Thousands will die if rains do not materialise

The eastern Somali region of Ethiopia reappeared on western maps last week after a long period out of view. An area once known mainly to nomads and their cattle saw an influx of western aid agencies, church leaders and one of the United Nations' most senior directors.

Journalists battled to get on planes into a barren, hostile region most Ethiopians would not visit if they were paid to. A scrum of TV cameras followed the UN World Food Programme director, Catherine Bertini, around the town of Gode, where she saw emaciated babies and their mothers in makeshift feeding centres.

Ms Bertini refused to label the situation a "famine" but warned it will become one by this summer unless the international community acts now. But to avoid a famine such as the one that shocked the world in 1984, aid agencies must navigate a logistical nightmare, overcome security headaches and work with a government that is spending an estimated $1 million a day on a war with Eritrea.

For now, the situation is bad but not catastrophic. The failure of seasonal rains for the fourth successive year has turned the water from wells to salt, killed off 90 per cent of cattle and driven thousands of people towards the towns in search of food and water. Even the camels - the hardiest of desert animals - are starting to die.

Gode has become the centre of attention because it is the hardest-hit region that is accessible to aid workers and journalists. It makes for strong pictures - desiccated animal carcasses littering the desert and harrowing scenes of malnourished children in feeding centres.

But aid workers fear that thousands more are suffering just as badly in areas prone to bandit attacks that have never been visited. UN staff are forbidden from staying overnight in most parts of eastern Ethiopia since a senior aid worker was kidnapped last year. Two years previously another two WFP workers were shot dead.

There is little doubt that the current crisis will degenerate into a full-scale catastrophe in the coming months if seasonal rains fail to materialise. It is a situation that looks increasingly likely. Ms Bertini warned at a news conference in the capital, Addis Ababa, yesterday that the current requirement for 800,000 tons of food could rise to as much as a million tons before the summer.

"We need food for these people today, but we need much more for those that are yet to be affected," she said.

Other regions to the west and north are just one step behind. Concern is setting up a feeding programme in the densely-populated Walita area. "This is a window of opportunity for us to intervene now and avert a major emergency like we are seeing in Gode," said assistant country director Nuala O'Brien.

This pre-emptive approach to famine disaster is a new one for the international community, following the famine of 1984 in which one million people died. Then, horrific television images of skeletal starving babies prompted an unprecedented aid scramble personified by Bob Geldof and his pop star fundraiser, Band Aid. This time around, the West does not want to make the same mistake again.

But while comparisons with 1984 push the right emotional buttons in the West, there are significant differences between the two situations.

In 1984 the Ethiopian government tried to hide and ignore the problem until it was too late for many. Now it actively co-operates with international aid agencies and mobilises international assistance. Last week the foreign minister, Seyoum Mesfin, accused the world of waiting to see "pictures of skeletons" before responding to his country's cry for help.

"We are working closely to share information now. That just didn't exist in 1984," said WFP country director Judith Lewis.

The government has established 300 feeding points through its own humanitarian arm and a food reserve provided an early buffer to the drought, although it says this has been almost entirely depleted in the last two months.

Nevertheless the one common thread between the two crises is war. Ethiopia was at war in 1984 and it is again at war, this time with neighbouring Eritrea, which is estimated to cost the government $1 million every day.

The conflict has hindered the delivery of food shipments to landlocked Ethiopia. While in the past the United Nations routed 75 per cent of its supplies through the Eritrean port of Assab, now it must use the smaller ports of Djibouti and Berbera.

Ethiopia is unwilling to compromise in its prosecution of the war, even in the current crisis. An offer by Eritrea to use Assab for landing food aid was rejected out of hand by the Ethiopians as a "public relations gimmick". They claimed that in the past Eritrea had stolen food shipped through the port.

Ms Bertini said yesterday that if the crisis escalates as expected, the infrastructure at Djibouti and Berbera will not be sufficient to meet food needs. A request to the Ethiopian Prime Minister, Meles Zenawi, earlier in the week that he moderate his position on Assab was refused outright.

The war with Eritrea has also affected the longer-term ability of Ethiopia to manage cyclical drought. While international donations are now flooding in, donors are more cautious about reaching into their pockets for long-term development projects.

"Donors are uncomfortable with giving money to a government that is at war," said a senior UN worker who did not wish to be named. "They haven't turned their backs but they're not doing as much as they could."

THERE are also bureaucratic hurdles to be overcome in rushing aid to Ethiopia. Arriving in Gode last week, Goal director John O'Shea criticised excessive Ethiopian bureaucracy, which forbids agencies from using vital field equipment, such as two-way radios and satellite phones.

He said lengthy import procedures meant that aid supplies desperately needed in the field were being delayed at the airport. Other aid agencies have similar concerns but are reluctant to air them publicly for fear of incurring official displeasure.

There are some fears that the current crisis has been hyped out of proportion. But whether it is a "famine" or not people are currently starving to death in their hundreds. Unless international aid is immediately and efficiently mobilised - or the long-awaited rains fall - within months Ethiopians may be dying in their thousands, or even hundreds of thousands.