The Foreign Service Journal, January 2012

J A N U A R Y 2 0 1 2 / F O R E I G N S E R V I C E J O U R N A L 33 windswept, remote outpost? Just then, Ibrahim took off and ducked into a tent. Meeting Aisha He emerged with a young So- mali woman, dressed in a bright- blue direh (billowing dress) with her head covered in a turquoise- colored scarf. An older Somali male accompanied her. A group of children and women quickly formed around us as we were introduced outside the clinic. “I want you to meet Aisha,” Ibrahim said, “and her uncle, Abdi.” Ibrahim told me that Aisha’s family — her father, mother and four brothers — had all been killed during a gun battle in Mogadishu. She and her uncle were the sole survivors. Abdi had survived unscathed, but Aisha had been shot several times. Four shots had shattered her right arm just below the elbow. Abdi had taken her to a clinic in Mogadishu, and a doctor had immediately amputated the arm below her elbow to save her. She was 15 years old at the time. Ibrahim recounted how Aisha had managed to scratch out a life for herself in the camp for the past two years, helping other Somali women gather firewood, fetch water and watch the younger children. Now 17, she was hoping someday to marry a young man from her clan and start a family. “We Will Help You” Aisha had proud, dark brown eyes and a delicate beauty that was perfectly framed by her turquoise head- scarf. Too shy to speak directly to us, she whispered to her uncle who — through an interpreter — told us she had asked whether the American could help her. With only one arm, and a left arm at that, she worried that her chances of attracting a Somali husband were slim. I conferred with Ibrahim, who said the U.N. High Commissioner for Refugees unfortunately did not have any programs to provide prosthetic devices to victims of violence. And the various agencies and organizations working in the camp were all overburdened with their own caseloads. “We will help you,” I declared, with all the decisiveness I could muster — even though I had no idea how to help her. Just like that. No Inshallah (“God willing”) appended to the statement to give me an out if the task proved too daunting. It was a simple, declarative sentence — a commitment! After all, I represented the United States, the land of possibili- ties. But did I really understand the responsibility I had taken upon my- self? Did I have a right to make such a commitment without knowing for sure that I could deliver on my promise? Aisha smiled shyly and turned away. Had I given her a false sense of hope? Or was she already so jaded by the traumatic circumstances of her young life that she did not expect much from a newly arrived foreigner who would be gone by nightfall? Working the System When I returned to Addis Ababa the next day, I re- solved to find out whether my UNHCR colleagues could help me resolve Aisha’s dilemma. No one could offer a practical solution, though, and the press of other refugee business and planning for a visit to Somaliland soon con- spired to push the issue to the back burner. But my promise kept nagging at me. An introductory call on the head of the International Committee of the Red Cross in Addis a week later gave me my first lead. During our discussion, the ICRC chief mentioned his organization’s center for producing and fitting prostheses for landmine victims. I told him about Aisha and he said that even though she was not a landmine victim, he would consider including her in the program if I could get her to Addis and provide for her welfare during her stay. Later that afternoon, I called my UNHCR contacts and asked if they could fly Aisha and her uncle (Somali custom would not permit her to travel unaccompanied) to the capital on one of their regular logistics support flights from eastern Ethiopia. Again, I was told that the case was unorthodox, but they would consider it if I could guarantee them that someone would provide shelter and meals for the two during their stay. In the evening, I called my contact at the Interna- tional Organization for Migration, which helped pro- vide shelter for refugees in Addis before they were F OCUS Aisha had proud, dark brown eyes and a delicate beauty that was perfectly framed by her turquoise headscarf.