Somali Refugees

You have been reading the news regarding Somalia: the fighting, the fleeing, the starving, and the dying. My friend, Derek Hammond, and I flew down from Addis Ababa to the border of Ethiopia and Somalia (Kenyan border is around 5 miles away),where so many terrified and emaciated Somalis were pouring into camps that were not ready for 2,000 people a day. 

We are here representing Colonel Doner and Children's Hunger Relief Fund. 

     
The plan is to find a pilot who is cool with landing in the desert, find our way to the refugees, assess the needs, and make contact with anyone who can help us with logistics involved in delivering aid and relief.

I say, “plan,” but when you don’t know anyone, have no idea what you are walking in to, and are fairly dead in the water if you can’t find a translator – “plan” is far too concrete a description.

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It’s hot. Seeing clouds of dust off in the distance, we head off in the direction of the people, donkeys and cars that must be causing the sand to fly.  First question is, “Where do we start?” We need to find someone—anyone—who can help us or at least point us in the right direction. Upon seeing a partially erected cell tower, we figured that might be a safe area to begin looking.

Sure enough, it was in the middle of UN camp. We bang on the metal door. We are given entre, but that’s it. We see some offices and go door-to-door but nada, zip, kibosh. Finally, someone tells us to wait and he will send someone who will help us with assessments.

Laura, a friendly young Brit, sits down and starts to give us the lay of the land, which is pretty much, "This has all happened so quickly we are playing catch up." Tall American gentleman walks in, “I heard an American laughing!” (He is from Seattle.) He then goes on to describe the disarray, the confusion, the fragile infrastructure, and lists the specific needs and which organizations were seeking to meet those needs.

First thing we are instructed to do is to meet the Ethiopian official in charge of overseeing the camps in this area (3 camps, one transition camp where people are checked out medically, registered, and then shuffled to larger camps. 118,000 people here, so far.) Nice guy. We need to have papers. We can’t go anywhere until we are “approved.” Blah, blah, well-meaning bureaucratic blah.

Ok. Based on the age old premise that it is easier to get forgiveness than permission, we strike out to find our way to the transition camp, about 3 miles away.

Yup. We need a translator!

Less than 3 minutes after leaving the Ethiopian official, a young man walks up to me: (In English) “I have taken a 2 hour course in management. Hire me.” So we hired him to find us transport and be our interpreter.

 

Somalis seeking to make a living. Kiosks

line the dusty roads coming up around

the UN Base camp.

Thousands of people, not enough tents

Make shift tents built from tree branches

blankets, and debris.

So. Do you think his parents will be

smiling when they realize where

their ration of water went!

Filia Abdiow with her family. 

Three days tekking through the

desert. The camel died. The goats died.

They arrive only to find out there is

no room ... yet. Interesting. These 

people know the west is sending money:

Where is it? Where is OUR Help? 

Hey ... bet the white guy has a food bar!

Yes. That is me, returning to the plane. I now can say I have experienced a desert storm. Sand feels like it is going to rip your skin from your arms and face!

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All in all, it was a productive trip. We need to iron out a few more logistics, but in the next month or so, we shall be sending our first shipment of food: over 20 tons of it. But that won't be enough. 

Please navigate over to CHRF's web site and make a donation to help these people.

Copyright, Monte E Wilson, 2011. This includes the photos. If you want to use them write me and ask permission. If not, I will find you, and your next photo will be a mug shot!