The numbers are staggering. At the end of 2006, the United Nations was assisting nearly 10 million refugees and 13 million “internally displaced persons,” people who had fled from conflicts to another part of their country. The common thread is a sense of uncertainty and dependence, particularly when people are forced to live in camps. Camps are never intended to be permanent. Yet, all too often, people remain trapped in limbo as conflicts drag on and once-thriving communities disintegrate. Generations of children are born and raised in camps. Meanwhile, the world forgets.
Displaced people strive to get an education, earn a living and raise their families. But their options are skewed by their confinement. Consider:
Nearly 40,000 people between the ages of 12 and 26 live in the Dadaab camps in Kenya. After completing school, there are limited possibilities. A tiny few obtain scholarships to attend foreign universities. Others find work with aid agencies in the camps as teachers, mechanics, shopkeepers or office clerks. But many young people have no way to study beyond high school or to earn a living.
In crisis settings like Darfur, attention and resources go toward immediate survival needs, like food, water and medical care; so social and psychological services are often unmet. A December 2006 report found that more than 70 percent of children in Darfur are not in school. Children need schooling not only to continue their development, but to provide a sense of stability and routine. Education can also promote conflict resolution and peace.
Camps usually offer little natural protection from the sun or rain; they lack water and fuel sources. This presents at least three problems: people generally can’t provide for themselves so they are dependent on aid, the influx takes an environmental toll and occupants must leave the safety of camps for necessities like firewood, which means that women suffer assault and rape with alarming frequency. There are some solutions. Agencies can provide camp residents with fuel-efficient stoves and solar cookers, and they can distribute food that requires less cooking. They can limit the size of camps, ensure adequate sanitation facilities and try to minimize environmental impacts when planning sites. Residents can be trained to provide services, like tailoring, shoe repair, basket-weaving and making crutches and wheelchairs. But these are temporary measures. In order for people to go home, which they desperately want to do, the international community must and can do more.
To end long-running conflicts, like those in Uganda and the eastern part of the Democratic Republic of Congo, the United States and other high-profile world powers must remain engaged. A consistent demonstration of interest, including visits by policymakers, strong public statements and commitment to a peace process can have a significant impact, as evidenced by the Sudan peace accord of 2005.
While peace agreements are being brokered, donors must plan to invest in the people who will be returning home. This means allocating money to rebuild roads, water sources, schools and health systems and to promote economic opportunities and security. Afghanistan offers tragic evidence of what happens when donors don’t deliver. An October 2007 poll revealed that Afghans’ greatest concern is growing insecurity. They cite development issues, such as electricity, unemployment, water, education and roads, as their biggest local problems.
Women must be involved in peace and reconciliation initiatives. In northern Uganda, for example, women have played a key role in helping reintegrate those who were abducted by combatants during the war. Nearly 80 percent of refugees are women and children. As women often bear the brunt of conflict, they are key to helping restore peace and rebuild lives. People are amazingly resourceful. When faced with limited options, they find a way to create some semblance of normalcy and community. But a camp is not a home.
