GAROWE, Somalia (AXADLE / KAAB TV) – Tucked away on the outskirts of the sun-drenched city of Garowe lies the Shabelle camp—a place painted with the tales of adversity and resilience. This sprawling sea of patched-together shelters provides sanctuary to thousands of displaced souls from across Somalia, each seeking refuge from the relentless tides of drought and conflict.
You can almost feel the palpable struggle beneath the layers of canvas and metal that make up this temporary haven. As of the middle of 2023, the United Nations reports, roughly 75,000 souls call this arid corner of Puntland their home—a stark increase over the year just gone by. The camp shelters these uprooted lives like a nest offering refuge from southern Somalia’s storm clouds of strife.
For those swept into Shabelle, life is an unending tightrope walk on the edge of survival. The essentials—food, water, shelter—feel like elusive dreams. Educational aspirations? Forget it. The concept of school is as distant as the moon on a cloudy night.
In Shabelle, boys are seen dashing about, transformed by play; their laughter trails behind like a soft echo as they galavant with old car tires. Meanwhile, the girls, under the unforgiving blaze of the sun, carry heavy jugs of water as if bearing the world’s weight on their sturdy young shoulders. These paths, stained with dust, do not lead to schools—they lead only into the expanse of yet another day.
One of Shabelle’s enduring faces is Faadumo Halane. A fierce mother to eleven children, her life in the camp spans eight years. Before this, another 11 years ticked by in a similar camp, equally barren of educational prospects. Amidst the sigh of a boiling pot, she finds herself entangled in the frustration of dreams deferred.
Faadumo laments, “Eight years we’ve been here, and not a single classroom in sight. Back in the other camp, eleven years passed without a school, too.” Her heart aches as six of her brood are ripe for schooling, yet the thought remains a mirage; their young lives unfold amidst chores and endless wandering.
But talk to Faadumo for a while, and hope resprouts. She longs for the day when her children will hold books instead of burdens, break away from the cycle of suffering that now bounds their future. Under the vast sky, her small pot simmers its simple contents, and the scent swirls through the camp while her youngest clings to her side, embodying both the love and the struggles she carries.
“We are pleading for a school,” says Faadumo, voice steady, eyes fierce. “Education is their ticket to a world far brighter than this.” Her sentiment resonates through Shabelle like a soft, persistent melody.
Another mother, Irsho Omar Kaani, shares her plight. “Schools in Garowe do exist,” she says, “but for us displaced folks, school fees are impossible dreams.” It’s a sad reality: financial ruin stands as a gatekeeper to their children’s futures.
The ripple of education’s absence stretches broadly. Mohamed Abdirahman, an educator in Garowe, notes the peril it brings to children, steering them into shadowed dangers. “Without school, paths diverge into riskier ventures,” Mohamed warns—education is the rudder that steadies these young lives.
Human rights lawyer Habib Abdullahi Isse calls out the societal responsibility to unshackle these children from ignorance. “Every child’s education is a right—a duty” he remarks, echoing a call to action for the government and community alike.
Shabelle’s leader, Aadan Adde, sees promise in a camp-anchored school, a simple solution that could be transformative. “Education here, free of fees, would mean so much,” he explains.
The local education department’s head, Daahir Khalif Saciid, unfolds plans stirring hope. “Awareness campaigns and collaboration with local authorities aim to bridge the gap,” he shares, painting a path forward where education touches every life, irrespective of where they stand.
The dusty thoroughfares of Shabelle hum with dreams yet to bloom, with mothers like Faadumo and Irsho carrying torchlight hopes for a school to uplift their children. Until then, the tents and tarps of Shabelle silently stand, reminding all of the untapped potentials scattered beneath the relentless Somali sun.
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Report by Axadle
Edited by: Ali Musa
alimusa@axadletimes.com
Axadle international–Monitoring
