In the sun-scorched stretches of Kenya’s Dadaab refugee camp, many Somali families have sought shelter, not only from the turbulence of war but also from the ever-encroaching shadows of climate change. This narrative crafts a tapestry of human resilience, reflecting lives uprooted and rebuilt under the blistering African sun.
Originally opened in 1991, Dadaab became a sanctuary for those escaping Somalia’s civil war. However, recent years have seen another wave—a flood of climate migrants. Monumental droughts, compounded by catastrophic El Niño storms in early 2024, have unsettled communities already suffering through one of the most severe droughts seen in decades.
This mass movement has been meticulously recorded by Amnesty International, highlighting the plight of climate-displaced Somalis who now seek refuge within Kenyan borders.
In this backdrop, six resilient souls share their tumultuous journeys and the struggle of forging new lives far from home, offering a heartrending window into the impacts of a changing climate.
As delegates gather in Baku, fervent calls from activists demand increased financial commitments from affluent nations towards climate adaptation initiatives and the Loss and Damage Fund, crucial for those bearing the brunt of ecological upheaval.
Ahmed Haji, 33, reflects, “Our community was obliterated by floods.”
Ahmed, hailing from Dinsoor in Somalia, witnessed his fields wither under the ruthless drought starting in 2021. Just when the community looked skyward with hope for rain, the torrents came, yet only to sow illness and misery.
“Without resources for healthcare, I turned to age-old remedies and prayer for my children’s well-being,” Ahmed explained.
With no option left, he made the heart-rending decision to leave. A journey spanning 15 arduous days took him and eight other families to Dadaab, carrying only essentials like maize porridge and water.
Upon reaching Dadaab, malnutrition claimed his family, sending them to a hospital—a foreign experience for Ahmed. His younger children received their initial vaccinations, and he witnessed a hospital-assisted birth for the first time.
“Returning to Somalia seems unthinkable, where neither healthcare nor hope exists,” he expressed.
Halimo Osman, at 40, clings to a sliver of hope, “Maybe one day, returning to my farm will be possible.”
From Sakow in Middle Juba, Halimo’s life was ravaged by three years of drought followed by the 2022 floods that wiped out her crops.
Forced to abandon her village, she liquidated her possessions to keep her family afloat.
“I constantly asked myself, ‘How can you remain where your children starve?’” she recounted.
The road to Dadaab spanned two days by hired transportation, with the journey buoyed by kind-hearted strangers along the route.
Now sheltered in Dadaab, Halimo finds solace in the nourishment and shelter available, though the yearning to return to her farm persists.
“The thought of village recovery dims daily, and returning seems more like a distant dream,” she lamented.
Abdirahman Yonis, at the tender age of 18, hopes for “a future brighter than the one we escaped.”
From Marerey near the Juba River, Abdirahman faced annihilation of his home by floods in 2023.
The polluted river brought illness to his doorstep, compounding their plight.
Settled in Dadaab, Abdirahman remains resolute in reconstructing his life for his young family.
“The losses linger, but hope guides me towards forging a better future,” he reflected.
Khalid Elmi, age 51, resignedly proclaims, “I had no choice but to depart.”
A farmer from Baladu Rahmo, Jubaland, Khalid endured seven agonizing years of drought, reducing his harvests to diminutive amounts at half-year intervals.
Pests and famine stole family members, including his mother and a child.
In 2022, Khalid joined the throng heading to Dadaab, leaving behind a ghost village of 16 souls. “Leaving was inevitable,” he confessed.
Shukri Ilyas, 51, asserts, “Returning to Somalia seems impossible for us.”
Once a thriving farmer, drought claimed Shukri’s crops and, with them, her livelihood. She sold her remaining livestock, enduring an 18-day donkey cart journey to Dadaab.
The trek was fraught with peril; tragedy struck when a fellow traveler lost a child that had to be laid to rest en route.
“Dadaab now marks our new beginnings. Schools are accessible for my children—a previously unimaginable prospect in Somalia,” Shukri related.
Aden Mohammed, 58, remains driven by the dream of “a brighter future for my children.”
A herder from Warangob in Bu’ale, Aden lost his living to the relentless dance of drought and floods. Once yielding nearly 80 sacks of sorghum, he now stares at an uncertain horizon.
Determined, Aden’s family embarked on a two-week journey to Dadaab. The path tested their endurance and left them vulnerable.
Despite the struggle, Aden’s optimism shines. “Education holds immense value, and I dream of paving a brighter path for my children,” he asserted.
Edited by: Ali Musa
alimusa@axadletimes.com
Axadle international–Monitoring
