For millions of Muslims, the holy month of Ramadan is a time to reflect on the good and bad events of the year gone by and an opportunity to think about others less fortunate than ourselves.
When I was a child, my parents used to tell me to view fasting during Ramadan as a privilege - I have the luxury of being able to choose when and what to eat. I was taught that during this time I should pause and think about those less fortunate than myself, and that I should try to help these people in any way I can, whether by dedicating time and energy, or by giving zakat (tithe). Today, I recall my parents' words and their mild instruction on solidarity and moral duty for all of us.
Last week, just before Ramadan, I witnessed for myself the suffering of fellow Muslims much less fortunate than me. I had the opportunity of going to the town of Waajid in South Central Somalia. I also went to the refugee camp in Dadaab in northeastern Kenya to which over 210,000 Somalis have fled. What I saw is a real humanitarian crisis for Somalis.
I went to an old hospital in Waajid where displaced persons, who had fled the fighting in Mogadishu, had spontaneously settled. The hospital itself has been unused for almost 20 years and is unable to serve the local population for anything but shelter. There I saw women, children and the elderly in a malnourished state, living in very precarious conditions.
In the local market of Waajid, which is the central market for over 150,000 people, there was barely enough food to fill a medium-sized street market in Nairobi. The little food that was available was extremely expensive - one egg costs around 5,000 Somali Shillings (20 US cents) - a five-fold increase since the beginning of the year.
Blazing sun
In Dadaab camp in Kenya I saw some of the newly arrived refugees who had managed to cross the border, some still with injuries from the fighting in Somalia. These people had walked hundreds of miles to reach and cross the border to Kenya and relative safety. Once on the other side, they would seek protection from the blazing sun under the thorny bushes that are the only vegetation in the dusty border landscape.
The triple effects of drought, violence and soaring food prices are making it impossible for the Somalis to cope - almost 18 years since the crisis began, they are now stretched to the limit. This has been amply documented in the most recent authoritative assessment from the UN's Food Security Analysis Unit for Somalia, which paints a grim picture of the food insecurity currently afflicting the country. The experts say it is one of the worst humanitarian situations they have seen in Somalia in the last 17 years. The number of people in urgent need of food and other humanitarian assistance is now a staggering 3.2 million. This is an increase of 77 per cent since the beginning of the year and represents roughly 43 per cent of the total population of Somalia today.
Nevertheless, I was encouraged to have seen the hard work that the United Nations and NGOs are doing in delivering humanitarian assistance in the most difficult of circumstances, in all parts of Somalia. The humanitarians are there to address the human suffering despite the security risks which range from threats to killings and abductions.
I feel compelled to add my voice to the silent cry of millions of Somalis, and to appeal to the international community, not least the Muslim countries in the region and elsewhere, to remember the urgent need for food, drinking water, shelter and protection for millions of Somalis, especially now, during Ramadan.
I would encourage fellow Muslims to take time during the remaining days of Ramadan to learn more about the plight of our Somali brothers and sisters and take it upon themselves, both morally and ethically, to assist Somalis in any way possible.
Abdulaziz Bin Mohammad Arrukban is the Special Humanitarian Envoy to United Nations Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon.
