Famine in Ethiopia: Getting Food to Gode
12 April 2000
A first-hand look at the drought-stricken Somali region of Southeast Ethiopia revealed emaciated livestock and severe malnutrition, but 12 wells rehabilitated by Oxfam brought laughter and hope.
Arriving in the town of Gode deep in the drought affected region of south east Ethiopia is a daunting experience. The flat landscape stretches away in all directions, the wind blows up loose dust and temperatures reach a burning 40 degrees (104 F) at midday. Itís a harsh countryside by anyoneís standards and even the people most comfortable with it, the pastoralists, now find themselves struggling to survive a cruel and sustained lack of rain.
In normal times, pastoralists here herd cattle, sheep, goats and camels, raising their families, living off their livestock and moving around this vast region as the need dictates. Livestock provide them with everything they require. But after three years of drought and little prospect that this yearís rains will come in mid-April, the view across Gode and other zones of this region is bleak.
Once verdant grazing pasture outside Gode has become a dustbowl, dotted with patches of unappetizing stubble. Straggling herds of emaciated sheep criss-cross this expanse of land looking for something to eat. Further afield where camels browse, I found dried up, unyielding acacia trees normally a reliable source of sustenance. The camel train had moved on.
One herder told us that sheep from this area were once a rotund 50 kgs in weight and he mimicked the difficulty they had walking in good times. Now their skinny cousins are a mere 20 kgs, barely worth the slaughter. Camels, too, he said are a shadow of their former selves, able to survive the long journeys, but no longer providing the milk for the families as they used to.
But itís the people in the cattle herding areas of the Somali region who are the worst off. Their herds simply canít travel the distances in search of vegetation. Theyíre dropping dead by the roadside, their twisted carcasses left to dry in the sun. A brutal reminder of an unfolding disaster.
Everyone whoíd come to Gode from the bush told me theyíd lost all their cattle, sometimes as many as 300 animals belonging to an extended family. Theyíd coped in previous years, but this year had finally robbed them of everything.
Some walked 40 kms, others 80 kms, to reach water and the prospect of food. Many were seeking help for their children, weakened and sick from the journey.
Near Deraye, I came across a group of women and children who were on the move. They were living in shelters made of branches at the base of a tree. Three children crouched in the shade of the branches, above them a small bag of precious grain hung carefully.
Attached to a branch were half a dozen green and yellow plastic water containers that provided a splash of colour in the bright, dust coloured landscape. One of the women, draped in the most vibrant red shama kemis, was pregnant and overdue. She had three children with her and only the help of the other women around when her time comes.
I visited the childrenís ward in Gode hospital. Dol Omar was seated in a corner cradling Adel, her one-year old son. Her elder son, Hussein, would have been running around not long ago with the ebullience of a normal four-year old. Instead, he was lying quietly nearby, bearing the clear signs of severe malnutrition.
She and her husband had arrived a few days ago after losing the last of their herd of cattle, sheep and goats. She didnít know what more she could do to help her two children now. Looking at them, the three of us crouched with her, the doctor, my colleague and I, privately couldnít hold out much hope.
Elsewhere in the hospital, people were lying motionlessly, conserving the little energy they have left. And from some wards, I heard the rasping coughs of tuberculosis, another disease that afflicts those weakened by malnutrition.
The hospitalís head doctor, Dr. Tajudin, and the rest of the staff work patiently and energetically trying to manage a situation which worsens by the day. They have some drugs from the International Commission of the Red Cross, but what they really need are pediatricians, nutritionists, respiratory specialists and other support to ease their stretched resources.
Across the hospital compound is the intensive feeding centre set up by a local NGO at the end of February. Itís already full with 208 mothers and babies getting regular liquid food and constant monitoring. Further down the dust track is the supplementary feeding centre which caters three times a day for 2000 people from Gode town. But these are the only two centres for miles around. Villages 70 kilometres away, such as Denan, Adadle and Imi have no such safety net.
Itís meant a daily death rate that climbed sharply in February and now stands at an average of 10 deaths per day in the worst affected villages of Gode zone.
But these emergency feeding centres in Gode town are a small drop in the ocean. They are an bandaid in the scheme of things. Whatís needed now is to get sacks of cereal grain into Gode immediately and in greater numbers and to make sure it gets out to the surrounding villages so that families wont be drawn to the nearest town where their concentration would add to the crisis. This scenario needs to happen for several months to come.
As far as water is concerned, the situation is not as acute as food at the moment. The Wabe Shebele river, which flows from the highlands through Gode to Somalia, still provides water to the town. Its level is low, but itís a perennial source of water. Beyond Gode, rivers and wells have largely dried up and water is being trucked in to villages. Itís not enough and more has to be done.
There was one small irony on a visit to a well in Hadawe, 35 kms north of Gode. I went there to see one of the 12 wells rehabilitated recently by Oxfam. It was crowded with laughing women and children filling their many varied water containers. It was good to see happy faces and hear lots of noise. The irony was, the wells had been damaged in the floods of 1997.
When I left Addis for Gode, the Ethiopian governmentís food reserves contained just two weekís supply for all the targeted parts of the country. The international community, and particularly the European Community, failed to replenish the reserves last year as agreed. Food arriving in Djibouti now is last yearís allocation and this yearís pledges take months to materialise.
Since I returned to Addis, the plight of Gode has made the news and put governments on the spot. This has brought the UNís special envoy to the region and raised the question ëhow could this happen again?í
If the media attention gets food to Ethiopiaís neediest people in the Somali region of the southeast, it may yet avert a famine here, and it will have made us alert to other vulnerable areas of Ethiopia. Once that is done the international community must look at the underlying causes which all too easily and all too often push one of the worldís poorest countries to the brink.
Rachel Stabb is media officer for Oxfam International and was travelling with an Oxfam team looking at work in Gode, Shinille and Jijiga in south east Ethiopia.
