A peace agreement is not always an automatic signal to an end of suffering. Refugees who have fled their homes to live in foreign countries often return to an unknown future: Will their houses still be standing? Will their families be united? What will they have to do to rebuild their lives?
Neil Joyce, M.D., a veteran relief worker with International Medical Corps, witnessed firsthand the mixture of apprehension and joy that Eritrean refugees brought as they crossed the border from Sudan, where they had fled during Eritrea’s war with Ethiopia. Joyce led International Medical Corps’ Eritrean medical team this past summer. The following are his impressions of post-conflict Eritrea:
Perhaps you’ve gotten my reports describing our efforts to get up and running, but they don’t tell the situation completely. I understand Eritrea is not mentioned much in the international news. This seems strange to those of us working here because the scale of the disaster is so big and the suffering so acute.
The repatriation of the Eritreans who had taken refuge in neighboring Sudan began a few days ago. There were more than 80,000 Eritreans who fled the fighting and had been living in camps in Sudan. The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees brokered an agreement between Eritrea and Sudan to permit these refugees to return to Eritrea. International Medical Corps was appointed to provide health care to those in the convoys.
It was another hot day. A small building marked the border. Nearby, a vendor sold cups of tea. We were there; International Medical Corps doctors, nurses, and equipment packed into the escort vehicles waiting for the convoys to arrive. There were perhaps 20 of us, but where was the international fanfare to witness the homecoming? We waited and drank tea.
I sat next to a young man. He said his mother might be a refugee and that he had not seen or heard from her in two years. He hoped someone among the returning refugees might give him some news of her.
After a while, we heard a rumble and saw the trucks coming down the road. The lead truck had a big banner, “Welcome Home,” and came to a stop at the border. The International Medical Corps staff immediately went to work helping returnees who were dehydrated. Many appeared malnourished. An older man collapsed and was treated by our team doctor.
Then the convoy started on to Tessenei, 20 kilometers away. The International Medical Corps’ escort vehicles followed behind. It started somberly, but as we came closer to town we saw people coming out of their homes and lining the road. Someone started honking and pretty soon all the trucks and cars were honking and flashing their lights. The people standing along the road cheered and clapped. Those in the trucks waved and looked amazed. Some were crying. They had been living in miserable tents in a foreign country, not knowing what had happened to their farms, houses and the lives they once had. Now they were seeing their old neighbors and friends. From this moment, they could start again with their lives. It was a very powerful scene. The refugees were coming home.
Of course, our job is hardly over in Eritrea.
International Medical Corps is working in the Gash-Barka zone. We start each day with a four-hour drive from Asmara, which is in the highlands, and wind our way through the rugged mountains. We pass terraced hillside farms and small fields, but this year, a lot of the fields aren’t planted. Many of the men are in the army rather than working their land. Those who remain work hard: Old men, women and children plow behind oxen and plant what they can in the hope that the rains will come this year.
Three years of drought throughout the Horn of Africa have caused terrible problems. Not only is there not enough food, but also the failed agricultural economy has further impoverished the people and the country. The war only compounded this misery.
Our drive ends at Akordet. It’s right out of an Indiana Jones movie, with camel trains in the street led by nomadic shepherds, donkey carts, women covered by veils and men in traditional white kaftans. The Gash-Barka is lowland, and it is hot. Here the effects of the war are very obvious. Almost none of the fields have been planted and irrigation systems established in the 10 years of Eritrean independence have mostly been destroyed. During the fighting, hospitals and clinics were all looted and vandalized, banks and schools were burned and people were forced from their homes.
Approximately 80% of the population has been displaced, which is more than one million people. Some of these people are in camps, miserable spots in the desert densely packed with tents pitched on the dirt. Four or five families live in each tent. There are nine of these camps for internally displaced refugees in Gash Barka. Many thousands more internal refugees are in temporary settlements or crammed into the villages.
International Medical Corps runs mobile clinics to provide curative care, immunizations and prenatal care to people in camps as well as those living on the outskirts of the towns and villages. International Medical Corps is working with local health caregivers to educate the public on hygiene, sanitation, nutrition and especially malaria prevention. And we are collaborating with the government to create a curriculum and training methods for their health care workers. Local nurses, midwives and doctors are learning new methods for immunization and safe birthing, and they are taking these lessons out to the rural areas of Eritrea where people live beyond the reach of the traditional health system. As Eritrea gets back on its feet, there will remain sustainable improvements in their system.
Eritrea may not be as well known as Kosovo, but the people’s needs here are the same. It seems suffering during a crisis, and the joy at coming home when it ends, is the same the world over.
Sincerely,
Neil Joyce, MD