Food Crisis in Ethiopia

The picturesque green that characterises the landscape in Kembata, southern Ethiopia, betrays the reality of the situation for its inhabitants. People in this populous part of Sodo Hosanna diocese are feeling the effects of the Ethiopian food crisis acutely, not just because of failed rains and soaring inflation, but because they farm very small plots of land, which rarely produce enough for all the family.

Whilst recent rains in this area have been good, those who planted for the next harvest cannot expect a crop for another two months. It is no small irony that as their produce grows, so does their hunger.

Maize, which is the staple food here, costs more than three times as much as it did this time last year. Mersha Tesfaye is coordinating the diocesan emergency response.

“This situation is the worst I have seen”, he says. “Prices are skyrocketing. Because of the inflation, people are even more vulnerable and the budget for our response has to rise as prices rise. It is very emotional for us, especially when we see how children in particular are affected.”

Scores of people are leaving Kembata to try and find a better life elsewhere. Mario Sembato has returned to collect his family. Unconsciously fingering the calluses on his hands, he talks about the two hectares of land the government has awarded him in the neighbouring Kefasheka zone.

For some, the traditional coping mechanisms resorted to in times of shortage are proving less useful than before.
The Taza Health Centre run by the Maids of the Poor congregation, hosts a therapeutic feeding centre in Sodo Hosanna diocese. Shamate Shiraj, is here with her five-year-old son, Ayano. When he was admitted 14 days ago he was very swollen, a sign of malnutrition, specifically a lack of protein.

Shamate has seven other children. When her stock of grain ran out earlier in the year she tried to make ends meet by collecting and selling wood but many others, affected by the food shortages, are doing the same.

“My husband died recently and so we are finding it very difficult”, she explains. “Now the price of wood has dropped and it is hard to afford what we need.”

Most children admitted to the therapeutic feeding centre are accompanied by their mothers. Lamboro Lamore and his son Denabo stand out as the only father and son pair. Lamboro helps the staff feed Denabo a mixture of calorific ‘plumpy nut’ and therapeutic feeding milk every four hours.

He says: “Before bringing Denabo to the centre we tried to give him the little food we had, but he had already become so weak that he was not eating, or even drinking. I knew if I didn’t bring him here he would die.”

Lamboro’s distress is clear: “I only have one tenth of a hectare of land, so even when it is productive, it doesn’t bring enough for my family to survive on until next harvest, but last year my maize didn’t grow because it was so dry. I have been offering my labour to make extra money, but because everyone is struggling it is hard to find extra work.”

Sister Celine who runs Taza Health Centre has been working with the community here for 17 years. When Denabo arrived he was skeletal.

“We had no hope he would survive”, she says. “As well as being very severely malnourished he had pneumonia. Along with the therapeutic feeding, we treated him with routine antibiotics, but he was still not improving.”
The turning point came when staff at the centre decided to treat Denabo for TB. Now he is beginning to recover, and although he is still very underweight, he has gradually regained seven kilos. If his progress continues he will be discharged in ten days.
Sister Celine is delighted. “He is a completely new person”, she says. “We are very happy that he survived.”

But she knows it will be difficult for Denabo to continue improving at home as food shortages and inflation are so severe.

“He will come back here every 15 days for a medical check-up and to receive a food ration”, she adds.