IN 2014, I was part of a delegation to Bosnia, sent out to hear heart-breaking testimonies of war, genocide and suffering.

Twenty years after the Siege of Sarajevo, I saw warehouses packed with remains from mass graves, I saw thousands of names on dignified memorial plaques, all with the same day of death, I saw buildings and people still bearing the brutal scars of war.

I met mothers in Srebrenica and heard of their unimaginable losses, of the soldiers who wore the fingers of their boys as necklaces.

I visited sites of mass murder and met men who narrowly escaped death, who took up arms as innocent teenagers and emerged from the war changed forever.

I heard stories of starvation, of terror and desperation, of a city bombarded, its people isolated even while knowing the world was watching as they died in the streets.

The charity Remember Srebrenica invited me to Bosnia as part of their attempt to raise awareness of the Bosnian war and to encourage people around the world to heed it as a grave warning.

This must never happen again, I was told time and time again. We must never forget the horrors, war and genocide must not be tolerated.

Consistently I came across a sense of disbelief, of anger and frustration that the world knew what was happening in Bosnia yet it still happened – that the journalists broadcasting the horrors, the politicians wringing their hands and those watching helplessly at home did nothing that prevented their loved ones from dying as they queued for bread.

Aisa Omerovic lost 42 members of her family in the Srebrenica massacre where more than 8,000 men and boys were murdered. “Share our story”, she begged me, “Don’t allow this to happen again.” But it is happening again.

The world is watching as people die on Syrian streets, in their homes, in their efforts to flee the war that has decimated their country.

Aleppo is falling as its desperate people echo Aisa’s plea, begging us to help , to tell the world what is happening, to put a stop to the atrocities.

So it is with a growing sense of helplessness and anger that I turn the rest of this column over to voices from Aleppo, to some of the messages filtering through from that historic city.

“What is happening is bigger than the brain can imagine. There are corpses on the streets. We have dozens of killed and wounded.” – A man, Aleppo.

“To everyone who can hear me, we are here exposed to a genocide in the besieged city of Aleppo. This may be my last video…With no safe zone, no life, every bomb is a new massacre. Save Aleppo. Save humanity.” – Lina Sharmy, activist.

“U guess it’s goodbye..Thanks all who stand for us… But it’s almost over and they are just hours away of killing us.” - @Rami_Zien “My name is Bana, I’m 7 years old. I am talking to the world live from East Aleppo. This is my last moment to live or die.

“My dad is injured now. I am crying.

“Final message – people are dying since last night. I am very surprised I am tweeting now and still alive.”- @AlabedBana, seven.