

The war in Ukraine is causing a ripple effect that is compounding a global food crisis, further driving up food prices that were already soaring due to drought, and pushing more families to the precipice of starvation. While families like Ayan’s are fleeing direct insecurity within Somalia, they are also indirectly impacted by a conflict that is raging thousands of kilometres away. “We left our home because there was no water and our livestock had died.” She adds that Al-Shabaab, one of a number of armed non-state groups driving conflict in Somalia, made the family’s problems worse: “They were attacking us day by day and we lived in fear of them.”Īyan's husband died shortly after the family reached Dolow. “We came here as we heard we would get some help,” explains 24-year-old Ayan. Families are drawn by the relative safety and access to assistance that humanitarian organizations cannot provide in other parts of the country. At WFP we’re familiar with working in fragile contexts but the alert is a reminder of how difficult the situation is here – conflict is compounding the climate crisis in Somalia and impacting our ability to reach those most in need.ĭolow has been shaped by successive influxes of people fleeing conflict, drought or, more often, a combination of both. The day we arrive in Dolow there is a red alert, which means that United Nations workers are at an increased risk of attack or kidnapping. Up to 150 people arrive in the Kabasa camp each week after losing everything due to conflict and the drought. Things would be lean, but they’d be able to cope until the rains came again. In times of scarcity families would stockpile food, or sell off prized livestock to provide a financial buffer to purchase food and water. The patterns of rain in this part of the world mean that traditionally there are two growing seasons each year and every few years or so communities brace for, and can cope with, drought.


Even if it did, it would be too little too late. I’m visiting in what should be a rainy season, but no rain falls.
#We were here together both survive cracked#
Rivers and tributaries that should be flowing stretch out across the landscape, cracked and grey. The drought is most visible from the air. All of the women tell me that they feel safer here in Dolow but they need more help – because can’t I see that the rains have not arrived? Drought drives the threat of famine Or worse: that if they stop walking, armed men will take them all. Sparse sips of dirty water, worried that waterborne diseases will take their children if the thirst and hunger do not.

They each recount long journeys walking day and night, carrying and cajoling small children to keep them moving in search of refuge. Ambiyo, Ayan and Dahera all tell versions of the same story of hunger and years of relentless drought – dwindling resources, dying and dead livestock, no rain, no food. In the days that follow, I talk to other women. There was no water, no food for my children, no way to get money.” “We were pastoralists and had cattle and camels, but we lost all our livestock and when our final animals died that was it. “We left our home because we had nothing left – we just had drought and hunger,” says Mido. The family receive food to boost Fatun's nutrition and to help her to gain weight. On arrival in Dolow, Fatun is checked for malnutrition by WFP staff.
