Desperate Serbwife

Stories about Darfur

This post came from an email I received from a friend of mine who has spent the past 2 years trying to provide humanitarian assistance to the victims of genocide in the Sudan. The people and events he describes are all true...


It is early morning in Deleige. The sky is greying as beyond the distanthills the sun begins its monotonous journey. The grey light reveals a sea ofblue plastic sheeting and straw huts, this ocean of humanity is a camp for internally displaced people. At this hour all is peaceful and only the occasional cockcrow or braying of donkey disturbs the dawn. A pall of grey smoke from the campfires of 8,000 families shrouds the camp. In one straw hut near the edge of the camp a young girl called Huda lies awake unable to sleep. Only just out of her teens her two small sons sleep soundly beside her. Her dreams are haunted with dark figures surrounding her grabbing at her. She lies still with her back to her husband recalling the nightmare and feeling the shame.

Late in the evening Ahmed's family sit around a blazing campfire as he tries to sleep. His mother sings softly to him to lull him to sleep. In the distance he can hear the cry of the imam calling the people to prayer. The haunting chant brings back memories of that Friday a year ago. That day he and his father went to market to trade some donkeys. After lunch he accompanied his father to the mosque for prayers. Ahmed was watching the men were bowing towards Mecca and chanting in unison when he became aware of other noises in the distance, the sounds of the guns firing and people screaming. Ahmed and his father ran to the door with the other men only to discover that the Janjaweed had surrounded the mosque. The leader of the Janjaweed commanded that all adult men be taken away. There was complete one by one the men of the mosque were led away. Ahmed never saw his father alive again, his body was discovered in a mass grave nearby. It's amazing how fast a year and a half can go by, how so much can happen in that space of time and yet how so little can change.

And so February 2006 begins and my time in Darfur comes to an end. These events continue to happen. Violence continues all across Darfur, the number of armed groups operating in the region grows more diverse. Not a day goes by without a report of women raped or men killed. Tearfund staff have had to evacuate from their field office on the Chadian border because they are being targeted by militias. Sudan and Chad are sending troops to their borders and war looks imminent. The humanitarian community looks on in frustration and despair. At the time we are needed most we are unable to be there with the people because of the dangers. What can we do? The people look to us for protection, we are after all their 'saviours'. We continue to do what we cando; to dig latrines, build wells and dole out our Band-Aid remedies of plastic sheeting, mosquito nets and food. The people say to us, we don't need your aid, we need your protection, but all we can do is shrug helplessly. What do I have to offer, can I make a difference? Is there anypoint? These are the frustrating questions that arise again and again. There have been some moments of hope and many moments of despair.

It is late afternoon in Deleige IDP camp. The sun has lost its white hotness and people are beginning to emerge from the shade. The camp is alive with noise. A stream of children floods between the shelters and pools in a large flat area. There are more than 3000 children milling about the moring a trees waiting in anticipation, today is the day of the Tearfund health clubs. In the middle of the crowd is young Ahmed, his face is beaming as he waits with his friend for the club to start. The children begin to divide into small groups and find a suitable tree to congregate beneath. Ahmed is a member of Huda's club. Huda arrives a little later and she sits the children down and produces the puppets Adam and Howa. She tells the children the story about how young Adam didn't wash his hands after using the latrine and his sister Howa caught him about to eat dinner with dirty hands. As the children sing raucously she smiles proudly at them. Ahmed is lost in the excitement and claps his hands. This is the day in the week that gives Huda a sense of purpose. For a moment the past is forgotten and for both Ahmed and Huda the future offers a glimmer of hope.

I pondered these things while sitting beneath the shade of some large trees in Deleige IDP camp. With only 2 weeks to go, I was considering what had been achieved in the time I'd been in Darfur. So, although Darfur may have faded from TV screens and newspapers, although the genocide here has been overshadowed by many disasters in 2005, don't forget the people of Darfur and their unresolved tragedy.

posted by Brooke @ 4:46 PM