(ERGO) – Mother of nine, Imbiyo Hussein Dahir, says her life has been set back to the time she fled the family farm in the rural area, by their sudden eviction from their internal displacement camp in Baidoa.
She was among around 170 families evicted from Oomane camp in Baidoa in March, when the local landowners announced they had sold the land and everyone living there had to leave immediately.
The eviction caused Imbiyo to lose the small shop she had built up selling shoes and women’s clothing for a living. It brought back the stress of their first displacement in 2023 from Toos-weyne, 30 kilometres from Baidoa, where they had to abandon their four-hectare farm due to conflict and drought.
“We have no work and no income now. I had enough to send my children to school and Koranic studies before but now we struggle to get breakfast, lunch, or supper,” she said.
“Kind people give us a piece of bread, others give us something else…Our life is very bad. I need help, I would hawk things around the camp if I could get help to start a business again.”
Imbiyo, 48, told Radio Ergo that on the night after their forced eviction from the camp, thieves went in and stole all the goods and supplies that she had not been able to pack up and remove.
“The next day, I went back and found nothing. I still don’t know who took them, but I was not the only one who lost everything.”
She had started the shop with $150 donated by NGO, Acted in June 2024. She had built three makeshift houses in the camp, one of which she used as a shop. Raising her children alone since her husband left, she had been supporting the education of the eldest seven children, who were expelled from primary and secondary schools in April as she couldn’t pay the $40 monthly fees.
“My business covered our daily lives well,” she said. “I was part of a merry-go-round savings group and was saving money. Thieves took it all from me! I didn’t think anyone would steal from us, so I covered it with sacks and left it all, thinking I would come back and collect it safely. I couldn’t take it the previous day because it was raining. Now I’m suffering and don’t know what to do with our lives.”
They are staying with relatives in a two-room hut, crowding in at night or when it rains and staying outside under trees during the day.
Jeylaani Warsame Adan, 54, also lost his home and business in the eviction from Oomame camps and has taken his family of five children to Towfiq camp, where he hasn’t yet managed to build a shelter.
Towfiq camp is also insecure, however, as the families living there don’t have a contract with the landowners. Jeylaani had been earning $4-5 a day from his small shop selling food and vegetables. He has no income now and is struggling to feed his family even once a day.
“Our life used to be good,” Jeylaani said. “I had a place to work but the shop is gone now and I have nowhere to set up a business. We were told to leave without warning in mid-March. Our furniture is
just stacked outside. I have no solution for the children, as I have nothing in my hands. We are in need now.”
The Jeylaani family were farmers displaced by drought in 2024 from Goof-gaduud Shabeelow in Bay region. They had been receiving $120 monthly cash aid from Acted, but the aid stopped in January. He had to pull three of his children out of education as he can’t pay the fees.
“They were going to school and I was paying $4 a month for classes and $8 for Koranic lessons. Now they sit around in the neighbourhood playing. I can’t afford it anymore – I have no future.”
He added: “We used to be able to buy enough water but now we can only afford 20 litres a day, costing 1,000 Somali shillings. We use it only for drinking and cooking.”
Mother of nine, Hawo Warsame Adan, also lost her home and business in the eviction from Oomame camp and feels that their current suffering is going unnoticed by those who could help.
Like Imbiyo, her shop selling foodstuffs and shoes was looted overnight as she left with what she could carry to squat in Towfiq camp. They are relying on whatever cooked or dry food the neighbours can spare them.
“We live a very poor life,” Hawo said. “If we get food during the day, we don’t have it at night. Sometimes we get nothing at all. I sometimes put the children to bed hungry with only tea.
We live in poverty and hardship. We want to be seen! We want the community to understand the serious problems we are facing,” she told Radio Ergo.
Hawo, 46, was also displaced in 2023 from Toos-weyne, Bay region, when drought made it impossible to cultivate her three-hectare farm.
She started her business in Oomame camp in February with savings and borrowed money that she can’t repay.
“I owe two and a half million Somali shillings I borrowed from a shop owner. I have no plans how to pay that debt as I can’t afford it now but they ask me for it all the time. God will make it right. He sees that I have children, three of them were expelled from school. They are sitting at home, and I can’t do anything for them,” Hawo said.
Forced evictions of displaced families from informal settlements from privately owned land occur frequently, leaving families even more vulnerable than before.Mother of nine, Imbiyo Hussein Dahir, says her life has been set back to the time she fled the family farm in the rural area, by their sudden eviction from their internal displacement camp in Baidoa.
She was among around 170 families evicted from Oomane camp in Baidoa in March, when the local landowners announced they had sold the land and everyone living there had to leave immediately.
The eviction caused Imbiyo to lose the small shop she had built up selling shoes and women’s clothing for a living. It brought back the stress of their first displacement in 2023 from Toos-weyne, 30 kilometres from Baidoa, where they had to abandon their four-hectare farm due to conflict and drought.
“We have no work and no income now. I had enough to send my children to school and Koranic studies before but now we struggle to get breakfast, lunch, or supper,” she said.
“Kind people give us a piece of bread, others give us something else…Our life is very bad. I need help, I would hawk things around the camp if I could get help to start a business again.”
Imbiyo, 48, told Radio Ergo that on the night after their forced eviction from the camp, thieves went in and stole all the goods and supplies that she had not been able to pack up and remove.
“The next day, I went back and found nothing. I still don’t know who took them, but I was not the only one who lost everything.”
She had started the shop with $150 donated by NGO, Acted in June 2024. She had built three makeshift houses in the camp, one of which she used as a shop. Raising her children alone since her husband left, she had been supporting the education of the eldest seven children, who were expelled from primary and secondary schools in April as she couldn’t pay the $40 monthly fees.
“My business covered our daily lives well,” she said. “I was part of a merry-go-round savings group and was saving money. Thieves took it all from me! I didn’t think anyone would steal from us, so I covered it with sacks and left it all, thinking I would come back and collect it safely. I couldn’t take it the previous day because it was raining. Now I’m suffering and don’t know what to do with our lives.”
They are staying with relatives in a two-room hut, crowding in at night or when it rains and staying outside under trees during the day.
Jeylaani Warsame Adan, 54, also lost his home and business in the eviction from Oomame camps and has taken his family of five children to Towfiq camp, where he hasn’t yet managed to build a shelter.
Towfiq camp is also insecure, however, as the families living there don’t have a contract with the landowners. Jeylaani had been earning $4-5 a day from his small shop selling food and vegetables. He has no income now and is struggling to feed his family even once a day.
“Our life used to be good,” Jeylaani said. “I had a place to work but the shop is gone now and I have nowhere to set up a business. We were told to leave without warning in mid-March. Our furniture is
just stacked outside. I have no solution for the children, as I have nothing in my hands. We are in need now.”
The Jeylaani family were farmers displaced by drought in 2024 from Goof-gaduud Shabeelow in Bay region. They had been receiving $120 monthly cash aid from Acted, but the aid stopped in January. He had to pull three of his children out of education as he can’t pay the fees.
“They were going to school and I was paying $4 a month for classes and $8 for Koranic lessons. Now they sit around in the neighbourhood playing. I can’t afford it anymore – I have no future.”
He added: “We used to be able to buy enough water but now we can only afford 20 litres a day, costing 1,000 Somali shillings. We use it only for drinking and cooking.”
Mother of nine, Hawo Warsame Adan, also lost her home and business in the eviction from Oomame camp and feels that their current suffering is going unnoticed by those who could help.
Like Imbiyo, her shop selling foodstuffs and shoes was looted overnight as she left with what she could carry to squat in Towfiq camp. They are relying on whatever cooked or dry food the neighbours can spare them.
“We live a very poor life,” Hawo said. “If we get food during the day, we don’t have it at night. Sometimes we get nothing at all. I sometimes put the children to bed hungry with only tea.
We live in poverty and hardship. We want to be seen! We want the community to understand the serious problems we are facing,” she told Radio Ergo.
Hawo, 46, was also displaced in 2023 from Toos-weyne, Bay region, when drought made it impossible to cultivate her three-hectare farm.
She started her business in Oomame camp in February with savings and borrowed money that she can’t repay.
“I owe two and a half million Somali shillings I borrowed from a shop owner. I have no plans how to pay that debt as I can’t afford it now but they ask me for it all the time. God will make it right. He sees that I have children, three of them were expelled from school. They are sitting at home, and I can’t do anything for them,” Hawo said.
Forced evictions of displaced families from informal settlements from privately owned land occur frequently, leaving families even more vulnerable than before.
