Sudan: "My house will be half full"

When we arrived in Alagaya camp in Sudan, the children started to fall sick. They had measles. The baby was the first to get a fever and after one week, the three-year-old and later the nine-year-old. They died.   

I had to bury my three children far from home. Far from anyone they knew. Far from where we were going.   

As I continued my journey to South Sudan, I arrived at Renk, where I discovered that my eight-year-old son and my five-year-old daughter were malnourished. The change in food, the long journey, and the grief have been arduous for me and my family. I have lost three children, and the other two are fighting for their lives.  

Every day at the hospital, I find the strength to look after them. I cook what I can with the other mothers who also have their children at the hospital. We sit under a tree. The other children play; they climb trees, and I can't wait for my children to be among them. Many families here struggle for food and water. Hardly anyone has a proper shelter.  

As soon as my children feel better, my husband will join us and we will continue our journey, maybe to Malakal. I will try to contact my extended family in South Sudan, but I am uncertain of the future. We would need a lot of courage and help to survive during the coming difficult days to start a new life in South Sudan.   

My house will still be half full.     

Your fellow human being, 

Marta Kaliba