North Western State of Somalia Pastoralists Seek Aid After Storm Devastates Ainabo Camp

Elderly IDP women sit outside their makeshift shelters/File Photo

- Advertisement -

In the heart of North Western State of Somalia’s Ainabo district, several hundred displaced pastoralists have found themselves adrift, grappling with the aftermath of devastating rain and storm winds that struck their camp. The destruction left many homeless and struggling to secure basic necessities, primarily food.

Among those affected is Fadumo Mohamed Hassan, a mother of five, who is one of the 200 families forced to sleep under the open sky since their homes were obliterated in the Yamayska camp outside Oog on June 2. The anguish of watching one’s shelter vanish in a storm is unfathomable. For Fadumo and her children, nighttime now brings not only cold but also a host of menacing mosquitoes. They have resorted to creating a makeshift shelter using plastic sheets and cardboard—materials scavenged from their surroundings. It’s a stark contrast to the comfort of a home, and their current scenario raises a poignant question: How do families endure life’s unpredictability and find hope after such loss?

“It was a very strong wind that took all the houses,” Fadumo recalled, her voice echoing the collective despair of many. “Our biggest problems are lack of shelter, food, blankets – and mosquitoes as big as flies, making our lives miserable.” With small children in tow, many other families rushed to Oog, seeking refuge with relatives. Fadumo, however, has no such option, reinforcing her role as the emotional and physical pillar of her family.

In the past, she found solace in the sporadic aid from charitable organizations and supplemented her family’s needs by collecting firewood to sell. “When we needed supplies, we would get small things from shops in town and pay them back gradually whenever we earned money,” she explained. Islamic Relief had supported them with food for three months, but that assistance has long since dwindled. “We’ve had nothing since then.”

The pressure of looming debts weighs heavily on her shoulders. Shopkeepers are demanding repayment for what she owes before they can extend new credit. To compound the strain, Fadumo battles a bout of bronchitis that has hampered her ability to work, leaving her solely responsible for providing for her children. The days are long and arduous, punctuated by frantic searches for food and water. With just one meal a day for her children, supported occasionally by relatives in Oog, her worry grows with each setting sun. The pursuit of water—a three-kilometer trek to a hand-dug well—reveals the stark realities faced by displaced communities.

“We lost all our 150 goats and 20 camels in the earlier drought,” she lamented, reflecting on a past life filled with abundance and community. Relocated in 2017 to Yamayska camp by North Western State of Somalia authorities under pressing circumstances, Fadumo recalls, “That’s where the government brought us. Until yesterday, women were going back to the camp to retrieve what they could.” The recent storm left them searching for remnants of a life they once knew, back and forth in a desperate bid to salvage anything of value.

Fadumo is not alone in this ordeal. Another mother, Yurub Hassan Mohamed, now finds herself camped beneath a solitary acacia tree, adrift after being displaced from Garadag in the Sanag region due to a drought that claimed her herd of 100 goats. The trials of mothering in such conditions are evident; Yurub, while concealing the number of children she cares for, shared that they too suffer from the same persistent hardships.

Food is scarce, and she often goes days without a proper meal. “Organisations used to come to us there. One built five latrines for us, another built four. That’s all we got though. Then the wind hit us,” she said, invoking memories of a time when assistance flowed more freely. The storm left its mark, injuring two young boys and an elderly woman—reminders of the fragility of life amidst chaos.

Motivated by an indomitable spirit, Yurub has joined forces with other displaced individuals to construct makeshift huts, striving to create a more secure environment for those affected. “We started some yesterday, some today. Work will continue tomorrow,” she said, expressing a determination that seems to surge from the core of community resilience. “You can’t live on bare land. This place has wild animals, and we fear them. We worry about thieves coming at night.” Such fears are indicative of the multifaceted challenges confronted by displaced families in precarious situations.

Adan Yusuf Dheef, a father of eleven, has also found himself at the mercy of fate. His reliance on relatives in Oog underscores the complexities of family ties amidst tragedy. He lamented, “We lack shelter, food, and clothing. Life is hard. We have 100 percent nothing.” Once a livestock broker, Adan’s livelihood crumbled when market activity ceased. The weight of despair is palpable as he contemplates his uncertain future, reflecting on the devastating loss of 200 goats during the 2016-17 drought.

As they await external assistance, the stark truth remains: these individuals are navigating a tumultuous sea of uncertainty. “We will stay in the location where we are now until the government or aid organisations offer us something better,” Yurub vowed, showcasing not just resilience but an interwoven hope for a brighter tomorrow.

Edited By Ali Musa
Axadle Times International – Monitoring

banner

This website uses cookies to improve your experience. We'll assume you're ok with this, but you can opt-out if you wish. Accept Read More