I was forced to abandon my wife and son in the bush

I could feel the sweat trickling down my neck.  It was 8 am in the morning and the scorching sun of Northern Kenya was high above me; the heat wave seeping energy from every living thing in sight. For those unaware of the Kenyan sun, it almost feels like it is mid-day.

Standing almost forgotten in this remote part of the world is the world’s biggest refugee camp, Daadab, home to hundreds and thousands of refugees fleeing the hostile environments of what they once knew as home.

I do not have words to describe the sights I witnessed while walking through the three camps that make up Daadab. I lack the words that can describe the cruelty of life here. I have to admit that my eyes welled with emotion at the sight of emaciated men, women and children who after walking hundreds of Kilometers through the harshest of terrain, arrived in Daadab. Only to join a long queue of exiles, seated or half asleep under the scorching sun because they are too weak to stand, waiting to be admitted as ‘refugees’.

The long walk to promised Land

Only the strong live to tell their tales. 35 year old Adeka Ibrahim, trekked 450 Kilometers from Somalia to Daadab.  He’s neither hungry nor tired. The pain and guilt of abandoning his dying wife and son, rather than bear the burden of carrying them in this long and tiresome journey, exceeds the pangs of hunger and the weariness of the journey.

With tears rolling down his cheeks, weak and traumatized, Adeka narrated his ordeal to us at the Medicins Sans Frontieres (MSF) Hospital in Dagahaley, where his sons were being treated. They had barely survived.

After carrying his wife and three children for hundreds of kilometers, Adeka had begun to feel exhausted, soon enough the exhaustion became intolerable.

"They got weak. I could not carry them. We slowed down and the rest of the people left us behind", He said,wiping tears from his eyes.

With no one to help him, he found himself left with the only two options: dying of exhaustion together with his wife and children, or leaving his weak wife and son in the bush and carrying on the journey with his two sons. He chose the latter.

On arrival at the camp, and with the horror of having abandoned his wife and son in the bush still tormenting him, he struggled to get his children to the hospital.

"We survived with the help of people we met on the way", says 23 year old Abdi Mohammed who fled Somali leaving his ill parents back home.

"They were too sick to walk", his eyes welling with tears and guilt as he speaks about his parents.

"I don't know whether they are still alive", Abdi continues.

The stories of these people were immensely saddening. Even though I am not a parent, but the thought of watching my children, spouse, parents or neighbors wilting away, knowing that they are dying, and there’s absolutely nothing I can do to help.

As we left the camp, I ask Abdi whether he plans to go back home one day or if he will spend the rest of his life in Daadab. With his eyes filled with uncertainty, he tells me that he would rather die in the refugee camp than go back home to Somalia.

At least, here we get constant supply of food rations, medical attention and above all, this place is peaceful

, Abdi informs me as he bids us farewell.