By Phillip Walker
Anglicord, Africa Program Manager
The old man’s lament typifies comments from across the region: “I am losing everything. Before, I had 50 camels and 200 goats. Now all are gone.”
Soddonta is a small, isolated settlement on the edge of the notorious Danakil Depression in Ethiopia. Not a blade of grass or tree is in sight. A searing wind carrying volcanic ash is blowing like a gale. An occasional semi-trailer rumbles past, carrying salt from the pans to the market in Addis Ababa. Below sea level, temperatures regularly exceed 50 degrees Celsius. An area of little rainfall at the best of times, the current drought is the longest and most intense in living memory. Because it is on a road and has a water hole, Soddonta has become the place of refuge for people escaping eruptions from three volcanoes – Ra’a, Kulkuli and Basa’a – on the Ethiopian-Eritrean border.
Ash from the eruptions has settled waist-deep, poisoning water sources. Erupted rocks, the vast lava flow and the poisonous gases are killing animals and people. A local reports of an eruption that happened in the night:
“People were screaming. They were rushing everywhere. We did not know what we were doing or where we were going. We were all crazy. My life is at an end. I do not know what I will do.”
Exact numbers of deaths and affected people are unknown, as people have fled in several directions and the border between Ethiopia and Eritrea remains closed. A woman pleads, “I do not know where my husband or my other children are. My sister is somewhere else. How will we ever meet again?”
The woreda (local government) administration takes responsibility for distribution of the relief items provided by Anglicord’s partners in the Afar community, led by Australian Valerie Browning. On this occasion it is woven mats used to make daboyta (traditional Afar housing), jerry cans to carry water and soap for washing. As the Afar people obtain more funds, foodstuff and other items are provided. Val Browning has also coordinated a health assessment along with a health and hygiene education campaign.
As the distribution starts, people begin to appear, seemingly rising from the shimmering rocks, and they move towards the administration office. They squat against the office wall, seeking protection from the scorching winds. As their names are called, people move forward to collect their supplies, leaving a thumbprint on a card as evidence of receipt.
Their sense of humor or hope is not gone. Wiry young men leap lightly over the scorching rocks. The women bond tightly together and chatter. Children chase each other. When asked about moving to a permanent settlement a young man responded with a sweep of his arm to encompass the terrain: “If you take the heart away then the body will not live. This is my home and I am not leaving. It comes from my father and his father before him and his father before him, and I will hand on to my children. I know this.”
At the time of writing, more severely malnourished people were arriving in Soddonta and, once again, basic humanitarian needs were being distributed to people who in normal circumstances are fiercely self-reliant but have been overcome by events beyond their control.
Anglicord’s partners’ short term program of support covers shelter, household utensils and secured food and water for displaced people; animal treatment, supplementary animal feed; nutrition support, disease surveillance and prevention. Longer term, Val Browning says that they will assist with reconstructing dams and cisterns, goat restocking and promoting alternative ways for families to earn an income.