My Brief Stay in Ethiopia
Author's Note: The pictures
say it all.
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The ride to the
camp was an overnight one in a convoy of
forty trucks and five armored cars manned by soldiers holding onto the heavy
machine guns. They are ready for any eventualities but I asked myself' are we
ready for them. My name is Jordan Drew, a relief worker with the non-profit organization
looking to bring hope to some poor souls in this large continent. The people of
this place have been suffering from man-made problems to that of nature, but
the victims are all the same; it's innocent people. They suffered hunger,
illness for their stay here in this harsh country, and then come to the men with
weapons to add more to their misery. Here I am from a country where we know not
of such sufferings and now hoping to share our generosity to them but truly I
asked myself, are we prepared to face such reality.
I don't know. But
I would try to relate how it is when I reached the camp.
We arrive shortly
after the noon sun and we sighted the camp. It spread out over five miles and
it is neither rectangle nor square as more fences are put to cater for more of
the refugees coming in daily. The truck stopped outside the camp at the
Logistics Warehouse and I was the first to disembark. I stepped onto the hard
ground which has not seen rain for many days now, and the dust just enveloped
your shoes as you step on them. I looked up from new trainer shoes to the eight-foot-high
fencing which separates us from the ones we are to assist. As I stood there
looking at the faces staring at me, I can't help seeing a young boy of about
seven years of age looking at me with his blank expression. His head is covered
with a tardy-looking scarf that has probably not see water for days, but the
secreted sweat may had coated dry on it. What caught my attention was not the
dressing of the boy but the way she stared at me with his eyes. He is probably
thinking about what I looked like to him; all dressed up in this white t-shirt
and jeans, plus shades and a bottle of water in my right hand. He has probably
seen all that but maybe the clean looks of my skin may have surprised him.
I took my steps
towards him but as I was near to the wall, more of those behind the fence has
convened at where I was headed. My little friend was not seen behind the small
built-up of the people with eager expressions on their faces. I think they are
eyeing not my body but my water bottle. I reached for it, but a soldier came up
to me and tapped my shoulder. He did not speak but used his gun to motioned to
me to retreat from the line. I took his concern was I could generate a mob or a
rush which they needed last to control right now. I nodded my understanding and
retreated the line. Once again as I moved away, the earlier crowd dispersed and
I find myself seeing the same boy standing there as previously. I stared at him
and then I pointed to my water bottle with my finger. The boy was without any
expression as I keep on tapping my water bottle.
Then the warning
call came; it's a siren that signaled the attacks by the rival factions on the
refugees. The procedure was we are to hide under any covers including trucks
and bunkers. I crouched myself down and await the coming attack. It was brief
with some shells shot by cannons on our camp by the opposing faction. But the
shells fell short and all was safe for now. I crawled out and surveyed the surrounding
area which is now coated with dust and people running to get organized again. I
looked back at the fence and see my little boy still standing there not moving
at all. I smiled at him for he is a brave kid who did not even move when we all
adults ran for cover in that attack.
As I was to assist
in the carrying of supplies, the siren rang again, and this time the shells hit
our lines and around us. I crawled under the truck to sit out the shelling. It
went on for a few minutes and then it stopped. From above us, we can hear the
planes soaring past to seek the artillery pieces and reduced them to nothing. I
got out from underneath the truck and looked back for my little boy.
But he is not
there anymore. He is no more in the crowd at all, but where he stood lies a large
shell blast hole. The authorities counted twelve dead and five missings plus
another dozen injured. I could not believe it then as that was my first sight
of the many scenes I would see during my stay here. Today, I stand looking expressionless
to the new refugees as they walked into the camp from their war-torn homes. I
see them as passing images with no regard as to who and where they come from.
To me, it's not important but what I do next was to get them adjusted to the
new life behind the fence while the predators prey outside it. It's all I could
do as I hold no power to end the war.
Today, I am back
in my own country and I take long walks in the countryside. I always walked
with my water bottle filled with water to wash my face but no matter how many
times I do, I still find myself looking at the little boy behind the fence. His
sight haunts me till today.
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