east africa

I go through cycles of avidly following as much news as possible and becoming weary and worn down by all the violence and sadness in the world. I often feel disgusted at how short an attention span the collective "we" seem to have and how the media exploits our basest instincts to their advantage.

Casey Anthony. Lady Gaga. The Dougherty Gang. Amin Hassan.

Wait, who is Amin Hassan? Amin Hassan is a Somali mother living in the Dadaab Refugee Camp and she recently buried her 1 month old daughter, Addison, in a grave she dug herself. She is one 30,000 Somali parents who have buried one or more of their children this summer alone. And potentially 600,000 more children in East Africa may die before the year is out.

Let's stop for a moment and think about those numbers. 600,000 children dying in the next three months. We all live in different places but if you picture the 600,000 people living closest to your home all disappearing in three months, I'd say we'd all have a very desolate few miles around us. Or imagine that only the 600,000 children closest to your home are gone. No kids on playgrounds, at the pools, riding bikes, enjoying playdates, going to school. Just silence and cold emptiness left behind for their families to live with.

It absolutely tears me in two to read the stories coming out of camps there. Of children dying long, slow, extremely painful deaths from starvation. Parents having to watch them slowly wither away until they are listless, barely alive ... little more than breathing skeletons.

At 12 months old Asa is around 22 pounds and is rather slender for his age. There are 4 and 5 year olds in the refugee camps who weigh just 15 pounds. Think about that. Imagine if it were your baby and there was nothing you could to help him. You'd already walked a 100 miles in terrific heat, been robbed by bandits of any possessions you had, and arrived at the one place you knew could help only to find they are stretched way beyond their limit and reinforcements aren't going to arrive quickly enough to save your children. It's terrifying, isn't it ...

I don't mean for this to be a lecture. It's more of a reminder about why it is so important that we do not allow ourselves to avert our eyes from these headlines, and that we make sure the media doesn't cave in to the next Casey Anthony drama and dictate to us when the story is over. The story of famine in Africa is over when children are no longer starving to death, when their parents and siblings are well nourished, vaccinated, and able to return home to rebuild their lives in a safe and secure setting. We cannot allow latitude and longitude to dictate our compassion or empathy.