Wednesday, 17 December 2014

Melijo: Tarpaulin City

Small area of Melijo IDP camp
A year ago a major political rift took place which has caused terrible bloodshed and resultant displacement in many parts of South Sudan, although thankfully not here in Nimule.  Here, we have seen large numbers of displaced people fleeing through the town on their way to refugee camps in Uganda or Internally Displaced People (IDP) Camps in our area.  The only difference between these camps is that people still in their own country are called ‘internally displaced’, while those who cross to another country are ‘refugees’.  In practical terms their situation is equally desperate.

Up until today I had not visited Melijo IDP camp.  It is not easily accessible so a lift is essential.  Every time I have been offered a lift, it has been during school teaching time.  Finally, though, it has happened.

Fulaa Lifeline, the charity which runs the children’s home, has other projects too, one of which is a project for agricultural development.  The agriculture section of Fulaa has been involved in helping the IDPs grow their own crops at their camp.  To do this they work in partnership with another charity called ChildFund Korea.

View of the track through the car window
We took a lift from ChildFund Korea.  The drive was along a narrow and very bumpy dirt track through the bush.  The track was no larger than a British bridleway.  It was very dusty as the dry season is now in full swing.  I was told that it is impassable except by jeep in the rainy season.  The drive took about 45 minutes, skirting the border with Uganda.  The camp is therefore very isolated with no easy access to Nimule.

Most people at Melijo are Dinkas from the Bor and Jonglei areas, which have been very badly hit by the bloodshed.  It is still not safe to return.  Most are women and children.

Once we arrived we went to see the Dinka chief and his elders who are in charge of the running of the camp.  The chief was pleased to see me and immediately reeled off a long list of vitally necessary things which are lacking in the hope that I would be able to help.  These included milk and other food, tarpaulins to replace the worn out ones or tents, a permanent clinic, clothes and many more things.  He also hoped I would come and teach English at their school.  All I could say was that I would try to find help, but I am only one person and could not promise anything.  Without transport I would not be able even to teach there regularly.

After our meeting, I went to look around the camp.

Someone's home and sorghum patch
Almost all buildings are made of stick frames covered in tarpaulins donated by ChildFund Korea.  As the chief had said, they are worn out after a year exposed to the elements.  The whole camp is scrupulously clean and tidy.  Each family has a homemade tent made of tarpaulins and a garden area where they grow (or try to grow) food such as sorghum, peanuts, sesame, onions and garlic. 
In the way of amenities, there are a couple of market stalls where enterprising women try to sell their pitifully small surplus produce.  There is a mobile clinic.  There are several churches. 

ChildFund has started a school which caters for about 600 children.  As it is now the holidays, the school is closed.

Sorghum drying on a rack
Before we left, the chief and the Fulaa and ChildFund representatives discussed the very poor harvest of the first crops.  This was due to late delivery of seed so that the optimum planting time was missed.  In this part of South Sudan there are two planting seasons, early January and early August.  The agricultural project delivered the first seed supply in late August, too late.  Fulaa promised that the next seed delivery will be in time for planting at the beginning of January.  They commented on how hard the women had worked for so little result.  There is also a problem with feeding the women while they are working.

In the past I have seen footage of refugee camps with desperate people grabbing at food.  It is not like that here.  Here, things are very well organised in spite of the obvious suffering.  As I walked around the camp, women came up to me, gesturing that they were hungry.  Although people are not actually starving, food is a serious issue.  In spite of obvious malnutrition, a large supply of grain sacks from the US was waiting unopened for distribution.  To me that demonstrated just how disciplined and well run the camp is.

I felt very helpless listening to all the chief’s requests.  Like most people here, he saw a white face and assumed I would be able to wave a magic wand.  If anyone has contacts in charities which could help get much needed supplies to the camp, please let me know.