Families struggle daily in Acehnese refugee camps

Families struggle daily in Acehnese refugee camps

By Ati Nurbaiti

PIDIE, Aceh (JP): At 6 a.m. a baby girl was born to 20-year-
old Ernawati from a refugee center housing 2,500 Acehnese. She
was rushed to a makeshift maternity ward at the local community
center but would have to leave hours later if the center ran out
of beds.

The same center, now occupied by residents from three villages
on the border of Pidie and North Aceh, is already home to two-
week-old twins. "I am relieved now that I have given birth," said
Eli Juariyah, 24, of her fifth and sixth children.

She looked strong while suckling Juminah, a girl, after
dressing Bismi, a boy. But her milk was drying up, she said, and
subsidized milk for pregnant mothers had run out. Across from her
cramped quarters a one-month-old baby shares a makeshift tent
with his family.

"The sound of babies crying and coughing at night is
saddening," said Imawan, a student volunteer. "We have repeatedly
asked the authorities for a medical post here, to no avail. At
least the inhabitants would feel better with medical workers
among them."

Help is almost nonexistent, contributions come from
individuals. Nony, a volunteer, was happy when she heard of a
contribution large enough to buy 100 bunches of bananas for the
infants, as well as some biscuits. Many infants have been treated
for fever and diarrhea.

It is not certain when the situation will improve.

A refugee shelter on the border of Pidie and North Aceh in
Samalanga district is one with a slightly happier atmosphere
among about 12 centers housing hordes of people in cramped
settings.

At this shelter on the grounds of a school, laughter and
shouts are still heard as men play badminton, boys climb trees
and girls play elastics.

Women cook vegetables on small stoves -- a luxury compared to
other centers. They are given access to a stove and can provide
additional side dishes for their families because they have been
here for almost two months.

"As a rule, all refugees must get equal treatment," says
Farida Haryani of the Yadesa community development foundation who
is checking on refugees here.

Everyone only gets rice and salted fish every day in the
beginning. Sometimes other things are available.

"My son had begun to throw the rice around and cried, saying
we should go home," says Nuraini, one of at least 54,000 refugees
in Pidie.

"This is a school building, what are we doing here?" she said,
quoting her four year old.

The family had joined some 1,000 neighbors fleeing Krueng
Meuseugop village when Crack Riot Troops (PPRM) entered the area
without warning. Paddy fields with newly planted rice, peanuts
and other crops were left behind.

Similar to stories in other shelters, people who went back to
their villages to check on how things were found the crops had
been eaten by cows, houses had been broken into and valuables
were gone. Their vacated villages were guarded by soldiers. "Who
else would have taken our belongings?" asks another woman.

No one knows when they can return. With the new school year
entering the second week their children's education is being
disrupted.

A sense of regular life is provided by student volunteers who
give afternoon Koran reading classes to children at the shelters.
Inhabitants continue to prayer five times a day, washing
themselves first at the few available facilities. In the exodus,
among the few essentials women grabbed was their prayer attire.
At mosques, women wearing their prayer attire do not look like
they have come from the multitude of make-shift tents exposed to
the wind and rain.

At the shelter in Samalanga, men give way to women and
children and sleep outside at night.

But in other places -- the worst being on the grounds of Daud
Beurueh Mosque in Sigli housing some 20,000 people -- babies and
the elderly join their families at night in the open.

"Those who came earlier will not give up their places," says a
village chief, Abenon. The luckier ones have taken up all the
space on the second and lower floors of the local pesantren
(boarding school).

Men and women were seen preparing a safer bed to sleep on --
they arranged mounds of sand, a contribution, on the earth and
covered it with thin plastic sheeting to prevent damp seeping
through.

People take turns cooking and lining up at the public
kitchens. A virtual feast was in sight on Thursday as some rich
neighbors had contributed cows in the Maulid commemoration of the
anniversary of Prophet Muhammad's birth.

Less than 10 medical staff were on hand, working in shifts,
for the 20,000 people. They wait at the health facility for
anyone coming to report ailments.

By morning, two more people -- a 60-year-old man and an 18-
year-old woman -- had died, meaning 10 refugees had died while 15
had been born, including twins, according to latest records in
Pidie. The young woman, Nurmala, had respiratory problems before
she entered the shelter, a medical staffer said.

Even if residents have relatives living in safe places,
"refugees have set rules that they are all in one boat, and they
will stick together", Farida said. This makes matters worse
regarding space and volunteers expect more refugees to arrive.

In a shelter in Bandar Baru district, the only two toilets
have been sealed shut "because they can't take anymore", a
volunteer, Erlina, said and inhabitants were resorting to
relieving themselves in "floating toilets" on the nearby river.

This is where 1,075 refugees not only swarm the space in and
outside the pesantren building, but whole families are also found
under rumah panggung (houses on stilts).

A baby was born here on Thursday. The mother, Zuhab, was taken
to the local community health center but was transported back
hours later. "There were already other women among refugees
waiting in line to give birth," Cut Pusri Ulha, another
volunteer, said.

Zuhab, 30, and her newborn, her fourth child, were taken to a
neighbor's home where she lay on a mat, still bleeding. Slightly
older infants and their mothers are provided a corner in the
pesantren building.

Here, a man showing signs of stress has been sent to a
psychiatric hospital in Banda Aceh, the capital. "He was going to
jump from the window and was shouting that he would kill
everyone," Cut Pusri said.

The villages were holding feasts during their Maulid
celebrations when the troops came. "Who can guarantee our safety
when we return?" a man asked. Worms were found in the scattered
rice when a few ventured back days later.

Residents say they can only return if the government withdraws
the military, especially the PPRM comprising soldiers and police.
Otherwise, "other troops could come in from the north or
anywhere", Abenon said.

Meanwhile the military has said residents are fleeing
harassment and intimidation by Free Aceh rebels. But refugees who
say they do not know who the rebels are have said they fled the
PPRM, now infamously known as Pasukan Penyebab Rakyat Mengungsi
(Troops Causing People to Flee).