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Kenya: Camps overflow as post-election violence worsens
By Micah McCoy/ACT International
From the remote areas of the Rift Valley to the slums of urban Nairobi, scores of impromptu camps have sprung up. Some of those in the camps are only stopping over for a night on their way to stay with friends and relatives in other areas. However, the vast majority of the men, women and children camped in churches, police stations and municipal show grounds have nowhere else to go, no one else to turn to and no definite future.
Nakuru
Nakuru, a large industrial town 157 km (just less than a hundred miles) northwest of Nairobi, houses one of the largest and busiest internally displaced person (IDP) camps. The expansive Nakuru Show Grounds hosts 4,000 people any given day. Here the relief effort is well organized and bustling. Local volunteers constantly come and go bringing food and supplies. Most of the displaced families here are only passing through on the way to somewhere else. There are, however, at least 2,000 people who have no place else to go.
Jane came from Burnt Forest seeking peace. Photo: Micah McCoy, CWS/ACT
Jane Kingora, one of those seeking refuge at the show grounds, tells of her experience. “I have run away from Burnt Forest (a town in the North Rift Valley) in order to seek peace. A group of people came and burnt my house. Some I knew, others I didn’t. "The ones I knew were my own neighbors. They burnt several houses.
One house they put a grandmother in the house and burnt it. They burnt her while she was still alive. She is now dead.”
Gesturing around at the crowded stadium where the masses of people have set up temporary shelter amongst the piles of mattresses, blankets and odd pieces of furniture salvaged from their homes, Jane says, “I came here four days ago. I am here with my children and grandchildren, but my husband is still out there somewhere. I’ve been trying to call him but I can’t get through. I am so bitter because I was born there (in Burnt Forest). Now it is not possible to return home. I have so many problems I don’t know where to start or what to expect. I’m wondering what to do next because I was born there, married there, I had kids, grandchildren. My son, he got married there, so I’m wondering what I should do. I can’t get employed. I’m too old.”
Molo
Following the highway an hour’s drive north from Nakuru is another IDP camp located on the grounds of three adjacent churches in Molo town. Molo, more isolated than Nakuru, doesn’t enjoy the constant flow of supplies and volunteers that help sustain the camp at the show grounds. Here the sounds and smells of human suffering assault the senses. Babies crying, children squealing, the smells of campfire smoke and raw sewage in the air, faces tired and expressionless are all echoes of the trauma of violence and displacement.
Displaced persons at one of three IDP camps in Molo. Photo: Micah McCoy, CWS/ACT
The Molo camp is home to over 4,000 displaced persons, the majority of whom are women and children. Most of the people in this camp have nowhere else to go. Left behind, nothing but ashes. Ahead, nothing but uncertainty.
Here, the Kenya Red Cross has been able to supply the camps with some of the bare necessities: potable water, subsistence food and a small medical clinic. Other bare essentials are simply unavailable. The camps are seriously overcrowded and receive more IDPs every day as the violence continues to spiral out of control. There is only one latrine for every thousand people, greatly increasing the risk of contamination and disease in the camp. Firewood and fuel for cooking is in such short supply that occupants are forced to tear down and burn the perimeter fencing of the church grounds. While food supplies are adequate, they do not meet the special nutritional requirements of those who are HIV-positive, the many nursing and pregnant mothers and children.
The nights are cold for the majority of those staying in Molo. Limited space has led the camp administrators to only allow the mothers with infants to sleep indoors or in tents. The rest of the people must sleep outside, often without blankets, at the mercy of the elements. Cases of pneumonia, especially among children and the elderly, are on the rise due to the lack of blankets and shelter. Inadequate gender-appropriate facilities put women and children at a higher level of risk for sexual abuse.
Mathare
While not as remote as Molo, Nairobi has its share of problems.
Violence has become endemic in its volatile and sprawling slum areas. Mathare, Nairobi’s second largest slum, has been one of the hardest hit areas in the chaos following the December elections. As the presidential results were announced, Mathare exploded in violence and flames. Gangs of armed youth rampaged through the area, burning entire neighborhoods and brutally attacking anyone who was perceived to be of a different political affiliation. The thousands left homeless sought refuge at a nearby army base and various churches throughout the area. Soul Winning Church, one of the churches serving as a makeshift home for the displaced, is where Ruth Wanjiku and Ann Nthenya have taken shelter after their homes were destroyed.
“We lived in a village that was just burned,” says Ruth, “People were throwing stones so we tried to defend ourselves and our homes. But the group surrounded us and began to burn houses. We tried to put out the fire, but all the while we were being stoned, so we decided to stop fighting and salvage what we could. We ran to the Presbyterian Church, but there was a group that followed and threatened us so we decided to leave and go to Soul Winning Church. There we took turns keeping watch. There is a shortage of space and food and the only ones allowed to stay indoors are the ones with babies. We basically have nothing. At some point we’ll have to go, but we have no place to go. We have no money to rent another house. It is a very bad experience. I was born in this village. It is all I know. Now, I, my mother and my thirteen siblings have no place to go.”
Ann, nodding in agreement, says, “My experience is similar, but I’m all by myself. My cousin died December 15th and she has been in the mortuary ever since. We have no money to retrieve her body. She left behind a baby that I take care of now.”
One of the emergency supplies, cooking oil, being distributed. Photo: Stephen H. Padre, ACT
Over a thousand men, women and children huddle in this cramped island of relative safety. Despite the camp’s ethnic and political mixture, all the occupants here are at peace because they are in the same situation. They share the same overcrowded church compound the same overused latrines, and they sleep outside on the same hard ground. Even in this climate of sadness and loss, Ruth shows an encouraging spirit of resilience and reconciliation.
“All different tribes are here but we get along just fine. We have been very good neighbors. It was the devil who took hold of the people who burned our houses. These same people were our neighbors. We will forgive; we will go on with our lives. The only time I was really angry was the day our houses were burned." |
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