Families from agricultural villages in Bay region who found themselves at the centre of the war between the Somali government and Al-Shabaab militia are struggling to support themselves after fleeing to displacement camps in Baidoa.
Most of the families uprooted by the conflict were preparing their farmlands for planting ahead of the ‘gu seasonal rainfall.
Ali Mohamed Abdi, 47, joined Mubarak camp in Baidoa, where they depend on fellow IDPs for food handouts. He says has never been in such a precarious situation. He and his wife and 10 children are sleeping rough outside with no shelter, and squeezing into their neighbours’ shacks when it rains.
“I don’t have anything to give my children, we get one meal from the people who are also vulnerable people begging to get a living. We don’t leave the camp. We don’t have jobs, we are facing extreme hardships,” he said.
Ali tried to find odd jobs in the city although he has not been unsuccessful.
He said they had 17 sacks of sorghum in store after a bumper harvest from their six-hectare farm, but they had to leave everything behind. He was hoping the grain would sustain them until July when they would harvest more crops.
Everything changed for this family on 19 March, when Somali government forces launched a ground attack aiming to defeat Al-Shabaab militia occupying the area around the villages of El-dhun, Kurta, Dhurey, and Alanka villages in Bay region. The villages are located between 30-50 kilometres away from Baidoa in Bay region.
Ali’s family were forced to abandon their house, farm and food store in El-dhun.
“Life was good in our village; we were working on our farms and we ate our sorghum or whatever we grew on our farm. We were forced to flee…we don’t have anything now and since we came here it’s been tough. We had a good life at home!” Ali exclaimed.
He does not know how long they will have to stay in the camp, as going home depends on when there is peace in their village.
So far about 300 families living in those villages have joined Mubarak and Bogey IDP camps in Baidoa, where they do not have any access to aid or assistance, nor basic services.
Ibrahim Ali Nur, 51, among the displaced, told Radio Ergo that as well as lacking food and shelter, they had no water.
He said he hadn’t had a bath for a week since reaching Mubarak camp, despite trekking for almost two days on dusty roads from their village. Water in the camp costs $2 from privately owned boreholes, and these newly displaced families cannot afford it.
“We don’t have water. We get about three litres from the families who can afford to buy the water. I have to ask people saying we need water just to cook tea and food and I don’t have any money to buy it myself,” he said.
Ibrahim was a well-known businessman among locals in El-dhun village, where he had a shop selling food items among other supplies.
This father of 12 children said they were leading a stable life until everything changed with the sudden eruption of war on their doorsteps. Ibrahim’s wife luckily has found cleaning jobs but she earns a meagre $1-1.5 a day.
“We have nothing, and we are struggling to fit into the life in the camp as newcomers. We have nothing and we depend on the locals and whatever my wife earns, be it one dollar or two,” he said.
Ibrahim used to earn $6-8 a day from his shop in El-dhun. He still holds onto the shop keys, wondering what would have happened to the premises and all his stock and belongings. He hasn’t had any news from the village since fleeing on foot.
Six of his children were in Koranic school, but in the camp they have no school. Their schoolteacher from the village, Sulub Ahmed Abdi, also fled to the camp with them.
Sulub used to give Koranic lessons to 50 students in the village. He didn’t charge fees as such, but the parents chipped in 5,000 shillings ($0.2) every week as a contribution. He owns a four-hectare farm in El-dhun and is frustrated worried as the hit rain fed farm lays bare.
“I am worried about the rain because every farmer would want to have prepared his farm before the rains approach. We would cultivate the land, remove the weeds, and get the soil ready for planting. Now there is no one working on the farm and it has got us worried. We are just staying stay here with our anxiety,” he said.
Sulub, 43, said they don’t have a source of income and are supported with one meal a day by the locals, which he finds an unpalatable substitute for living off his own means.
