Struggle and Resilience in the Face of Conflict

Amidst the relentless sun and vast stretches of barren land, the quest for survival becomes an art of its own. For many displaced families, each day begins with the search for something as simple yet elusive as shade. It’s a daily journey in which finding shelter from the sun can be just as challenging as securing the next meal.

“When we were in our own area, life was different,” Ubax recalls, her eyes reflecting both the nostalgia and pain of what’s been lost. “The children drank camel milk. We lived well, with plenty of food. Now, I can’t even imagine that life again. All I want is to survive.”

The emotional weight of Ubax’s words parallels the harsh realities faced by her and countless others. Tragedy struck her family when Al-Shabaab’s violence claimed the life of her husband and 15 cherished camels back in January. The conflict didn’t stop there—it tore down their one source of income: a modest restaurant once bustling with activity and bringing in about $20 a day.

“We had to walk 15 hours on foot to reach the camp. We had no car, and no money to pay for transport,” Ubax shared with Radio Ergo.

The conflict has managed to engulf more than just individuals; it has severely affected entire communities of pastoralists and farmers in areas like Bacaadweyne, Shabeelow, Cimaamad, and Jiicdhere Hareeri, all within the region of Mudug.

Take Saadiyo Ahmed Mahmoud‘s family as a case in point. This family of six found themselves uprooted to Bacaadweyne and then arriving at the Somaliweyn camp on the 10th of January. They dwell in a shelter that’s hardly a refuge, crudely assembled from any wood and rags they could scavenge. “Our makeshift house, built from wood and rags we found, can’t protect us from the cold or sun. When we arrived, tents were given out, but we didn’t receive any,” Saadiyo said, a note of resignation and quiet endurance in her voice.

In their current reality, they must stretch 10 kilograms of food, donated by compassionate neighbors in mid-February, to cover each day’s necessity, often resulting in no more than a meager single meal daily. Water, a basic requirement for life, has transformed into a commodity out of reach due to crippling debts.

“The water trucks demand $2.5 per liter. If you can’t pay upfront, they won’t supply it. We owe $50, so we’re cut off,” Saadiyo explained, painting a grim picture of their daily battles.

Once thriving on a livelihood reliant on a herd of 40 goats, the family’s current situation is a stark contrast. Those goats, symbols of their sustenance and stability, fell victim to the ongoing conflict. Saadiyo emphasized the urgency of their plight, one echoed by many around them.

The widespread violence hasn’t just stolen lives and properties—it has decimated local economies, bringing trade and production to a screeching halt. As displaced families scatter across safer havens, they inadvertently strain the already limited resources of their host communities.

In these precarious conditions, health becomes yet another casualty. Local doctor Ali Cigaal Qayliye voiced a chilling warning: “If displaced people lack shelter, food, and water, malnutrition spreads rapidly. Children, women, and the elderly suffer first, and everyone is susceptible to diseases from unsafe water.” The consequences are dire. Vulnerable groups, notably children under five, pregnant or breastfeeding women, and the elderly, face heightened risks of malnutrition and illnesses such as cholera.

Indeed, what does survival look like when your entire world has collapsed? For these resilient individuals, it means cobbling together strength in the face of adversity, finding hope in the smallest acts of kindness, and clinging to each other as they navigate a path towards a better tomorrow.

Edited By Ali Musa, Axadle Times International–Monitoring.