Friday, August 29, 2008 Refugees still suffer in centers
PIKIT, North Cotabato -- In this largely Muslim-dominated town that has seen four major wars since the late 1990s, thousands of homes in far-flung villages still await their owners, although the volleys of gun fire and bomb explosions weeks before have essentially "fallen silent."
The uncertain security situation has kept about a fourth of the town's 90,000 population still cramped in 29 evacuation centers scattered across the town.
In a house burned during a fierce skirmish between the military and the Moro Islamic Liberation Front (MILF) in the province, a cat can be seen.
Left earlier by its owners and obviously hungry for food.
But hellish more is to live in the evacuation center, a condition too very far away from the comforts of the home though small the huts could be.
"Many sleep in the cold pavement using only cartons," said Mila Grace Nabos, a 33-year-old mother of three school-aged children, at the gymnasium of the Pikit Catholic parish where about 250 families sought refuge.
Nabos came from war-torn Barangay Tapodoc in the neighboring town of Aleosan, which along with Midsayap municipality was also ravaged by the recent war in the province, but sought solace here due to accessibility.
"We're still terrified to go home," she told this reporter, a few feet from where an infant sleeps in a hammock while the mother slumbers in the concrete floor covered by a cardboard box.
"Aside from continued food assistance, what we really need are sleeping mats, mosquito nets and blankets," Nabos added, lamenting they were only able to bring two sets of shirts for their children as they hastily left their village with the unexpected entry of Moro rebel forces there.
Aid, in food and non-food items from several domestic and foreign non-government organizations, have arrived in the affected towns of North Cotabato, which also included Libungan and Pigkawayan municipalities.
One of those who immediately rushed to the conflict zones was the International Committee of the Red Cross, which deployed nearly a dozen foreign expatriates to the area.
The team has distributed food items to at least 6,700 families in the province, said Juan Fuertes, ICRC head of sub-delegation to Mindanao, lamenting the disrupted schooling of children in these areas.
"It is not just about a person hit by a bullet, but those of deprived of their education [because school was disrupted by the conflict]. Conflict makes people suffer," Fuertes said.
More than 100,000 individuals have been displaced at the height of the latest armed encounter between government and MILF forces, but by August 15, it went down to 59,552 people or 12,415 families, according to records of the National Disaster Coordinating Council (NDCC).
Fuertes said internally displaced persons in evacuation centers feared the outbreak of disease due to poor sanitation facilities.
"We are building water reservoirs and distributing hygiene kits, aside from mattresses and mosquito nets," he said.
On the other hand, the World Food Program of the United Nations has initially provided 400 tons of rice for the evacuees, at 25 kilograms to each family for a month's ration.
But not all of these help have sufficiently served the displaced individuals, many of whom continue to plead for assistance.
Alex Mantawil, 29, a father of six from Macabual in Pikit and staying at the unfinished Buisan warehouse evacuation center in Pikit, confirmed that some refugees have not received sleeping mats, mosquito nets and blankets.
"This despite our names on the list," he lamented, adding that he is still afraid to bring back his family to their village because of the uneasy peace condition.
Outside the Buisan warehouse, a "tent city" has decorated the landscape as farm animals like chickens, goats, carabaos, cows and horses brought by the evacuees when they fled dot the nearby grassland.
Samira Abas, 20 and mother of three, settled on a cart, which is about 2x4 meters, covered by a tent, where next to it is a makeshift wooden structure still without a cover.
"We bought the tent at the market so the children and our belongings would not get wet when there would be rains. My husband would sleep outside our covered cart because it could not longer accommodate him," Abas said.
"We are really very pitiful. We really want to go home but we are afraid because the situation is still dangerous," she said, almost in tears.
In response to the complaints of the evacuees that some did not receive assistance, Yusop Usman, a Pikit social worker at the Buisan evacuation center, said that aid groups only asked for the master list of the refugees.
"They ran the relief operations themselves," he said, essentially confirming there is lack of coordination among groups giving relief that resulted on overlapping or under serving of the refugees' needs.
Until this time, there's still no indication that evacuation centers would run out of people in the next several days, despite the assurance issued by the local police command, because many evacuees still have fears of going home.
At a mass one Sunday afternoon, Senior Inspector Elias Dandan, the local police chief, said it is "already safe to return home."
Clad in fatigue uniform, he also apologized to residents for their being affected by "a small conflict that resulted in a massive evacuation."
Nancy Macagba, from the village of Kolambog, does not want to take risk despite the assurances of Dandan, on the thought of the safety of her five young children.
"Our four-hectare farm of corn and coconut is waiting but our village is a hot spot. We are still afraid to go home," the 39-year-old mother said.
She said there's really no place like home, blaming the latest war for keeping them away from their ordinary routines in the household and in the farms.
"How I wish peace will reign in our midst. We are tired of getting displaced," Macagba said.
