This is the BBC.

And this is the podcast for from our own correspondent, which was broadcast on Radio 4 on Saturday, the 7th of January 2017. Of course, it's introduced by Kate Aide.

Hello, it's cold out there and it's not just the weather, there's also the politics and the warfare, so were with the pilots of

drone aircraft as they seek to destroy terrorists.

In Bangladesh's capital, heightened security and fear intermingle. Sierra Leone needs skilled people,

but with its problems will they come home, and our correspondent shelters from the chill wind in a Russian cafe in Washington DC.

To Turkey First, where the authorities have blamed the band Kurdish militant group the PKK

for this week's bomb and gun attack on a courthouse

in the Western city of Ismere. In the last couple of years Turkey has suffered numerous

terrorist attacks often blamed on the PKK, though ISIS claimed responsibility

for the New Year's killing of 39 people in an Istanbul nightclub.

And as Mark Lowen says, the upsurge in violence comes at a time when the country is more divided than ever.

Just 12 hours had passed, but for Ullash Arrik it was beginning to sink in. His father, Aihan, a driver, had transported foreign tourists to Istanbul's Rayna Night Club to see in the new year. As the party continued inside, Ihan waited at the door, drinking tea with a policeman.

When the gunman struck, Ihan was shot in the head. He died instantly.

In the biting wind of New Year's day we stood in an Istanbul mosque watching

Ullash and his family bid farewell to his father. The young boy perhaps 14 years old

stood beside the coffin which was draped in a Turkish flag, and he wept.

He touched the flag, the red that once symbolised the blood of martyrs fighting for Turkey.

Then he slumped onto the coffin, broken-hearted.

Standing there among the journalists and mourners, I reflected on how often this scene had been repeated in the past year, how many funerals I'd watched as terror has gripped Turkey and about how we

as journalists intrude upon personal grief. Our route here is now a tragically well-worn path, the morgue, the homes of relatives, the funeral, and yet each time it hits hard.

There was something particularly emotional about watching Ullash at the funeral that day

...