document folder of this Red Crescent volunteer contains family messages, messages which carry so much more meaning than their brief words might imply. They are lifelines, a vital contact between detainees held at the American base in Guantanamo Bay and their distant families. Today, Najib Sultan is delivering three letters written by one of this family's sons. He's been in prison now for four years. When I get a message, I feel enormous relief when the words in it are reassuring. And I cry when the message is sad. I pray to God that he'll be freed and that this will happen as soon as possible. I miss him very much. Getting a letter handwritten by her son is an emotional moment for this mother. She cannot understand why he is being held so far away. I'm really sad and angry that he's over there. Why does he live at Guantanamo Bay? That's why I'm so sad and why I will be all my life. This sense of desolation is also felt in the Al-Hila household. They heard through a message that one of their family who'd been missing for months was being detained at Guantanamo. It's a tough blow for the rest of the family. Our life is difficult and we're sad, especially the children who are still young. They miss their father and they ask a lot of questions. We're living a tragedy. He wasn't only responsible for his children, but for his brothers as well. He was the head of the family. These messages give some reassurance to the families and are moral support for the detainees. Without any doubt, these messages keep his spirits up. They help him to be patient. Even if what he writes is censored, it helps him to express himself. As we say here, a candle in the night is better than total darkness. To be passed on, the messages must contain only general personal and family information. But even without details, families are reassured that the detainees are still alive. Coming from house to house, Najib Sultan continues his rounds. Worldwide, the ICRC has already delivered close to 21,000 messages between Guantanamo Bay detainees and their relatives in 30 countries. These messages have saved us. Without them, his mother and brothers would have gone mad. We wouldn't even have known where he was for the last four years. I like the work I do. It's very important to find out what's happened to these people who've gone missing. It's a big responsibility. These red crescent messages bring some hope to the families. The situation isn't always easy for relatives to understand. And so the ICRC explains the organization's work in schools. Classes that this teenager, whose elder brother has detained at Guantanamo, follows attentively. The process of verifying the content of the messages can be slow. It sometimes takes several weeks for them to arrive at their destination. When there's no message, his mother and his brother worry. We all worry. We're afraid that he's been killed. We have a constraint which is that the messages have to go through censorship. They have to be read by the authorities. It can be only family news that we bring. But we understand that it's extremely important, even if tiny news, sad news or good news, it's the only way to maintain a lifeline with the family. In Yemen, red crescent family messages are not only used by detainees. They are also a means of communication for civilians separated from their families by war. Rio Harid, for example. Age 33, she's a Somali refugee in Yemen living on her own. The armed conflict and insecurity forced her to flee her village in southern Somalia, where her husband and sons were killed. She's found security in Yemen, but her health remains fragile. For the last five years, she's managed to get by selling small items door to door. Her meager income is not enough to pay the cost of staying in touch with the rest of her family who are scattered in several countries. She turned to the red crescent in Sana'a for help. Family messages have enabled Rio to stay in touch with her sister who's living in a refugee camp in Kenya. She was also able to get news of their father who they'd lost contact with several years ago. I'd love to get a phone call. I'd love them to call me and for me to be able to call them. But I can't. For just a minute on the phone, you can't imagine how expensive it is. I can't afford to telephone. Since the members of the family have scattered, every member is in a corner of the world, so they have to communicate with each other and they have to know their situation. And also, they try to assist each other. Suppose most families in Yemen depend on members of their family abroad. Like most Somali refugees in Yemen, Rio has spent years hoping to go and live in another country. In Yemen, the red crescent passes on five to six thousand family messages every year between refugees and their relatives. Any other form of communication remains a luxury beyond their reach.