An hour's drive through parched and barren land outside of Somaliland's second largest city, Burao, Barre Mohamed shows off the tiny green oasis of crops he has grown using a homemade irrigation system, on a piece of farmland he manages for a local landowner. Mohamed, 35, is from the Bantu community in the south of Somalia, and, with his wealth of agricultural knowledge, he is also helping dozens of pastoral families who have congregated nearby in an impromptu IDP (internally displaced person) camp. It is particularly sizeable in Canada, where just under 45,000 people give their ethnic origin as Somali, while the U.S. state of Minnesota has a large community running into the tens of thousands. Initially, people have drawn on their own coping mechanisms for the drought, says Sarman, who works for an international aid agency. The tank is dying, he says, gesturing towards the rusting structure, which stores water drawn from a borehole 500m beneath. Then they deposit the money into a bank account set up by Dahabshiil, the international funds transfer company created in 1970 by a Somali entrepreneur, and post a photo of the receipt on the group to prove that the money is there. Humanitarian organizations have been warning that 6.2 million Somalis are on the brink of famine, desperate for the support of an international relief operation that is still proving slow in its response. Mohamed, 35, is from the Bantu community in the south of Somalia, and, with his wealth of agricultural knowledge, he is also helping dozens of pastoral families who have congregated nearby in an impromptu IDP (internally displaced person) camp. Humanitarian organizations have been warning that 6.2 million Somalis are on the brink of famine, desperate for the support of an international relief operation that is still proving slow in its response. Humanitarian organizations have been warning that 6.2 million Somalis are on the brink of famine, desperate for the support of an international relief operation that is still proving slow in its response. Unable to wait for help from their own government or the international community as they face the prospect of a devastating famine, Somalis at home and abroad are turning to one another for support. A village committee has been organizing the care of the new arrivals, explains Alice Ennals, of the Development Fund, a Norwegian NGO (non-governmental organization) helping to support small-scale farmers. Aside from initiatives such as the WhatsApp groups, Somalis have also been helping each other in more traditional ways. Prominent in the widening network are members of the Somali diaspora, who are spread all over the world. This is the first time this has been done, because of the level of desperation, says Jamal Abdi Sarman as he scrolls through a group set up by members of his clan, showing how each member has pledged to donate money.