KENYA: In the scorching heat of north-western Kenya, fear and worry grip the expansive Kakuma evacuee campground, where approximately 300,000 exiled people are now living on a fraction of their past food provisions. According to a recent BBC report, scrawny children lie immobile in infirmary beds, suffering from extreme critical malnutrition, as the United Nations World Food Programme (WFP) cautions a “slowly starving population.”
At Amusait Hospital, emaciated bodies indicate the marks of starvation. One baby, Hellen, lies immobile with flaking, red skin, her ailment a direct consequence of insufficient nourishment. In an adjacent area, nine-month-old James, the youngest of eight children, grips to life as his mother Agnes Awila begs, “The food is not enough. My children eat only once a day. If there’s no food, what do you feed them?”
From three meals to one; families on the brink
The WFP has dropped provisions to just 30% of the least suggested consumption after the U.S., once its major benefactor, reduced support, citing President Donald Trump’s “America First” overseas aid program. The cascading impacts have been distressing.
Mothers like Mukuniwa Bililo Mami, a diabetic evacuee from the Democratic Republic of Congo, now struggle to make a single monthly share last two months. Once able to complement her nourishment and income through UN-issued cash transfers, she now depends on lentil plant and rice. “We used to eat three times a day. Now, I don’t know how long this will last,” she says.
The removal of the “bamba chakula” cash package, which infused $4 million per month into refugee families, has strangled local markets. Sellers like Badaba Ibrahim, a dealer from Sudan’s Nuba Mountains, can no longer provide credit. “Customers come and camp outside my shop all day. They tell me their children haven’t eaten in 24 hours,” he said with desperation.
Hunger shadows the future as aid dries up
In improvised accommodations made of grooved metal, families like Agnes Livio’s wait until mid-afternoon for their first meal of the day. “We used to get porridge in the morning, but not anymore,” says the South Sudanese mother of five.
At Amusait Hospital, children who have extra nourishment are being sent back into communities where food is precariously infrequent. With a tiny chance of a new subsidy before August, charitable organisation representatives are anxious about a disastrous food emergency.
Felix Okech, WFP’s head of evacuee actions in Kenya, warns, “If this continues, we are talking about starvation at scale. Even with some potential support, we are still facing a 70% shortfall.”
– Advertisement –
Without direct and significant donor interference, Kakuma’s inhabitants face an ugly future, one where famine, not war, could become the most lethal menace of all.
– Advertisement –
