Clowns Without Borders: entertaining children in crisis for 20 years – in pictures

Albert Grau, of Clowns without Borders (CWB) entertains children in Kibati refugee camp, just outside Goma in North Kivu, DR Congo. 'We try to initiate sparks, for children to play, to self-identify,' says Jamie McLaren Lachman, aka 'Banjo Max' and director of the South Africa branch of CWB. He has given hundreds of performances, mainly in southern Africa but also in Haiti, Lebanon, Palestine, Israel and Ethiopia. 'Our work is a celebration, an adventure.' Photograph: Walter Astrada/AFP/Getty Images

'Once, in a school in Adis Ababa, Ethiopia, we thought we were performing to 500 students. It turned out there were three or four times that [number] so we set up the children on stairwells, balconies and behind us. It was really electric.' Photograph: Walter Astrada/AFP/Getty Images

McLaren Lachman sings with a mother during a show at a medical clinic near Malealea in Lesotho. 'There was a child in a hospital in Haiti having his bandages removed after burn wounds. We played the banjo and sang lullabies and the child, in between crying out of pain, laughed and smiled at our performance.' Photograph: Kim Ludbrook/EPA

Clown Delia Meyer (second from left), also known as 'Fwing', laughs with caregivers while teaching acting skills at Malealea hall in Lesotho. 'We don't tackle taboos, we play with them. We like to take a non-violent and non-aggressive approach, and we don't want to offend. The spirit of the connection needs to be there.' Photograph: Kim Ludbrook/EPA

A clown from Tunisia plays with Somali refugees in a refugee camp in Choucha, near the Tunisia-Libya border. CWB works with the UN children's agency, Unicef, and its refugee division, UNHCR. 'Our core principle is children being children again. It drives everything we do.' Photograph: Khaled Mechergui/AFP/GettyImages

Nicolas Ferre, from France, performs in Manila, Philippines. 'When the children know we're coming, they see it as Christmas coming. I don't know if we replace bad memories, but in a world where there is joy and sorrow we try to bring the joy.' Photograph: Francis R. Malasig/EPA

Georgina Vila Bruch performs in Manila. 'Our work is a celebration, an adventure. You never know what to expect; in one show a goat came along halfway.' Photograph: Francis R. Malasig/EPA

Members of CWB perform in the Palestinian town of Hebron on the West Bank. 'There is a humour in every culture, and in that humour is always a fool element. So even if they have never seen a clown, the clown becomes funny. We research the humour of different cultures and traditions and work our performances according to that.' Photograph: Eitan Abramovich/AFP/Getty Images

Haitian schoolchildren enjoy a performance. 'Food, water and shelter, they're the important things, but what next? Once things have stabilised, they're dealing with the psychological impacts. The work of the clown is one that helps spark a sense of hope and looks for the strength to move on.' Photograph: Thony Belizaire/AFP/Getty Images

A Bosnian soldier spots a clown in central Sarajevo. 'We never take sides and we perform for both sides. We're helping build connections for people in these situations. In Colombia, when we were performing for some children, the death squads came in armed with weapons. The clown told everyone to clap and the death squad put their guns down to join in with the children clapping.' Photograph: Robert King/AP

South African artist Sibusiso Khambule performs in the Kenyan capital, Nairobi. 'We also have family and parenting programmes. The parents are ones who are with the children most of the time, so we also work to help parents deal with behavioral problems that are common after trauma. When we're packing up, we're still playing with the children and interacting with the parents.' Photograph: Jayne Batzofin/Clown Without Borders

Sussie Mjwara, Sibongile Tsoanyane, Bongekile Mabuya, Nadia Woodward, Sabee Shozi, Annabel Morgan, Sphelele Nzama, Zwelithini Thomo and Sipho Mdlesthe perform in rural KwaZulu-Natal, near the South African town of Underberg. 'We are helping each other. The magic of the clown appeals to the human side. It's about making that connection.' Photograph: Florence Leto/Clowns Without Borders