We meet Narau and her 10-month-old daughter Ahadu, as the doctor measures the baby’s arm with a colored band. “Basically, green is good,” he says. “Yellow or red means malnourished or severely malnourished.”
I peer over at the crying child and see the arrow has landed directly in between yellow and red. Narau tells us that she hasn’t eaten since yesterday. She generally allows herself one meal a day, but only if her children are fed. “I try to borrow food from other families, but they are in the same position as me,” she tells us.
The doctor gives her supplemental treatment for the baby, a formula called “Plumpy Nut,” high in calories and essential nutrients. Narau admits however that, out of desperation, she usually shares it with her other children, putting Ahadu at risk of becoming immuno-compromised, due to further malnourishment. Here, children often die from simple ailments like diarrhea or respiratory infections, because of their weakened state.
As she talks, Narau’s eyes are despondent and the words “no hope” and “hopeless” crop up several times in a conversation though our interpreter, Faith Atyang. “I used to worry about my animals dying,” Narau tells us, “but now we all worry about people dying.”