Sudanese Take Refuge Under Chad’s Trees

Mohammed Azene lies stretched out under a thorn tree in the Chad desert. His last belongings are the mat he sleeps on and a plastic pitcher suspended from a branch so that he can do his ablutions before prayers.

About 15,000 Sudanese, chased from their homes in a systematic campaign of terror, have found shelter under the trees that surround this desert border town. But the brittle branches offer little protection against the searing sun and frequent sandstorms.

For more than 16 months, Arab militias known as janjaweed, backed by helicopter gunships, have razed the villages of their black African farming neighbors in response to a rebellion in Sudan’s western Darfur region. About 30,000 people have been killed and more than 1 million driven from their homes in coordinated attacks that human rights groups say amount to ethnic cleansing.

“The janjaweed burn our homes, steal our cattle and kill anyone whose skin is black,” Azene said. “We lost everything.... Those of us who weren’t killed on the spot just ran.”

Azene escaped with his three sons and a daughter. His wife was visiting another daughter at the time of the attack, and he has had no word of their fate.

The family walked eight days through the desert to reach Chad, where about 200,000 Sudanese have found refuge. Along the way, the few goats they were able to salvage collapsed from hunger and thirst.

Hundreds of animal carcasses were burned on huge smoking pyres after the refugees started arriving in large numbers in January.

The first international aid group followed in February, and the first food distribution took place March 21. In the meantime, residents pooled their resources to provide the refugees a little millet, salt, soap, clothes and blankets.

But the only available shelter was soon overwhelmed by the tide of refugees who now outnumber the more than 10,000 residents.

On the edge of town, as far as the eye can see, refugees are huddled under trees. Their few belongings -- mats, pots, clothes and bundles of straw for their animals -- hang from the branches.

“It is hot in the day and cold at night,” said Aziza Bakhit, balancing her 2-year-old daughter on her hip. “When the wind blows, you can’t even tell men and women apart because of the sand.”

Nearby, a few skinny goats and donkeys nose in the sand in a futile search for food. The nearest fields are a five- to six-day journey through the desert and back.

Lack of water is one of the biggest problems. The few wells are almost dry, and refugees spend hours scraping the last puddles from the bottom of the gaping pits.

The U.N. refugee agency is now trucking water to the refugees. At 6 a.m., women start setting jerry cans by the side of the road -- little more than a few tire tracks through the sand -- to be sure not to miss out when the water truck arrives in the afternoon.

To make ends meet, women collect bundles of straw and sell them at the market. They are lucky if they earn a dollar a week.

Long-simmering tensions between nomadic Arab herders and their farming neighbors exploded into violence when two black African rebel groups took up arms against the Sudanese government in February 2003 over what they consider unfair treatment in their struggle for land and water resources in Darfur.

The rebel groups and refugees accuse the Sudanese government of backing the mostly Arab janjaweed militias. The government denies the charge and has pledged troops to disarm the janjaweed -- which means “horsemen” in the local dialect.

But for all the hardships, it will take a lot more than promises to convince the refugees in Chad to return home.

“Even under a tree, it is better here than in Sudan,” Azene said. “We are safe here.”