When Oxfam began its work in Kalma Camp, South Darfur, and began talking to the people living there, we realised that for many people, particularly the women, illiteracy was a major concern.
As we began to find volunteers to help with our public health promotion campaign (the majority of whom are women) a number of them told us they were worried that they would not be able to do their work well if they could not write, but more than that, they wanted to learn to read and write so that in the future they might have more choices. Some simply wanted to be able to write their own names.
In November 2004 Oxfam staff found a young student teacher living in the camp who agreed to teach reading and writing to other IDPs (Internally Displaced People). And so the ‘literacy program’ was launched in a small room made of grass mats in a corner of the Oxfam compound at Kalma camp.
Every day, for 2 hours a day, 19 women from across Darfur attend sessions in the little room. The women range in age from 19 to 45; most are mothers, some of eight children, all have escaped fighting, all having lost their homes and family members. Five of the twelve women that were present the day I visited told me their husbands were brutally murdered when their villages were attacked.
The women did not hesitate to tell me about their tragic stories of escape and their journey to Kalma. Some walked great distances to Kalma camp as no other camp existed then. One woman travelled six days on foot with eight children. Her husband was shot and killed during the attack on her village. She described how she attached the smallest children onto the backs of the older children and they walked and ran fearful for their lives. Another young woman described how the rebels burned her village, forcing families out of their homes, separating the men from the rest. One of her brothers escaped and one was killed in front of her.
Today these women are learning the alphabet. Their young teacher, a student herself when she was forced from her village, volunteers her afternoons to help these women. Although there were primary schools in their communities they were unable to attend because of the demand of their families. They tell me now they have the opportunity and the will to learn.
The classroom is sparsely furnished except for colourful posters on the wall and a large white board in the centre of the room with the 26 letters of the Arabic alphabet neatly printed. The women sit on mats in a circle on the floor dressed in their colourful toabs (similar to an Indian Sari) each with their own notebook and pencil.
I asked why men did not attend. They told me men were welcome, of course, but none had yet wanted to attend. However I sensed a feeling of mutual support and camaraderie among this group, that perhaps would not be possible if men attended. I asked them how their lives might change with the ability to read and write. One woman told me that learning to read and write her own name was a powerful experience for her. Others said they intend to teach their own children, that now they will be able to read instructions, messages and posters. Collectively they believe that becoming literate may make the difference in their chances of survival. They claim that it was the villagers that could read that led them to safety. They do not want themselves or their children to be this vulnerable again.
As I got up to leave each woman proudly wrote their names on a piece of paper in Arabic and squeezed it into my hand, asking me not to forget them.
“Animals are the livelihood of many refugees and of a great deal of the local host population.”
Animals are a form of life insurance for many refugees and their host families in Chad. Oxfam are carrying out a vaccination programme to help prevent any more animals dying.
Top: Donkeys are brought for vaccination
Bottom: A vet tries to vaccinate a donkey. Photos: Carmen Rodriquez/ Oxfam
