Conclusion (Part 8 of 8)

Conclusion

By: John Jefferson

 

In summary, after arriving in Melut on Tuesday the 4th at 3:30 PM, by Thursday morning I was on the cusp of boarding a boat loaded with 150 100kg bags of Sorghum after spending all of Wednesday in meetings, changing money, and praying for one miracle after another. By Thursday afternoon, we had watched the tax man fight with the boat man for almost two hours, unloaders carry scores of bags onto the boat, thousands of S. Sudan Pounds pass through my nervous hands, and the sun move across the horizon burning relentlessly as the day sped along. By 3PM that same day, we were gliding along the Nile. The last 24 hours (from Thursday to Friday evening) in Kodok were a mix of intolerable waiting periods, informative meetings and interviews, and grateful moments with the brave and resilient people of Nuba Mountains.

The efforts of not a few organizations mentioned in the body of this email all contributed to the success of the mission, which was indeed successful. The churches, nonprofits, NGOs, and GOs represented all played a part either directly or indirectly, both knowingly and sometimes unknowingly.

At the Camp (Part 7 of 8)

At the Camp

By John Jefferson

At the Camp, continued…..

An interesting thing about finding the MSF tent in the refugee camp was that Dr. Kelley had to work with them to gain access to the IDP camps where he was doing the clinics. Dr. Marta Cazole, who is running the MSF operation in Melut, became a key contact for me upon my return from Kodok. She "happened" to come by our compound the morning we were leaving, and I showed her my pictures of the people at the camp and the empty tent. I told her about our mission and she conferred with Dr. K. She was glad to know it was still possible to get to the camp, and more than a bit interested in the contacts who helped me to get there, which I freely shared along with a plea for MSF to return to the refugee camp ASAP. 

Access to the Plumpynut was all due to one member of the team, a missionary with the Bible Translators. He had a contact with UNMISS in Doro, so when our AIM flight stopped there for refueling, there were several boxes waiting for us. They had run out in Nairobi, so this improbable way of getting the precious stuff was again another example of how God's plan was way beyond our ability. He was orchestrating this thing, and we were along for the ride. “Sobeit,” I said to myself.

I had a chance to meet with the King of the K-N area of the Nuba mountains. While very approachable, he did not speak English with me, although I got the feeling he could have.  He became the key contact inside the camp, and I caught some good interview footage of him and some of his people in the precious few minutes I there. The people in the camp were at first were getting help from the locals, but then the conflict in RoSS broke out and as IDPs (about 5K or more) flooded into Kodok, that support dried up along with NGOs that fled. Who knows what's happening with WFP. Tarps were the only evidence the UN had been there. Purportedly, the UN tried to get the Kao-Nyaro people to consent to getting barged four hours down the river to Malakal, then driven around the bottom of South Kordofan to Unity State, eventually reaching Yida Camp.  This location would put them well out of striking distance of their homes and families, which they were unwilling to do.  Thus, the UN and WFP aid dried up.  Bottom line, the women said they had been reduced to eating grass and roots for some time, and thus very happy this food arrived.

Arrival. (Part 6 of 8)

Arrival

By: John Jefferson

Arriving at the Camp

More vehicles were leaving Kodok loaded with people than were waiting around to be hired to take grain from the docks.  In fact, we were the only ones looking for such a service.  Thus, it was not easy to hire a lorry.  In addition, we had to get loaders from the market while meeting with various officials.  Part of the time pressure was the fact that our only option to get back to Melut was to meet the team doing clinic in Rom, a short ride across the river and 45-minute walk, or so we thought.

As we approached the camp, a patchwork makeshift Tukuls with tarps and grass rooftops appeared, flanked by fields of dry grass on one side and dense vegetation of the Nile’s edge on the other. The only "modern" structure was a large, white MSF (Doctors Without Borders) tent that stood empty save a few boxes of Plumpynut with nothing in them. We filled those boxes with 600 packets (4 boxes worth) of the nutritive paste. The only medicine available was the bottle of deworming pills Dr. Kelley gave me, which contained about 200 doses. A small crowd gathered after we pulled the truck up and started unloading the sorghum.  There are just over 3,000 people in the refugee camp. Through interviews, I ascertained that they have not had basic foodstuffs for a period of time and had been forced to revert to foraging for food in the fields. 

One incident broke my heart. While some of the kids ran away from the camera, a young boy rolled up in his little faded green smock and looked at me with the sweetest face as I noticed his puss filled eyes. He just looked up at me as I touched his head, and then he rubbed his left eye as a white substance oozed out of it. I immediately took a picture for Dr. K. (and later showed it to the MSF doctor also) I then put my hand on his back and prayed for his healing. Sometimes the kids in that situation look at the camera like it may give them some relief. That's even more heartbreaking. I hate feeling that helpless when it really matters. I prayed again all the more fervently. Later the doc told me a few days of some relatively inexpensive drops would cure the malady. One more thing on the list to return with God willing.