Friday, May 16, 2014
This morning we drove out of Djibouti City, the capital of this small country in the Horn of Africa. We joined a huge convoy of trucks heading south towards the Ethiopian capital Addis Ababa.
The trucks are so heavily loaded they hardly move along the steep, winding road through the barren countryside.
The containers are full of goods for the Ethiopian market. Many of the goods that people buy in the stores in Addis will have found their way into Africa through Djibouti.
The city’s port is the lifeblood of this country, providing its biggest source of income and employment. Without the trade that the port brings, it’s hard to imagine how this country would survive.
With a population of around 800,000, Djibouti doesn’t face the challenges of a burgeoning population that confronts many African countries.
Yet for many Djiboutians, life is incredibly hard. Around 30 per cent of people still live in the countryside. How they survive is a mystery to me.
Life without rain
Looking out of the vehicle as we wind our way through the hills, it seems that only the numerous goats and camels could thrive in this environment. In fact, only 0.04 per cent of the country is suitable for agriculture.
Most of the country is desert or mountains. Amina Farah, who is accompanying me on my journey, tells me that there have been few periods of prolonged rainfall in Djibouti City in the last ten years.
Amina works for the Djibouti Red Crescent and has seen first-hand how many people struggle to survive in this country.
Children play on an open football field in the middle of Balbala, Djibouti City – ©IFRC/KatherineBundraRoux
People’s livelihoods in rural areas have traditionally been based on rearing small herds of goats and sheep, selling their milk and meat to survive. But this life is increasingly difficult.
Apart from a few fruits and vegetables, nothing is grown here in Djibouti. The trucks that pass us on our journey travelling in the opposite direction are returning from Ethiopia with the food that keeps this country fed.
Pasta, Djiboutians will tell you, is the national dish, probably made in a Chinese owned factory in Addis. The ubiquitous pylons that shadow our route carry the power generated in Ethiopia that keeps the lights on in Djibouti City.
Many people in rural areas have had enough of the struggle just to survive. As in so many other African countries, they are abandoning their villages and moving to the city.
The lights in the city may be powered by imported electricity, but they still provide a glow that seems to offer an escape from the hardship of the village. Sadly, in most cases migrants to the city only exchange one form of hardship for another.
Supplying water and barrels
Yesterday we visited the township of Balabala on the outskirts of Djibouti City. This area is home to many of those who have come from rural areas.
The slums of Balabala, Djibouti City, where many pastoralists migrate in search of a better life – ©IFRC/Katherine Bundra Roux
Most people are living in shacks made of anything they can get their hands on; cardboard, cloth, plastic sheeting and whatever else they can find.
Water here is a bigger problem for many than it was back in their villages. The only source is a government tanker that comes once a week to supply everyone.
To get the water, you need somewhere to store it. If you only have a few small buckets, that will be your water supply until the tanker comes again.
Yesterday was an important day for the township. The Djibouti Red Crescent was distributing plastic barrels and other water storage equipment to the most vulnerable people.
The British Red Cross funded the support to this very vulnerable community. Those receiving the equipment were selected by the community themselves.
Water barrels being distributed by the Djibouti Red Crescent – ©BritishRedCross
As always during these events, the scene appeared chaotic with lots of shouting and whistle blowing, and inquisitive children getting in the way of everything.
But eventually the barrels were all given to those selected, the crowd dispersed and the dust settled. Hopefully now some very poor people will at least have one less challenge in their unbelievably difficult lives.
Overcoming isolation and loneliness
Today we’re visiting the town of Ali Sabieh, about 50 miles from Djibouti City. The local Djibouti Red Crescent branch welcomed us and we travelled together to the Ali Addeh refugee camp.
The camp is home to around 16,000 refugees mainly from Somalia, but also from Eritrea and Ethiopia. Some of the residents have been here for more than 20 years.
Many organisations are working in the camp, providing people with the necessities of life such as food, water and health care. I’ve visited many refugee camps and I’m always amazed by people just trying to get on with their lives.
People here are hundreds of miles from home, living in what seems to me to be a desolate place, yet they still try to live a normal life. You’re surrounded by people, yet it must be lonely, cut-off from many family members and friends.
Much of Djibouti is desert or mountains – ©IFRC/Charlie Musoka
The Djibouti Red Crescent is trying to help people overcome this isolation and loneliness. Through the restoring family links programme supported by the International Committee of the Red Cross, they provide a mobile phone service to the refugees to help them contact their families.
One of the dedicated volunteers shows me the list of people who have used the service. “Today we’ve helped someone from the camp speak to their family in America. Another person spoke to family members in Sweden.”
What a difference this must make. Sweden and the Ali Sabieh camp seem worlds apart. But these volunteers have made them seem a little bit closer and for some people here, that makes a world of difference.
Paul Jenkins is head of partnership development at the British Red Cross. The blog post was written while on a visit to Djibouti at the start of May.