By Saafi Labafidhin

The following is a real story of an Ogadeni woman. She is only one of the many unfortunate women in this region and if Victor Hugo of the nineteenth century was present in the Ogaden right now he would have written dozens, perhaps hundreds of Les Miserables about them!

It is about 01:30 pm local time and it is an unusually windy day in a dusty and dry village in one of Ogadens remotest areas. The temperature seems unforgivingly higher and the sun appears to have moved closer to the earth. The dry season has persisted longer than expected but people never give up looking at the barren sky; day in day out they pray for clouds of hope, clouds of rain. People and animals, and all other living things are competing for survival. Most importantly they are competing for scarce water and shade. Under an old acacia tree, lies a woman in her late fifties on a worn out mattress. She is a woman with a miserable life but with strong faith in God and that is why her smile is full of life and she repeats Alhamdulillaah. I Thank You Allah.

Ardo used to lead a normal nomadic life in one of the remotest and driest areas in the Ogaden. She had a large family consisting of 13 children and husband. They were not rich but compared to their community they were well off for they had a large number of camel herds and about hundred and fifty shoats and the children would at normal times consume milk at least two times a day. As a mother of more than a dozen of children, she had a busy life from taking care of the children, looking after some herds, managing the economy of the household, traveling long distances to the nearest town to sell animal products and buy needed items etc. She is well known in her locality by her hard work and strong sprit that keeps her rolling like a storm. All in al,l she was the engine of her large family.

Throughout her life, Ardo had came across many sad days as she struggled to make ends meet in the troubled land of Ogaden but none was as darker as the day she woke up without being able to see things! It was typical Jiilaal day where the violent temperature could be felt early in the morning. One night, she just came back from the nearby town where she sold two of her best goats to cope with the unforgiving dry season at which time survival of human beings is the biggest objective of every pastoralist in the area. After a long and tiresome journey by foot, she fell asleep late at that night after serving food to her family who depends on her for almost everything. Apart from the fatigue she remembers she had a severe headache which resembles migrin and locally known as Dhanjaf. Imagine if you suddenly wake up without your sense of sight! She could not believe her eyes! Shocked by the incident, she tried to verify that she is awake and not dreaming. She rubbed and rubbed her eyes with her fingers, she tried to reach and touch and feel things that were surrounding her. Yes she could feel things and hear the noise of the livestock just outside her traditional house –aqal Soomaali. But still she could not SEE!!!

After all her efforts were dashed by an undeniable fact, that she became blind, it was finally time to seek help. She called the names of some of her children. Her eldest daughter was the first to arrive at her mother´s side. When she learned what happened to her mother she could not help stop crying for the whole day. Indeed this was the saddest day on earth for the whole family. Her younger brother knew that something had to be done to save his mother´s sight. The first possible and less costly thing they would try was to call someone who could heal their beloved mother traditionally, but this proved to no avail. Sooner it was obvious that Ardo had to be checked by an eye specialist doctor.

The nearest hospital in the area lies in Godey, about 450 km from their vicinity and even if they can reach there, the Hospital is the best example of the extreme underdevelopment in the region as it lacks even the most basic equipment and supplies, it has no surgical ward or surgeon. People arriving in critical need of surgery are therefore unlikely to survive. In the Hospital, there is only one doctor –himself being medical practitioner –and no eye care center. By the way there is no a single Ophthalmology center in the whole Ogaden Region (or Somali Region –whatever you call it) and those who can afford the costs travel either to Dire Dawa or to neighboring Somalia for ophthalmologic and other treatments.

After some preparations Ardo and her family decided that she should travel to Dire Dawa where she had a sister whom she could rely on when traveling for medication. So her only hope was to contact her sister so that her sister could arrange accommodation and doctor appointments. Despite droughts and poor livestock market prices, they were forced to sell the best of her shoats and some camels to get enough cash for the costly journey and treatment. Two of her children followed her to Dire Dawa. Finally it was time to meet an Ophthalmologist but unfortunately, it was too late to help Ardo!!! After a long investigation the doctor finally informed Ardo through an interpreter that nothing could be done to restore her sight because the optic nerves of both eyes were dead!!! The only thing Ardo could say was Innaa Lillaahi wa Innaa Ilayhi Raaji´uun –We belong to Allah, and to Him we return.

Though her sister promised her to care for her, Ardo decided to go back to her isolated and remote home, yes nothing like home. Since she lost her sight Ardo´s life was complicated by insecurity and vulnerability. As if this was not enough, Ardo´s tragedy was to continue as those who would help her were themselves victims of natural and man made disasters. The last time she heard about her man was when he was imprisoned with four other men for an unknown reason and since then no one knows if he is alive or not! The eldest of her boys was arrested by Puntland army in Gaalkacyo and handed him over to the Ethiopian Army in Wardheer. Also his whereabouts is unknown to her. The second boy who was attending education in Jigjiga is now mentally ill and because of this he is chained by relatives in fear of harming himself or others. The only Mental Hospital is Amanuel Hospital in Addis Ababa –more than a thousand km distance. The latest and perhaps the worst tragedy Ardo heard is that of her daughter (who was the most helpful to her) who has passed away because of pregnancy complications, like her younger sister, when she was about to give birth to her third child. Her smile and content would make you think as if she is the happiest being in this universe in spite of losing the most important things in life: her sight, her family, her wealth (livestock) etc.

This is just a summary of the story but one thing is clear: There are thousand like her in the Ogaden whose lives could have been saved by a simple clinic or health post. However, TPLF’s war against civilians, economic blockade, expulsion of NGOs, lack of Basic health and other infrastructure facilities, recurrent droughts, media black-out, etc complicate the fate of Ogadeni ordinary people like Ardo.
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The writer can be reached at labafidhin@yahoo.com