It opened in 1991 as a temporary shelter for Somalis who were fleeing the civil war. Home to more than 340,000 people — largely Somali population — the camp, located in the semi-arid border town in Garissa County, Kenya, is considered the world’s largest refugee camp.
On 6 May, the government of Kenya announced unwavering plans to dismantle the vast camp known as Dadaab. Since then, met by criticism, the Kenyan government has softened its position on closing the camp by November of this year. According to reports, the Tripartite Commission formed by UNHCR and the governments of Kenya and Somalia have agreed on a strategy to carry out repatriation, over a five-year period. In spite of this, though UNHCR and the Kenyan government dispute claims of egregious actions, and contend all repatriations are legal and voluntary, reports from the rights organization claim actions taken by Kenya with support from the U.N.’s High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) are abusive and in violation of international law.
Amid these claims, and proclamations of a supposed voluntary repatriation, the reality deals with real human concerns and voices full of fear and ambiguity. Somalis are struggling with the inevitable that will eventually repatriate them to a place they say they have “nothing to go back to”. Some say, according to a report from the camp, that they were born in Dadaab camp and claim neither Somali nor Kenyan by nationality — they identify as “Dadaabian”.
“I don’t know anything about Somalia. I have not been to Somalia; I’ve only heard that Somalia is my country. My family came from there so my origin is a Somali though I have never been there. I was born and raised in Dadaab,” a young woman told a reporter in Garissa.
With very little guarantee of human and civil rights protection, “Dadaabians” forsee the closure of the camp as a threat and challenge to their future. According to stories from the camp, residents of the camp have said repatriation has to be conditional on desire. They say the people who previously went to Somalia have come back, and will not go back.
“The people who came to the camp in 1991-1992 are not going back,” says an unnamed woman from the camp. “I will suggest the repatriation to be voluntary. Whoever is willing to go back can go back, and for those like myself who don’t want to go back, they should find us an alterative solution.”
Author: Amira Ali