Scattered Seeds

Chapter Six

Six o'clock came all too early. The sun was up, and so was the mercury in the thermometer tacked on the office wall.

As Sy informed Louise that the team would assist with processing new arrivals, stating it would be a good starting point for them.

At the far outskirts of the camp multiple large, open tents housed lengths of tables. Sealed tubs marked World Food Program were stacked several high just past the initial registration stations. Small areas, quartered off by blue-sheeted partitions, allowed for private medical examinations.

The gates were opened, and uniformed police slowly permitted the waiting refugees to trickle in.

"Here we go," Tom announced, puffing out a deep breath. He was brimming with nervous energy.

Jess looked up at him and could not resist a smile. Tom's excitement was obvious. His eyes sparkled as he awaited the approaching women who just completed their paperwork. He seemed so ready, so willing to help.

Jess unsealed the nearest tub and removed some of the pre-packaged rations, handing a few to Tom.

The women stood in front of them and Tom reached out to give them their food, but was halted by a hand on his arm.

"Karatasi yako tafadhali," a very tall, very dark local volunteer addressed the women, holding an open palm out to them.

Tom was confused, and wondered if he'd done something wrong.

"He wants to see their papers," Jess explained, patting his shoulder in assurance.

"Wait, you understand Swahili?" he asked her with an incredulous expression.

Jess smirked, and after the volunteer approved the first refugee she handed the woman her food. "I'm learning," was all she replied.

They spent the better part of the morning distributing rations. A typical meal consisted of one hundred-forty grams of wheat, twenty grams of beans or peas, twelve grams of oil, thirteen grams of soya blend or maize, and two grams of iodized salt, providing a mere seven hundred ninety-six calories.

Each family member received enough for two meals per day, and each new household was given an initial two weeks' worth of rations.

Considering their already malnourished conditions, fifteen hundred ninety-two calories per day wasn't exactly filling, but it was far more than what the sojourners were used to.

It was difficult to watch the new arrivals shuffle though the lines, especially the children. Hollow, sunken faces perched atop emaciated, skeletal frames continuously passed in front of Tom and Jess.

They stared back at the Westerners with dim eyes, haunted by the tragedy and hardship they experienced over the course of their great exodus. More often than not, it was groups of women, their little ones in tow, who made it through.

Jess noticed the apparent lack of adult males and questioned As Sy, who came to check on them.

"Somali men are a shortage here," he explained. "Most are either killed in the conflict back home, or stay behind to attempt salvaging their small farms. They send their families ahead, promising they will come after them when things get better." As Sy shook his head and went quiet for a moment. "Sadly enough, for one reason or another most never reunite."

Tom imagined saying good-bye to his wife and children; sending them off to trek some three hundred miles on foot over a route riddled with danger, never knowing if he would see them again. How these people managed to press on after losing so much astounded him.

He quietly observed Jess as they worked. Despite their circumstances, she greeted each person with a friendly smile and spoke the few Swahili phrases she knew. Many offered shy smiles in return, or spoke what Tom believed to be thanks.