Oxfam's work—whether helping Guatemalan women organize to fight gender violence, funding irrigation projects in Ethiopia, or standing with people in Darfur—is about building the resilience of local communities over the long haul. We cannot prevent shocks, but we can help our sisters and brothers access some of the same resources we have to cushion us when times are lean.
We cannot rush from crisis to crisis with short-term fixes. What more evidence do we need than what is happening in East Africa now? This is not the region's first famine, but imagine the headline: Africa's last famine.
This, she explains, is the result of education.
Every month in the camps near El Fasher town, a team of health workers—elected by their community and trained by Oxfam—fans out to bring messages about health and hygiene to thousands of residents. The workers go house to house, teaching newcomers about disease vectors, hand washing, and the use of latrines, and they organize community-wide campaigns to clean everything from streets to latrines to household water cans.
You might think people would resent unsolicited advice about their personal habits, but the health workers generally get a warm welcome. Women, who have the primary responsibility for the care of children and homes, are happy to receive this information, say the workers. And for the most part they take the advice.
"If they don’t want to accept what we are saying, we don't go harsh on them," says health worker Halima Nasur "We just communicate the information peacefully." But the cost of not heeding hygiene messages could be outbreaks of deadly disease, so the health workers sometimes ask community leaders to intervene. "They nicely teach a woman the importance of our work to her family. Then she listens."
For the health workers, their job is a labor of love. "I believe that all the people in the camp are my sisters and brothers," says Nasur. "We are never going to let our people down."
When it came to guarding the health of her family and community, Gado needed no coaxing. "From the public health women, I learned to cover food to keep away flies because they transmit diseases. I also learned about keeping things clean—our jerry cans, kitchen utensils, latrines, and my children's hands," she says. "Previously, my children didn’t wash their hands before they ate. They were often weak and not healthy. Now, they wash their hands before eating. They don't suffer from diarrhea, and if they happen to get sick, it isn't something serious."
Once learned, it is hard to forget the life-and-death importance of good hygiene practices, and according to Gado, the work of Oxfam and the community health workers is likely to have a lasting impact. "I learned these values, and I'm going to apply them throughout my life," she says. "I would like to thank all of the people who have supported us," says Gado, "and I wish them good health."
]]>Over time, that will mean one third of the dangerous fuel-gathering trips to the countryside, one third the loss of trees, one third the smoke inhaled by Dawelbiat and her young ones, one third the air emissions. And now that she is buying her fuel in the marketplace, she’s spending a third of what she used to and has more money to feed and clothe and educate her children.
Her stove—known as the Berkeley-Darfur Stove—is the brainchild of the Darfur Stoves Project (DSP), a US-based Oxfam partner organization that draws on the work of engineers at the Lawrence-Berkeley National Laboratory in California. DSP worked with women in Darfur to develop a stove suited to their needs that would use less than half the fuel of a traditional three-stone fireplace and significantly less than other stove models that are available locally. The result is a portable 12-sided metal stove - around 12” in every dimension - that is as advanced in its design as it is simple in its construction. And whose frugal output is a match for the scarce resources of the Darfur camps.
On a day in December, while her daughter and a friend play on a mat behind her and a neighbor holds her ten-month-old baby, Dawelbiat sits down on a low stool next to her stove and begins to cook her family’s mid-morning meal. The kitchen is a low mud-brick building, shadowy but brightly lit where the sun slips in through the doorway.
She places a pot of water on the stove, adds a few pieces of wood to the firebox, and sets the fire going with a match. When the water boils, she sprinkles ground millet into the pot and stirs it with a long, carved wooden stick until she’s created a thick porridge—known as asida—which she sets aside in a bowl. The next course is mullah, a soup made of onions fried in oil with dried meat, crushed tomato, okra, and spices. And finally, tea. In the space of an hour, Dawelbiat and her fistful of kindling have produced a meal for six.
At the compound of Oxfam partner SAG (Sustainable Action Group) in nearby El Fasher, the usual sounds of a Darfur town—the roar of vehicles, the clatter of grain mills, and the bleats and brays of animals—is replaced with the banging of metal on metal. Here in a building sided and thatched with sorghum stalks, eight men from the Al Salaam camp work at tables assembling Berkeley-Darfur stoves. They smile at visitors and get back to work, bending and hammering metal into its designated size and shape. To the list of benefits of the stoves can be added one more: employing survivors of the conflict, who—uprooted from their homes and farms—struggle to find any work at all.
So far, SAG and the workers from the camps have produced and distributed around 9,000 stoves. With enough funds, they’ll create 15,000 stoves in 2011. Some will go to the camps, others to rural areas hard up against the deadly combination of deforestation and armed conflict.
Dawelbiat is shy with strangers, but her praise for the stove is effusive all the same. “The stove is good because it’s efficient and saves fuel and cooks faster. It’s better at keeping the kitchen clean, and there is less smoke. You can easily cook with it and easily move it around. Even a small portion of fuel can make your food.”
“More people should have these stoves,” she concludes.
It is a point that no one argues.
]]>Around the camps of Darfur, trees are precious and few. The summer sun is fierce, and the shelter of trees is not so much a comfort as a necessity. Here in the shade, men weave colorful strings into beds, and women take turns pounding corn into meal with a giant mortar and pestle. Children play games and share the cool shadows with a donkey at rest.
Since 2003, when the crisis in Darfur drove millions of people from their homes into temporary settlements, the demand for firewood has taken a heavy toll on trees in and around the camps. But there are subtle signs of recovery: along the wide, sandy streets of the camps near the town of El Fasher, saplings of fruit and forest trees are emerging from behind protective fences built of brick and woven thorn.
The young trees were raised in a nearby nursery and distributed by the Darfur Recovery and Development Organization (DRA), a Sudanese partner of Oxfam. There are lemon and guava trees for fruit; the fast-growing neem, which has medicinal qualities; and the arak, which can survive any drought – 5,000 trees in all, distributed to the displaced communities for planting and care. Soon there will be shade and fruit, and the beginnings of a forest to replace those that were lost.
It was under a laloba tree that Adam Musa used to wait with 60 or 70 other men for an offer of work each day. The labor was hard – often loading trucks with sand, rubble, and bricks. Ten men might get hired on a given morning, but Musa was at a disadvantage: he was wounded in the war during an attack on his village. His right calf is scarred and painful, and he walks with a visible limp.
“If Allah has given you more life,” warned his doctor, “you should not carry heavy things.” But with parents and children to support, he had little choice.
It’s different now, thanks to DRA and a gentle donkey named Murzoog. DRA worked with community leaders in the camps around El Fasher to identify 100 residents – of whom Musa was one – who were struggling to care for their dependents. The agency provided them with carts, donkeys, and training in the care and feeding of the animals – teaching them how to make a harness that won’t cause injury, the importance of veterinary care, and how to provide all the nutrients a hard-working donkey needs to stay healthy.
He and Murzoog now make deliveries around the camp, hauling small loads of construction material, fuel, water, and whatever else needs moving. The work is easier and the money is better than before. Now Musa is able to send all his children to school and supplement their diet of sorghum and lentils with okra, tomatoes, dried meat, onions, milk, and salad. Sometimes there is rice for the children, he says. “It’s everything we need.”
In the nearby camp of Zamzam, Kobra Khatir hires people like Adam Musa to transport her produce, though not long ago, it was far beyond her means.
Khatir’s husband was killed in the conflict, and for years she struggled to raise four young children on her own. When DRA asked community leaders in three camps near El Fasher to identify 150 women and youth who were in greatest need of assistance, she was chosen – a decision that has changed her life.
The agency provided her a grant of $135 and a series of trainings in entrepreneurship, and now she is a successful market vendor. “Before I received support, I had nothing,” she says. “I used to go and work for people all day and come back with five pounds [$2.25].”
Now she sits in the shade of a laloba tree selling fresh food like limes, grapefruit, oranges, bread, and homemade peanut butter. Each day she earns two to four times what she used to make as a casual laborer – enough to feed and clothe her children and send them to school when they come of age. And she’s saved up enough for a goat, so the children have milk – and the promise of more goats to come.
Like a skillful tailor, DRA gathers up the broken threads of life in Darfur and weaves them back together, matching the needs of the most vulnerable camp residents with the demands of the marketplace, and the needs of the environment with those of the people who live in it.
So far, it is working well.
“A vulnerable widow who had nothing in the past now has something,” says Musa Ibrahim Musa, a community leader whose camp has benefited from all three programs of DRA. “The donkey cart program helped people earn an income. Trees are growing and maybe next year will bear fruit. These programs have really improved the lives of our people.”
]]>In a new report, “Rescuing the Peace in Southern Sudan”—released shortly before the fifth anniversary of the signing of the peace agreement between the Sudanese government and the Sudan People’s Liberation Movement—the agencies said a lethal cocktail of rising violence, chronic poverty, and political tensions has left the peace deal on the brink of collapse.
“It is not yet too late to avert disaster, but the next 12 months are a crossroads for Africa’s largest country. Last year saw a surge in violence in southern Sudan. This could escalate even further and become one of the biggest emergencies in Africa in 2010,” said co-author of the report Maya Mailer, policy adviser for Oxfam.
In 2009, some 2,500 people were killed and 350,000 fled their homes - a human toll greater than that of Sudan’s strife-torn region of Darfur last year. The rest of the world has largely overlooked this suffering, according to the agencies. Communities say that women and children have increasingly been targeted in attacks on villages, and that the government of southern Sudan and international peacekeepers have not been able to protect them.
The report says the next 12 months will see a number of potential flashpoints that, if not properly prepared for, could spark new violence. These include Sudan’s first multi-party elections in 24 years, and a referendum in which southerners will vote on whether to remain united with the north or to secede.
To safeguard civilians at this fragile juncture, the agencies urged the UN Security Council to ensure that protecting civilians becomes a core priority for the UN peacekeeping force, UNMIS. The agencies also called on the international community to help mediate between the northern and southern parties before the elections and referendum to reduce the likelihood of conflict, and to help the government in the south provide security.
The agencies also warned that growing frustration over the lack of development in southern Sudan is harming the chances for peace. Less than half the population in this part of the country has access to clean water, and maternal mortality rates are among the worst in the world. Some 80 percent of adults cannot read or write, and one in seven children dies before age five. In a region the size of France, there are fewer than 31 miles of tarmac road; during heavy rains, many areas are cut off for months at a time, making the delivery of humanitarian aid almost impossible.
“After five years of peace, southern Sudan remains one of the poorest regions on earth. People hoped the peace would bring economic benefits and development, but this has happened far too slowly and in some areas not at all. We are very worried about children, who seem to be increasingly targeted in attacks on villages. International donors and the government must urgently improve aid to these areas,” said Francisco Roque, Country Director of Save the Children in South Sudan.
A return to conflict would have devastating consequences that extend far beyond southern Sudan, the agencies said. The civil war was responsible for the deaths of 2 million people and forced around 4 million to flee their homes, many into neighboring countries. The war destabilized the entire region, fueling conflicts and suffering across central and eastern Africa.
The crisis in southern Sudan is escalating at a time when the situation in Darfur, in western Sudan, remains one of the world’s biggest humanitarian emergencies. The agencies warned that there cannot be sustainable peace in Darfur if the peace between north and south is allowed to fail.
“Sustained diplomatic engagement from the international community, including Sudan’s neighbors, is what is needed. This helped achieve what many thought was impossible and secure the peace agreement in the first place. Now engagement is needed again to ensure that all that effort does not go to waste. A return to war is by no means inevitable, but it depends on whether the world heeds the warning signs of the past year and has the political will to save the peace,” said Paul Valentin, International Director of Christian Aid.
]]>Southern Sudan is one of the least-developed regions in the world. Its poverty, combined with limited government and aid agency capacity to respond to emergencies and deliver development, exacerbates the potential for renewed conflict.
The people of southern Sudan have shown extraordinary resilience to emerge from decades of war. If they are to have hope for the future, they urgently need development and protection from violence. Sudan faces many interlocking challenges, but if the international community acts now, they are surmountable.
]]>There are places in the world where it is a simple fact of life, but Darfur isn’t one of them. Under the blazing desert sun, the fact of life is thirst, and finding clean water is anything but simple. In a region plagued by conflict and banditry, trekking to a source of water can be dangerous - matched only by the risk of drinking what you find there.
So when Oxfam Great Britain (OGB) and 15 other aid providers were expelled from Darfur in March of 2009, everyone braced for the worst. Without agencies providing engineers to ensure the flow of water to the camps, fuel to run the generators, and public health workers to supply critical materials and information, the risk of disease epidemics was very real.
But in emergencies, it is never wise to underestimate the power of communities.
In North Darfur, the community committees and leaders who had worked closely with Oxfam were able to quickly take charge of the diminishing water supply, supervising and protecting the facilities until outside help arrived.*
And the public health volunteers didn’t miss a beat. “When an epidemic happens...it will not stop,” says one. As stocks of hygiene supplies dwindled, she and others did what they still could do. “We did not stop guiding and working with our people. We never stopped raising awareness about health.”
Meanwhile, Oxfam shifted gears. As OGB exited the region, Oxfam America – one of the few international agencies permitted to remain in Darfur - prepared for a massive scale-up. Soon Oxfam was again supplying water, sanitation facilities, and hygiene programs and materials to more than 235,000 people in the camps of North Darfur and was moving quickly to expand its programs to South Darfur.
The armed conflict has taken its toll on survivors. Faces there are etched with grief, loss, and fear, and the tone of the camps is grave. But on the subject of clean water, sometimes a note of satisfaction or even happiness creeps in.
“The clean water we get is what we want for eating, for drinking, for bathing, for washing, for taking care of our children,” says a resident of Kebkabiya, where an Oxfam partner has taken charge of the water supply. “Because it’s clean water, we don’t have diseases or health problems. Isn’t it good!”
As the crisis in Darfur falls off the headlines yet stretches on with no end in sight, the Oxfam taps convey more than water; they carry a heartfelt message from the outside world: We have not forgotten you.
Donate now to the Sudan Crisis Relief and Rehabilitation Fund.
* In the interim between the exit of Oxfam Great Britain and the launch of the Oxfam America water and sanitation programs, a Sudanese government agency supported by the United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF) was able to step in temporarily to fill some of the needs, such as fuel for generators.
]]>Many women in Darfur no longer have homes. They are living in crowded camps for displaced people where the simple stoves on which they cook define their days—days filled with treks for firewood that expose them to attacks and sexual assault, with dangerous hunts for work to earn money for stove fuel, with painful decisions about selling some of the food donors give their families so they can use the cash to buy fuel to cook the rest.
All of these choices are grim. But in Darfur, where more than six years of conflict have set 2.8 million people adrift, this is the reality. And that's why Oxfam America is launching an initiative, together with the Darfur Stoves Project and an in-country organization called Sustainable Action Group, to bring a new kind of wood-burning stove into the camps, a stove designed to reduce dramatically the amount of firewood families need each day.
The initiative is the latest step in Oxfam's ongoing program to help women in Darfur find cheaper and more efficient ways to cook. The goal is not only to keep them safer by cutting the amount of time they spend searching for wood beyond the safety of the camps, but to reduce the demand for the resource which is leading to severe deforestation in some areas.
"A huge issue for Darfur is its fragile environment," says Emily Farr, Oxfam's humanitarian livelihoods specialist who is overseeing the stove project. "Firewood is becoming more and more scarce, and large tracts of land—especially around some of the camps—have lost all their trees."
Called the Berkeley-Darfur stove, this new device could go a long way toward addressing that problem.
Made from sheets of metal, the new stove incorporates ideas provided by women themselves in the camps. Its design looks deceptively simple. A small opening for the firebox prevents too much fuel from being stuffed inside. The stove has tabs that can hold a plate for baking bread. And vents have been designed to limit the amount of air rushing in on gusty days.
Many women still cook on traditional stoves: three stones lodged into the ground with a chunk of firewood or charcoal burning in the center and a pot resting on top. The Berkeley-Darfur stove is 75 percent more efficient than the traditional stove and 50 percent more efficient than the clay models some families use. The metal stoves, which cost $20 each to make, last about five years—a good deal longer than the clay versions which can collapse after just four months.
Oxfam's plan calls for the distribution of 9,120 of the new stoves. Kits with all the parts are being manufactured in India, but the stoves themselves will be assembled in Darfur—with the help of local hands. That's one of the key objectives of the program: to offer displaced people training and a chance to earn a little income. Expectations are that each worker will be able to build about six stoves a day.
In a place that gets so much sun so much of the year why not provide people with solar cookers?
"In each of the camps where we work we have to consider what suits the situation best," says Farr. "Solar stoves can't be the only kind people have because there are many foods that can't be easily cooked using the existing affordable solar technology. If people can't cook their normal foods, they won't use the stove."
Likewise, in regions where there is a reliable supply of gas, it makes sense to equip people with gas stoves because they can be a lot cheaper for a family to operate than a traditional wood stove. In camps near urban areas, families can spend between $55 and $95 a month on wood for their traditional stoves. It's their second biggest expense after food. Refilling a gas cylinder costs $18, and the gas can last between one to two months. Gas stoves are also cleaner than wood—and women appreciate not having their clothes and bodies shrouded in smoke.
Oxfam and the Sudan Action Group also provided gas stoves to some of the families in Al Salaam and Abu Shouk camps outside El Fasher, the capital of North Darfur.
"People loved the gas stoves because the fuel is cheap, it burns clean, and food cooks very quickly," says Farr. "However, there are challenges with the supply chain: gas stoves are only an option where gas is readily available, such as in more urban areas." She notes that one local entrepreneur started a business ferrying empty canisters from a camp into El Fasher where he would have them filled and then return them to the camp –for a fee of 45 cents per canister.
While the majority of people who tried the stoves could afford them, some families found the monthly cost of the gas at $18 a canister too steep.
The cost of fuel—whether it's gas or wood—and its availability are things all stove projects have to take into account. If gas is available, will people have the money to purchase it? If not, then a smart stove project will include a way for people to earn an income, says Farr.
"In a place where we're using a model that burns wood and people are collecting it, we need to integrate peace-building and protection. Even if a stove uses less wood, women still have to go out and collect it—and they need protection," says Farr.
And so does the environment, she adds. Good stove projects, like Oxfam's, include public education about the environment and steps to protect it such as asking community members to plant and nurture tree seedlings.
]]>With some champions in Congress and support from the White House, we're hoping to see domestic legislation that not only fines companies who pollute, but also uses some of these funds to help affected communities build their resilience. If we are successful domestically, we can lay the groundwork for a global deal at the UN Climate Change Conference this December—an agreement that will create a more hospitable climate for us all.
Also in this issue: A force of peace in Peru; Rebuilding in Bangladesh; Oxfam America's new role in Darfur.
]]>The agency has had to hand over its laptops and communications equipment to the government. This will adversely affect its ability to carry out its work, which was reaching some 600,000 people across Darfur, in Khartoum state and the east of the country.
Oxfam GB estimates that its supply of clean water and other programmes can continue to be run by local communities and Oxfam-trained volunteers for a number of weeks but if its appeal to the government fails then its programme will have to close.
Oxfam GB's work in Darfur is its biggest emergency program in the world. It has operated in northern Sudan since 1983 and currently has 450 staff, 90 percent of whom are Sudanese. Oxfam is an independent, impartial non-governmental organization, with absolutely no links to the International Criminal Court. Oxfam does not have an opinion on the Court's activities, and our sole focus is meeting humanitarian and development needs in Sudan.
]]>The agency said it is appealing the decision and hopes the matter can be resolved quickly. The agency urged the government of Sudan to allow it to continue its vital humanitarian efforts, which affect hundreds of thousands of lives.
Penny Lawrence, Oxfam's international director, said, "If Oxfam Great Britain’s registration is revoked, it will affect more than 600,000 Sudanese people whom we provide with vital humanitarian and development aid, including clean water and sanitation on a daily basis. 400,000 of them are affected by the ongoing conflict in Darfur, where people continue to flee from violence, and the humanitarian needs remain enormous. It will also affect another 200,000 poor people in the east of the country and Khartoum state."
Oxfam Great Britain has operated in northern Sudan since 1983 and currently has 450 staff, 90% of whom are Sudanese. Oxfam is an independent, impartial non-governmental organization, with absolutely no links to the International Criminal Court. Oxfam does not have an opinion on the Court's activities, and our sole focus is meeting humanitarian and development needs in Sudan.
]]>Known as UNAMID, and approved by the UN Security Council 18 months ago, the force today stands at less than 60 percent of its 26,000 members. It remains woefully short of basic equipment and specialized training. Only three of its expected 19 armed police units have been deployed, and the force is still waiting for the 24 rapid response helicopters it needs to monitor the vast Darfur region. The promise the UN Security Council made to the people of Darfur has not been kept. That UNAMID, one year after its deployment, is still so short of troops and equipment, is an indictment of the international community's response to the crisis in Darfur.
Many communities report feeling most afraid and at risk during the night when armed men routinely harass and intimidate civilians. Yet in most locations, UNAMID personnel are only present during the daytime. Efforts to establish a permanent presence, 24 hours a day and seven days a week, in locations such as Kalma camp in South Darfur are welcome, but they urgently need to be replicated elsewhere.
While UNAMID is seriously under-strength, it has shown that it can still have some impact with the resources it has—if it prioritizes effective protection activities. For example, women regularly face attacks and harassment when they go out to collect firewood or go to market. When UNAMID has carried out patrols to accompany them, women have reported feeling considerably safer and much less vulnerable to attack in some areas. However, these protection patrols are still not happening nearly often enough, and in many locations not at all, even in areas where UNAMID has deployed substantial troop numbers. UNAMID must prioritize such patrols, as well as patrols along main roads to secure the delivery of vital humanitarian aid to people in need.
A full strength UNAMID can make a real improvement in people's lives—if world leaders have the political will to make it succeed. The international community must ensure that UNAMID is fully deployed and supported as soon as possible.
There is still time to make UNAMID a success, but that time is running out. UNAMID itself has come under attack and 12 peacekeepers have been killed. Every day that passes with UNAMID unable to deliver the protection that civilians expect is another day that UNAMID risks further losing the support of the very people it is supposed to assist.
The international community is repeating the same mistakes it made with UNAMID's predecessor, the African Union Mission in Sudan, or AMIS. Initially, AMIS made a positive impact when it was deployed. But it was never given the troops, equipment, or support that it needed. AMIS was left demoralized, rejected by most Darfur residents, and unable to protect itself from violent attacks. UNAMID must not be allowed to suffer the same fate.
But UNAMID alone is not the solution to the Darfur conflict, no matter how large the force is. Peacekeepers cannot succeed without some sort of peace to keep, and UNAMID cannot be a substitute for sustainable peace. All parties must be pressured to immediately cease hostilities and return to the peace process.
]]>In early 2003, two rebel groups—the Sudan Liberation Army (SLA) and the Justice and Equality Movement (JEM)—both from Sudan's western region of Darfur, launched major offensives on government bases there. The rebels claimed that Darfur had suffered decades of political marginalization and economic neglect from the Sudanese government in Khartoum. Government forces responded and the fighting escalated. Arab militia, commonly known as Janjaweed and widely believed to be supported by the government, attacked villages, forcing inhabitants from their homes—particularly in those villages and among ethnic groups thought to be sympathetic to the rebels. Now, those rebel groups have splintered into numerous factions and the situation is growing increasingly complex.
Estimates of the total number of people killed vary widely. The Government of Sudan pegs the figure at 10,000, while many activists say the true amount is up to 400,000. Most reports say around 200,000. Violence is one cause of death. Many people have also died from illness and malnutrition—particularly early in the crisis. Since then, the enormous humanitarian response has stabilized conditions in the camps, but renewed insecurity is threatening this progress, and the large-scale displacement of people across Darfur is continuing. Already this year more than 200,000 people have abandoned their homes in the face of ongoing attacks.
Some of Darfur's camps for displaced people are the size of small cities—teeming with tens of thousands of people, many of them having been there so long that they have replaced their makeshift shelters with homes of mudbrick.. But unlike cities in the western world, these dense settlements have no modern conveniences. Pit latrines and water faucets are all communal. Food is cooked over open fires. At night, it's dark. There is no electricity.
Shortages of basic necessities add to the tedium of days spent with little for people to do. For many stranded in camps far from their villages, fields, and pastureland, life has become one long wait—for food rations, for limited amounts of water, for peace. Because of attacks on its convoys, the World Food Program, which helps to feed more than 3 million people in the region, cut rations in half in May and threatened again in early September to suspend some deliveries. In July,2008, about 50,000 people got no food aid at all because of ongoing insecurity. And now, there are fears that malnutrition is rising again.
But leaving the camps is not an option. Many people no longer have homes to return to: The fighting has reduced their villages to ashes. And venturing beyond the perimeter of the camps exposes people to attack. There are continual reports of women being beaten or sexually assaulted when they leave to collect wood for their cooking fires or fodder for their animals.
Almost daily attacks—including vehicles being hijacked, aid workers assaulted, offices robbed—have made it increasingly difficult for humanitarian groups to meet the needs of some of the more than four million people across the region who need help. Darfur is a dangerous, and deadly, place to work.
More than five years after the conflict first erupted, millions of people continue to live in fear without adequate protection—even after the United Nations Security Council passed a resolution more than twelve months ago approving the deployment of the largest peacekeeping force in the world. Known as UNAMID, the force is meant to have 26,000 military officers, police officers, and civilian personnel. But by September, 2008, only a little more than a third of that force is now at work in Darfur—less than 10,000 troops—and they are short of not only things like helicopters, but some of the most basic equipment, too. Troops have been painting their helmets blue—the color the United Nations uses—because there are not enough UN helmets to go around. And forces can't go out on long patrols because they don't have enough ration packs to support those missions.
The international community has failed the people of Darfur by not giving UNAMID the support it promised. Countries around the world are responsible for the delays in deploying the troops and providing for their needs. The ongoing violence—perpetrated by the Sudanese government, rebel groups, and militias—is also hampering deployment. The logistical challenge is enormous in bringing large numbers of troops and equipment from Port Sudan across 1,000 miles of rough terrain—some of it without roads. And the UN's own lengthy procedures slow the works down, too. But Sudan has agreed to the force and it?s up to the international community to work with the government to ensure the troops are deployed.
UNAMID, however, is only part of the solution. A ceasefire and a return to peace talks are also essential.
The crisis in Darfur can't be resolved in isolation from other conflicts and tension roiling the region. There is violence in Chad and the Central African Republic. The peace in South Sudan is fragile. UNAMID is not the only peacekeeping force in the region. It needs to coordinate closely with others as any change in security in this part of the world could trigger large movements of people across borders. The peacekeepers must plan together to address the safety of everyone.
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