We arrived in Mogadishu, Somalia, around 8:30 a.m. local time, and started to work immediately—knowing that our time here is limited, we wanted to make every minute as efficient as possible.
Just as immediately, we felt the difference of Somalia from Kenya. Ridwan finally got the front seat after I, the sole lady in this Islamic Relief USA convoy, had been forced to take the front seat every time in Kenya—now,
I was relegated (and gladly so) to the back, where there were tinted windows that would help shade me from the strong Somali sun and from those outside.
That simple difference complemented the sentiment Ridwan was about to say, as he squinted out the car’s window, “This is a very different situation.” I concurred.
It was different than anything he or I had seen before—different from Kenya, and certainly different from the Egypt and Palestine trip we had taken earlier this summer. Buildings were laden with bullet holes; youths were nonchalantly carrying rifles in the streets; dry desperation filled the air with dust—and while they didn’t have much else, pedestrians and passersby had many smiles to give each other and even us.
We finally arrived to the Islamic Relief Somalia office, and were given a debriefing of the current situation and a first-hand account of the programs Islamic Relief USA has helped support in Somalia so far. Jama Hanshi, with Islamic Relief Somalia, told us that more than four million people across Somalia had been affected by the drought, and the largest concentrations of these were in southern Somalia: in the Mudug, Galgadad, Hiran, Bakol, Bay, Gedo, middle Shabelle, lower Shabelle, Banadir, middle Jubba and lower Jubba regions. Jama added, “3.7 million people are in need of food aid, and 2.2 million of these individuals are in the south.” He even said that cereal production in southern Somalia had now reached its lowest levels in 17 years.
So what is Islamic Relief—the only humanitarian group to currently have a fully-functioning office and staff in Somalia—doing about it? Jama explained that Islamic Relief’s initial target is to provide assistance to 50,000 households in the region; that’s roughly 300,000 people. So far, Islamic Relief has implemented sanitation services; has distributed food packs; has identified and rehabilitated nonfunctional boreholes—and the plans for this coming month include providing support to families willing to relocate; conducting wider feeding programs; servicing more people across other regions; and training locals to be “wash” communities—essentially, helping them learn best practices for water and sanitation so that they can prevent the spread of disease that may become especially rampant if rains come in the next months.
AbdelAziz Hussein emphasized that as well. He served as guide and translator during our time at an internally displaced persons (IDP) camp in Siliga. In its former life, this IDP camp was the site of the U.S. Embassy; now, the remnant rubble of those buildings is the only identifier that they ever existed. More than 20,000 IDP “households” made Siliga a place of refuge for thousands of Somalis seeking salvation from the drought.
Sa’adiya, a gentle lady, manages the camp, which is best-known for its medical services: a three-member health teams provide vital medical services to IDPs at a health clinic—and when a refugee can’t make it to the health center for help, a minibus system takes the medical team to him or her. During Ramadan, Sa’adiya helped manage a Ramadan feeding center that provided for at least 1,500 beneficiaries.
“The people in the camp are mostly affected by the drought. Water is the core issue here,” AbdelAziz tells us.
He is the wash coordinator, and had just completed a robust assessment report on the conditions in the camp, which resulted in the implementation of additional programs: “Insha’Allah we’ll be implementing a water trucking system here by next week. We’ve already started it at another camp, and it has been quite successful.”
AbdelAziz’s statement took me back to one I had heard the day before at the Humanitarian Forum in Nairobi: “Everything is water—if we can manage this, we can solve the drought and we can help civil society. Water is life in Somalia, and it is peace as well.”
After water, sanitation is the next priority and challenge, according to AbdelAziz: “I included in my report the need for basic hygiene packets and water solutions. The people here are in too close contact—if one gets sick with measles, others will catch it. The people need to be educated so they can know how to take care of themselves and stop the spread of disease.” And as we’ve heard at the week’s earlier conferences; during Jama’s presentation, when he shared that about 80% of diseases can be prevented by proper wash techniques, and now, from AbdelAziz, education on sanitation will be vital to helping prevent mass disease-spread when (or if) the rains return in October.
If you ask 38-year old Fatimah Dahir Yousef, laying on a tattered mat under a tree to get some shelter from the heat, it’s too late for prevention; she needs help now—she is suffering from Chickenpox, and she can’t do much except move her hijab a bit when it gets in her way.
His wife is too weak to move a covering from her face, so, Hussain Noor Deli, 22, does it for her as he invites myself, Ridwan and AbdelAziz into his tent to take a look: we see Dek Adel Hassan, 16, on her right side, virtually immobile with her eyes swollen: “It’s measles,” AbdelAziz translates, one of the most common and contagious diseases to hit the camp. “They are in such close proximity, and they don’t isolate themselves when they’re sick; measles is so easily treatable and preventable, but the people are not aware of how—and this is why education is so important.” AbdelAziz says.
But, al hamdulilah, there have already been very noticeable improvements: Aisha Usman Abdi, who manages the camp’s health clinic, tells us that hundreds of people were coming to the medical center every day to receive treatment; the numbers are slowly but surely dwindling as the help the people are getting through the camp and through the support Islamic Relief and other humanitarian groups are providing is helping to strengthen their bodies and their morale. She adds that the fact that the medical center is now fully equipped with the proper medicines, means she no longer has to send people away or ask them to go elsewhere for help.
As I thank Aisha for her time and information, she cups my hands with hers and says, “Waad mahad sanlahin, thank YOU, and assalamu alaikum!” “La shukr a’a il wajib, no thanks necessary for the obligatory!” AbdelAziz had humbly told me that several times during our discussion, and it is a most-appropriate response here.
And, so, I pass the many “thank-yous” and “assalamu alaikums” and the gracious and strong Somali spirit that we experienced during our visit to Siliga to the community of supporters. YOU are helping make positive change, masha’Allah—this was perhaps best exemplified by the loud and beautiful Qur’an recitation we heard as we were exiting the camp; it came from young children attending Islamic school in a tent (shout out to Islamic Relief Austrailia for supplying the Qur’ans for this school).
If the size and the stories of the Siliga IDP camp are any indication, there are miles more to go in ways to help. And, the people of Mogadishu know—and trust—that we are all doing our bests to provide it under the guidance and mercy of Allah (swt).
“Waad mahad sanlahin!” [thank you in Somali]
