Children and old people the real victims of conflict

By Jeckonia Otieno

Yasmin Oscar carries a tray of sardines — commonly known as omena — within the Tarasaa Primary School compound. On the tray are transparent polythene sachets of the delicacy each going for Sh5.

In the field beyond are tents where close to 300 people displaced by the clashes that have claimed more than 100 lives in the Tana Delta are residing.

Yasmin occasionally engages in play with the other children but never once forgets that the fish business is her lifeline and she has to account for every sachet sold.

She tells us that her mother has gone back to her home area in Golbanti to get charcoal which they will use at the camp.

She is in Standard One at Golbanti Primary School and when she talks to The Standard, the girl is oblivious of the kind of calamity facing her and her family. The second-born in a family of five has just sold two sachets of omena since morning.

The people at the camp do not have money to buy from her and even if they were to buy, they would eat them raw as no other food is available here.

Despite the children around Yasmin being jovial, one girl, aged about four does not play.

She is withdrawn and refuses to play. Around the school compound, men sit hurdled in groups while women discuss in hushed tones as they wait for their date with fate.

An atmosphere of fear hangs heavily among the adults that they even fear to speak.

Trauma for life

This fear trickles down to the children. Hellen Njoroge, a counsellor, says children affected by conflict need urgent counselling otherwise trauma might follow them the rest of their lives.

Of great concern to these internally displaced people seeking shelter at the school is lack of food. While adults can ignore the pangs of hunger, children cry for food.

One man says in exasperation, “We have heard people saying that we get relief food, where is it?” He reveals that a major humanitarian organisation has been coming to register them but no relief food has been forthcoming.

Not far from the school is Ngao, a township that usually bubbles with life but now looks like a ghost town with only handful of people.

Most of the remnant population is composed of mainly  women. Men are said to have fled from the onslaught of the police which has been combing the Tana Delta to mop up illegal weapons. One shop is open but there are no customers.

Naomi Osi, 60, is seated in a hut that looks like crumbling any minute. Beside her is 70-year-old Emily Thola who has come to visit her. Both women come out to speak to us but Osi is terribly shaking that she cannot even speak properly. She says that the last meal she took was a cup of porridge  the previous day.

Laments Osi: “My children are out there hiding and there is no one to bring me food so we are just here waiting for fate to take its course.”

Thola says her husband is critically ill and in need of urgent medical attention but even Ngao District Hospital is closed.

The village was supplied with medicine the previous day but they wonder how they can take medicine without food.

Not far from Osi’s hut is a group of women who are seated sullenly. Among them is Prisca Daniel whose husband has gone away to hide with the other men. Prisca is seven months pregnant and is helpless if anything happens to them and she needs to run.

Has she had any food? “If porridge and sukuma wiki is proper food, then I have eaten,” she responds, bitterly.

Nearby is Margaret Jillo, a Form Three student at Ngao Secondary School. She is now taking care of her siblings after losing her mother in the slaughter.

“They slit my expectant mother’s womb killing her and now we are surviving waiting for the worst that life has to offer,” she states as tears drench her face.