SUDAN:The new UN humanitarian chief had little comfort for Sudanese villagers who have seen supply routes cut, schools shut, and medicine stocks dwindle, writes Michael Georgyin Deribat
The sound of aircraft can mean only two things for the people of this isolated Darfur mountain village. Either it is Sudanese government bombers or the rare arrival of helicopters carrying humanitarian supplies.
Government forces closed off the main supply route to rebel-held Deribat five months ago, residents say, isolating an area vulnerable to multiple frontlines that have driven away humanitarian organisations.
Deribat, one of the main villages in the southeast of the Jebel Marra region, welcomed the new United Nations humanitarian chief on Sunday during his Darfur tour aimed at winning aid groups more access to victims of the conflict.
After the children stopped singing and hospitable local leaders shook his hand, the magnitude of the task ahead soon became apparent to John Holmes, the UN's under-secretary for humanitarian affairs and emergency relief co-ordinator.
Mothers with infants in their arms cried out for medicine. Others feared their children would be robbed of an education. Holmes was shown water pumps in the village, which could dry up if maintenance supplies were not flown in.
But aid groups say it is too dangerous to operate in Jebel Marra, where humanitarian workers have been targeted by militias, including an incident last year in which uniformed Arab militias beat four NGO workers while their international female colleague was sexually assaulted.
The last two remaining aid groups left the area in August. "You can't just drop medicine from the air," said an aid worker who asked not to be named. "We look for windows of opportunity to help out. Many humanitarian agencies have fled rural areas and this has severe consequences."
Deribat's fate depends on orders given to soldiers manning a checkpoint on the main road to the village once used to deliver medicine and other vital goods.
"We hope the government will open the road, we can't survive like this," said Sharif Ahmed (38), standing below jagged hills that lead only to desert.
There is only one way to gauge the government's mood. Villagers say they have to walk three hours in the stifling heat to see whether there are any changes at the checkpoint, risking attacks along the way.
Holmes told local officials he would raise the issue with Sudanese officials but he said he didn't want to make "any false promises".
For now, Deribat's 80,000 people must rely on tough-talking rebels to protect them from Sudanese forces, like the ones they said carried out an air raid last month, killing three civilians, including a five-year-old child. Arab, government-backed militias raped two women in the same month, residents said.
Most of the main town centres in Jebel Marra are deserted and an estimated 35,000 people have fled the most recent fighting, aid groups say.
The crisis in Darfur began in February 2003 when rebels took up arms against the government, accusing it of neglect. The government countered by launching attacks and enlisting Arab militias to help battle the rebels.
Khartoum denies it backs so-called Janjaweed militias, whom it calls outlaws.
An estimated 200,000 people have died and 2.5 million have fled their homes, triggering one of the world's worst humanitarian crises. Washington has said the government's campaign amounts to genocide, a charge Sudan denies.
The village's rebels, who are full of war rhetoric, say they want to go as far as liberating Khartoum from the government of president Omar Hassan al-Bashir, and even toppling other Arab leaders whom they say sit idly by as Darfur's death toll rises.
But the rag-tag group can do little except fire AK-47s and rocket-propelled grenades whenever the Sudanese military strikes. There are few places to hide in the bare, jagged mountains and hills of Deribat.
Moussa Abdel Shafi (28), a fighter, said there were about 1,200 rebels protecting the village. They include Abdul Gassam Abdul Karim (87).
"I will fight until the last bullet, until I die," he said as youngsters cheered him.
Such rhetoric offers little relief to parents who have watched the violence shut down clinics and schools.
As people held up banners for Holmes demanding justice against "war crimes", and asking for food and water, Hassaniya Ahmed explained reality.
"I have 10 children. We have not seen any medicine for five months. When are they going to open the road?" she said.
Rebels hope to give people like her a sense of security. Holding assault rifles, some wore traditional turbans. Others looked fashionable in sunglasses, with braided hair. One smiling fighter said it all depended on "your style".
They hope the United Nations could bring about peace in Darfur but nobody expects a breakthrough any time soon.
"I am not worried about being wounded because these will guard us against everything. We will never get shot wearing these," said commander Abdullah Soudani, proudly exhibiting tiny leather cases containing Korans, which rebels hang on their necklaces and belts.
Asked why he was using a cane and limping from a bullet wound in his leg, he said: "I was asleep and I was not wearing them. The army suddenly showed up and attacked."