Somali boys wait in line at a World Food program "wet food" distribution center in central Mogadishu. Hundreds of new arrivals, mostly from the hardest hit drought regions in the south, are pouring into the Somali capital in search of food. Photo by: Giles Clarke/Getty Images
Unable to wait for help from their government or the international community as they face the prospect of a famine, Somalis are turning to one another for support.

The age-old clan network is the basis of Somali society as well as its safety net. Combining this network with modern social media, communities are using WhatsApp to help families and raise funds to buy them life-saving supplies. WhatsApp is a worldwide messaging app, or program, for cell phones.

"This is the first time this has been done, because of the level of desperation," says Jamal Abdi Sarman. He scrolls through a group on the app set up by members of his clan, showing how each member has pledged to donate money.

Based on the formula that one family needs approximately $60 a month, members of the group decide how many families they can help. Then they deposit the money into a bank account set up by Dahabshiil, the international funds transfer company created in 1970 by a Somali businessperson.

A committee of five people uses the money to buy basics for the families - usually rice, powdered milk and water.

They Can't Rely On Themselves Any Longer

People started out using their own ways to handle the drought, says Sarman. He works for an international aid agency.

But now it's too big for them to manage, he says, as their ways to make a living are gone. "People have lost whatever they had and have gone into camps for internally displaced people," he says.

"The WhatsApp groups were organized by one person, and it just took off, snowballing. Someone added me and then I added another. Then we were hundreds and came up with this formula. Everybody is very concerned about their own clan or sub-clan. With this, you know that at least you have taken care of people who you know."

Prominent in the growing network are those with roots in Somalia, who are spread all over the world. The group is sizable in Canada, where just under 45,000 people give their ethnic origin as Somali. The U.S. state of Minnesota also has a large Somali community in the tens of thousands.

However, smaller groups have less extensive networks and fewer connections outside the country. They are likely to face more of a struggle and rely solely on aid agencies for support.

Millions Need Food And Water

Humanitarian organizations have been warning that 6.2 million Somalis are on the edge of famine. They are desperate for an international relief operation that is proving slow in its response.

The foreign minister of Somaliland, Saad Ali Shire, says that food, water and medication are needed quickly. "Otherwise we will be looking at a very dire situation." Somaliland is next to Somalia.

Aside from actions such as the WhatsApp groups, Somalis have also been helping each other in more traditional ways. In Somaliland, small farming communities that have been able to harvest some crops have been taking in nomadic families hardest hit by a third straight year of drought. In many cases, the pastoralists, or herders, have lost all of their goats and sheep.

An hour's drive through parched land outside the city of Burao, Barre Mohamed shows off the tiny green oasis of crops he has grown. He used a homemade irrigation system on farmland he manages for a local landowner.

Just A Basic Existence

Mohamed, 35, is from the Bantu community in the south of Somalia, and, with his agricultural knowledge, he is helping dozens of pastoral families who have congregated nearby in a camp for displaced people. The farm shares water with them from a tank, and food. But daily life is still a struggle.

"We can only spare so much, and the pipes have worn and need to be replaced because they are leaking. The tank is dying," he says. He gestures toward the rusting structure, which stores water drawn from 500 meters (1,640 feet) below.

The desperate lack of water creates tensions between new arrivals and those already there. "It's causing conflict. If I am not here to constantly regulate the use of the water tank, then there are problems because people fight or misuse it," he says.

Mohamed is proud of the crops he has cultivated against the odds, including orange trees and tomato plants.

"We've been able to survive and help some people (on) this small scale, but time is running out."

To Somaliland's west, small numbers of people with their remaining animals have arrived in villages such as Carro Malko. There was more rainfall here than in other areas last year, so farmers have a small amount of grass.

Preparing For More Arrivals

A village committee has been organizing the care of the new arrivals, explains Alice Ennals. She works with the Development Fund, a Norwegian nonprofit group helping to support small farmers.

"Each family cares for five to 10 people. If there is a whole family that comes, they are given the kitchen-hut, its traditional name, and food that they will then cook for themselves. If there are individual herders, they will sleep under the trees with their animals but eat with the family," she says.

The people give help, knowing they might need support sometimes, she says.

]]>