She’d been busting her hump with laundry, cleaning, and cooking, earning a humble $6-10 daily, just enough to keep her family afloat. After five long years, her gig was pulled from under her feet by her employers, citing financial strain.
“We now lean on our neighbors’ generosity for food. When nothing turns up, we go to bed hungry,” Najmo explained.
“We’ve got zilch. All we can do is pray to the Almighty for relief,” she sighed.
She’s drowning under $400 in back rent and facing eviction. Previous oustings from other homes have left her stressed and desperate to scrape together the funds.
Her kids have been burning up with fever for a solid week, but a hospital visit is out of reach due to empty pockets.
Yet, she hits the pavement every morning in search of work.
“I leave home around 9:30 am. It’s tough without medicine for the kids. I try to soothe myself, believing it’s God who provides,” she confided.
Getting water in their area is a nightmare. Water trucks charge $7.5 per barrel, which she can’t fathom affording. Sometimes, even when they scrounge up food, there’s no water to cook with.
Five of her kids were going to a local school, but the $5 per child fee has become unmanageable since losing her job.
A recent fire at the city’s Waaheen market, regional conflicts, and the looming November elections in North Western State of Somalia have all battered the local economy, leaving folks pinching pennies.
Sahra Ismail Nur, who had filled domestic roles for three years, finds herself out of work too. Employers favor younger girls from rural areas who settle for a meager $40 a month.
She hasn’t had a steady job in two months. Occasionally, a one-off job lands her way, but the paltry pay barely covers a meal.
“We’ve got no water at home, and fetching it is a struggle. I just cast my sorrows to God. There’s so much hardship,” Sahra lamented.
Food prices are soaring. Relying on food credit from a local store, Sahra has hit a wall; she’s $250 in debt over three months, and the store won’t extend more credit until it’s settled.
She’s been job hunting everywhere, even in city offices, all to no avail.
Asiya Mohamed Hashi, mother of two, lost her income in May when her regular cleaning job, which paid $50 monthly, abruptly ended. That job sustained rent, food, and her children’s education.
“Everything’s gone south. We had enough work before – not easy, but it kept us from begging. Now, we sit idle not knowing how to feed the kids,” she lamented.
Asiya shared how grueling the work was and how house owners sometimes reneged on payments. Living with her sickly, elderly mom, she’s anxious about covering medical costs.
Having moved from Burao in 2018 in hopes of better opportunities, she’s now disheartened and fearful, feeling she’s hit a brick wall in Hargeisa. Selling samosas and street snacks once seemed tough, but these days, her past struggles feel like a walk in the park.
