Famine in the Horn of Africa

Famine in the Horn of Africa

 

The Agency of the UNO for the Feeding and the Agriculture (FAO), alert of which it is necessary to act already to be able to save lives in the Horn of Africa.

In the Horn of Africa one lives what the UNO has defined as «a human tragedy of unimaginable proportions». Approximately 12,4 million persons in Somalia, Djibouti, Ethiopia and Kenya and million more in other nearby countries have its threatened lives. On one hand the famine, for other one the humanitarian emergency.

The famine of the Horn of Africa is fattening with the population of less age. The infantile malnutrition remains like the main problem in the refugees' camps, according to alert the Commissioned High place of the United Nations for the Refugees (Acnur). A report of this agency of the UNO on the camps of Dollo Ado, to the southeast of Ethiopia, throws a distressing fact: more than 100.000 minors already take as a hearth the shops and the sand of this refugee camp.

Acnur makes sure that the famine has received in Somalia the life of 29.000 children from itself in the last three months and she calculates, in fact, that “of the thousands of deaths that have taken place in Somalia between April and ends of July the half they belong to children younger than 5 years“, as the agency details.

Magazine Atticus is a publication that devotes itself to the arts liberal and like that we have doing it during more than two years. Perhaps some persons think that it is not opportune to bring to this space a small critique on the famine in Africa. But all of all that we make this publication possible we are conscious and very sensitive to everything all that is happening in this part of the world that it us is not so distant. While we look for ourselves at the bellybutton (as well there says Atticus, the dear personage of the people Kill a nightingale) a little further down he is dying of famine in the full XXIst century, when it is demonstrated that there is enough food for all but scarce wills.

Next we reproduce what Atticus ordered us and that is published, in the paragraph It Photodenounces, in our number 15 and that is already available for its discharge.

Inequality

 

To refugee use twigs and scraps of material to build to shelter for her family. There is not room for most new arrivals in the Dadaab camps, so the thousands of people who arrive every week must carve out to place for themselves in the surrounding desert. Paula Nelson.

I have said my children that it is not possible to judge a person until one does not wear its shoes.

This comes to story because I cannot judge those who have a lot of money. I have never put on its fortune shoes. Recently there have become public the goods of our leaders and our politicians. I do not want to begin to value where they put to good collection its money, its contemptible at all patrimony. I do not want to begin to value the fact that one of them, for putting an example, declares 18 housings in property, some other parking squares and I do not know how many vehicles. But this produces one big unease to me. I cannot understand that a few thousands of kilometers further down of these houses there are the people who does not have not for shoes. They drag its feet for the dusty ground fleeing of its country, fleeing of the war, fleeing of the famine.

These people, thousands of persons, it are dying every day, because it does not have anything that to take to the mouth, much less do not even have a hearth to shelter.

How long so much make unequal! It is not me who to judge what each one does with its money, and where he invests it so that it is not devaluated, not between in losses. I would like wearing the shoes of the rich ones to see as the south is seen. With mine I feel uncomfortable. Sometimes they press me when I walk on my checking account. And others, the feet rub me when I meet paying a superfluous article.

The photo that here I bring belongs to a family of which with four branches and many garbage they try to create a hearth. While, we the neighbors of above, scarcely we have time to look for us at our insurance and to spend and to invest our rich money in other values. Unjust what the world is!

 

To young Somali refugee boy and his terminally ill mother, Haretha Abdi at Dadaab refugee camp, near the border of Kenya and Somalia in the horn of Africa. (Brendan Bannon/Polaris Images).

 

I feel it small

 

 

However much I look at you do not salt the words for me. I cannot help you with my pen. Sorry. I feel unable to write four phrases to try that the world wakes up. Somewhere here it arrives only we live thinking that the society of the well-being is going to take the crisis to us. You will understand my dear child, that the words do not go out for me for so many worry. And if tomorrow we meet like you? Notice what disaster!

I feel it dear child, cannot write because the only thing that goes out for me sharp remarks are. Excuse me because I know that it is difficult until you understand my words. I know that only it worries where you are going to find something to take to the mouth you. I feel it dear child. I do not know how to help you. Excuse us for allowing you to die of famine.

Atticus


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Famine in the Horn of Africa | Magazine Atticus

Famine in the Horn of Africa

Famine in the Horn of Africa

 

The Agency of the UNO for the Feeding and the Agriculture (FAO), alert of which it is necessary to act already to be able to save lives in the Horn of Africa.

In the Horn of Africa one lives what the UNO has defined as «a human tragedy of unimaginable proportions». Approximately 12,4 million persons in Somalia, Djibouti, Ethiopia and Kenya and million more in other nearby countries have its threatened lives. On one hand the famine, for other one the humanitarian emergency.

The famine of the Horn of Africa is fattening with the population of less age. The infantile malnutrition remains like the main problem in the refugees' camps, according to alert the Commissioned High place of the United Nations for the Refugees (Acnur). A report of this agency of the UNO on the camps of Dollo Ado, to the southeast of Ethiopia, throws a distressing fact: more than 100.000 minors already take as a hearth the shops and the sand of this refugee camp.

Acnur makes sure that the famine has received in Somalia the life of 29.000 children from itself in the last three months and she calculates, in fact, that “of the thousands of deaths that have taken place in Somalia between April and ends of July the half they belong to children younger than 5 years“, as the agency details.

Magazine Atticus is a publication that devotes itself to the arts liberal and like that we have doing it during more than two years. Perhaps some persons think that it is not opportune to bring to this space a small critique on the famine in Africa. But all of all that we make this publication possible we are conscious and very sensitive to everything all that is happening in this part of the world that it us is not so distant. While we look for ourselves at the bellybutton (as well there says Atticus, the dear personage of the people Kill a nightingale) a little further down he is dying of famine in the full XXIst century, when it is demonstrated that there is enough food for all but scarce wills.

Next we reproduce what Atticus ordered us and that is published, in the paragraph It Photodenounces, in our number 15 and that is already available for its discharge.

Inequality

 

To refugee use twigs and scraps of material to build to shelter for her family. There is not room for most new arrivals in the Dadaab camps, so the thousands of people who arrive every week must carve out to place for themselves in the surrounding desert. Paula Nelson.

I have said my children that it is not possible to judge a person until one does not wear its shoes.

This comes to story because I cannot judge those who have a lot of money. I have never put on its fortune shoes. Recently there have become public the goods of our leaders and our politicians. I do not want to begin to value where they put to good collection its money, its contemptible at all patrimony. I do not want to begin to value the fact that one of them, for putting an example, declares 18 housings in property, some other parking squares and I do not know how many vehicles. But this produces one big unease to me. I cannot understand that a few thousands of kilometers further down of these houses there are the people who does not have not for shoes. They drag its feet for the dusty ground fleeing of its country, fleeing of the war, fleeing of the famine.

These people, thousands of persons, it are dying every day, because it does not have anything that to take to the mouth, much less do not even have a hearth to shelter.

How long so much make unequal! It is not me who to judge what each one does with its money, and where he invests it so that it is not devaluated, not between in losses. I would like wearing the shoes of the rich ones to see as the south is seen. With mine I feel uncomfortable. Sometimes they press me when I walk on my checking account. And others, the feet rub me when I meet paying a superfluous article.

The photo that here I bring belongs to a family of which with four branches and many garbage they try to create a hearth. While, we the neighbors of above, scarcely we have time to look for us at our insurance and to spend and to invest our rich money in other values. Unjust what the world is!

 

To young Somali refugee boy and his terminally ill mother, Haretha Abdi at Dadaab refugee camp, near the border of Kenya and Somalia in the horn of Africa. (Brendan Bannon/Polaris Images).

 

I feel it small

 

 

However much I look at you do not salt the words for me. I cannot help you with my pen. Sorry. I feel unable to write four phrases to try that the world wakes up. Somewhere here it arrives only we live thinking that the society of the well-being is going to take the crisis to us. You will understand my dear child, that the words do not go out for me for so many worry. And if tomorrow we meet like you? Notice what disaster!

I feel it dear child, cannot write because the only thing that goes out for me sharp remarks are. Excuse me because I know that it is difficult until you understand my words. I know that only it worries where you are going to find something to take to the mouth you. I feel it dear child. I do not know how to help you. Excuse us for allowing you to die of famine.

Atticus


Bookmark

Filed file: General

Did he like this article? Subscribe to my RSS feed and to obtain more discharges!

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