I don't go to school anymore because of the violence and I now have to live here.
20 September 2007
I am pleased to wake up this morning with the sun shining through my window, At least the people that I spoke with yesterday will have spent a dry night. However, on the other hand with sun comes heat, thirst and in some cases dehydration.
I get in the Oxfam vehicle to go to work. The roads in Goma are laden with molten rock as 5 years ago Mount Nyiragongo erupted - still today you can see the traces of the disaster. Needless to say, the ride is bumpy. If I had not yet had my cup of coffee it would certainly have helped to wake me up.
An hour later, I am out in the field with Oxfam's water engineer and Richard, from our partner organisation ASAF, who I met yesterday.

While I am waiting for ASAF's office to open, I meet Fabrice, who is six years old. He is roaming around and I ask him what he is doing, he looks at me and says:
"I don't go to school anymore because of the war and I now have to live here. All of my family are with me. Now I don't go to school so I do nothing all day. I am going to go for a walk. But I'd rather go to school."
Unlike the people I talked with in the settlements and camps yesterday, Fabrice is staying in a host family. It's incredible to see the solidarity within a community that is itself already vulnerable. Most people here live on less than $1 a day and yet they are sharing the little that they have with the displaced people who have sought refuge here.
We move further on to the pumping station nearby, which is no longer working as it should. I am told by Richard that this means there is at least a four-hour window during the day when people cannot access water from the various water points. So to meet their needs they go to the nearby lake, causing cholera and other sometimes fatal health issues.
This is a problem that I have heard all too often over the last few days and it has become evident that if people here fall sick because of water-borne diseases, the majority of families will not be able to afford the treatment they need - which can make the difference between life and death.

"Oxfam and ASAF are going to install water tanks at various distribution points in the system so that people no longer have to resort to fetching untreated and unsafe water," says Ildefonse, Oxfam's water engineer.
He tells me that he and his team here have identified where people are using the system the most so that they can supplement the water system with water tanks. The tanks will ensure that there is a constant supply of water to cater for the increased demands made on the system by the newly arrived displaced communities.
"If these tanks were not put in, people would not be able to have the recommended minimum amount of clean drinking water per day, which is 15 litres per person," Ildefonse explains.
I learn that we are also training members of the community so that they can maintain the water systems themselves and take on ownership and management of their own water supply.
"The great thing about this project is that it helps both the local community and the people who have been displaced. When the displaced communities eventually return home, the community here will still feel the impact of the project so it meets the needs of everyone."

We step back in the car and go to an area where Ildefonse tells me that 90% of the people who use the water point are from the wave of newly displaced people. On arrival, I can immediately see that there are long queues of people waiting to fill up their jerry cans with clean water.
Gabriel, who lives among the settlement of internally displaced people, explains why additional water is needed: "Water is a big problem; you can see the queue at the entrance to the camp. People have to wait from 6 o'clock in the morning until mid-afternoon to get water, so some women end up going to the lake, which is unsafe."
Over the next few days, I will be following the construction of the water tanks that the Oxfam team will install here and in other designated places in the surrounding area.
