MagnusAndCheryl

Armed Convoy To A Refugee Camp: An African Aid Case Study
Thursday, July 5, 2007

The north of Uganda has been trapped in a vicious civil war for two decades. The Lord's Resistance Army rebels are fighting to form a society that strictly observes the 10 commandments. In an irony apparently un-noted by the LRA command, their mechanism to bring about this utopia is to terrorize villagers, burn houses, rape women and kidnap children. Abducted kids are taken as sex slaves or indoctrinated as child soldiers. These traumatized youngsters are often responsible for the most brutal killings, creating a terrible cycle of violence.

As a result, over 1 million people are displaced, unable to tend their fields or stay in their villages at night for fear of attack. They rely on international aid to survive, which is sad since Uganda is a tremendously fertile country.

We were on edge as we travelled north to Gulu, having read reports of rebel attacks on this road. We felt better after meeting the head of the World Food Programme on our bus - it couldn't be totally stupid to travel if he was there.

Arriving in Gulu, the first things we noticed were the ubiquitous white aid agency Landrovers. Dozens of NGOs and aid organizations have swamped Gulu, in response to the humanitarian crisis.

During our travels we have come across situations where aid seems to cause more problems than it solves. Communities can become dependent on the aid they receive, if they are not forced to develop solutions using their own resources. In the course of interviews with representatives of the Red Cross, Norwegian Refugee Council (NRC) and World Food Programme, we learned that Gulu is a case study for both sides of this debate. The displaced people desperately need food in order to avoid starvation, yet the aid programmes have to ensure that they are able to move back home once peace returns to avoid creating permanent refugees.

We were lucky to be invited to accompany the NRC to a camp the following day. Arriving at the convoy departure point the next morning, a senior official popped in, welcome us aboard and asked to see our security clearance from the Regional District Commissioner. Of course, we had no idea this was required! With the convoy leaving in 30 minutes we were sunk, and the only safe way to reach the camp was under the protection of the heavy army detachment accompanying the convoy.

Hoping for the best, we leaped aboard a motorbike, flew across town to the Regional District Commissioner's office (more depressingly dilapidated bombed out concrete prison than plush bureaucrat's headquarters) and raced inside. Our hearts fell further when the secretary informed us he was out and "should be back in 30 minutes". We had spent enough time in Africa to know this probably meant a few hours later, if today at all. With nowhere else to go, we sat glumly in the dark office, counting down the minutes.

20 minutes later we started as an army officer marched in, brandishing a fearsome machine gun. After he signaled an all clear, a gigantic, rotund African, wearing colourful traditional African pajamas, cruised through the ante-chamber, briefly casting a haughty glance in our direction before disappearing into a back room.

In African tradition, a man's size indicates his wealth and status. We could tell that this guy must be VERY important!

We sat in gloomy silence, bar the Chinese water torture of a ticking clock. After a few minutes, the secretary appeared with a form for us to describe our petition to the commissioner.

Then another wait.

Suddenly the secretary appeared and ushered us into a large office, filled with plush furnishings. Far in the distance, across a thick maroon carpet, was the commissioner, stationed behind a huge desk.

"Take a seat", he intoned. Confusingly, there were a couple of ways to meet this command: either opt for the small plastic chair right beside his desk, or head to a monstrous sofa stretching out across the back wall of the room, long enough to sit an entire football team. The sofa seemed the safer bet. However, it was so far from the commissioner's desk we had to shout to be heard.

The whole scenario seemed more like an audience with the Pope than a simple bureaucratic transaction. Hopes were not high as we made our case. We were dumbfounded when, with no attempt to extort money or even seem to care in any way, he gave us permission to travel with the convoy. It gave the impression that we were rather like annoying little birds that had landed on a big hippo's head, momentarily disturbing his rather enjoyable morning nap!

Racing recklessly back on boda bikes, we caught the World Food Programme convoy just as it assembled on the edge of town, military escort in place, and headed north, towards Sudan.

Reaching the camp we immediately noticed how orderly things were. People lived in mud houses (not the typical refugee relief tents) and the food distribution was expertly organized. Many of these camps have been in place for 15 years or more - plenty of time to perfect the system.

We helped unload the sacks of food and observed the incredible operation of distributing a month's food supply to over 15,000 people. A distressing sight was kids with distended tummies scrabbling about on the ground for the scraps of corn that had fallen from split bags. Since young children are often a low priority for refugee families, malnutrition can be a big problem.

Today, peace talks between the Ugandan government and the LRA are underway. If they are successful, next will come the hard task of helping people to go back home. After living with constant insecurity for years, many refugees are concerned about returning home to their villages. If they do go back, they may find their homes burned, water holes spoiled, no medical and education services available for miles around and farms needing both much time and care before they are productive again. The restructuring effort to create conditions for a successful exodus of one million people from the aid camps will be a Herculean task, requiring international funding and commitment for decades. There is no quick fix for this type of problem.

On the road back to Gulu we had much to think about: not least the fact that the military detachment had completely vanished - clearly the food was worth guarding, but as for us? - we were on our own!

Conclusion: During this trip we have seen how aid can sometimes cause more problems than it solves. Here in Gulu we experienced the problem first hand: thousands of people here are totally dependent on foreign food aid in order to survive. However, without that aid, many would simply starve to death. They are people just like us, only poorer and living in the wrong place at the wrong time. There is something inhuman in saying starving people should just be left to fend for themselves, even if providing aid creates hard problems in terms of avoiding the creation of a dependency culture.

The aid agencies we met were very aware of these problems. Ultimately, however, the world community needs to do better at preventing the civil conflicts that cause these types of humanitarian catastrophes in the first place.

But getting the world to work together to that goal is no easy task in itself!

Check our Latest Adventures section below for pictures and stories from Malawi & Western Tanzania or Rwanda or Uganda.

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