My first impression of the refugee camp

I’m in the minibus with three colleagues, a small team off to the newly built DTC in the Leda camp. Emotions are running high. There’s a mix of excitement, apprehension, nerves. Will I see things that I’m not prepared for and that I can’t cope with?

We pass an elephant on the side of the road and there’s a momentary diversion from the seriousness of what we’re doing.

As we get to the outskirts of Leda, we see the Malaysian field hospital and an open truck delivering blankets to the camp. Through the trees at first, we see the refugees dwellings. I am shocked by how inadequate they look. They’re made of flimsy plastic on a frame of sticks or bamboo, pegged together. Steps in the hillside are carved from mud. It’s clear that they wouldn’t withstand much rain. Thank goodness the rainy season is a few months away.

People are queuing for a bag of food at the distribution centre. The queue is hundreds long but it’s well ordered, dignified, patient. I am amazed. Could I be that dignified if there was a chance my children would not eat?


We see life going on. Children flying a homemade kite, or playing cricket with a makeshift bat made from a bit of bark.

As we approach Leda through a single track, we see the local team awaiting our arrival with cheerful smiles. The bamboo structure that has recently been built is phenomenal; it’s like nothing I’ve seen before. It’s a light and airy place to work.

We are shown around the neighbouring public health centre. It’s an incredibly busy clinic which sees over 400 patients a day in a relatively small space. Again, there is patience and calm in the queue.

People in the camp surrounding the clinic are interested in our arrival. The children are shy at first then grow in confidence and give us a little wave, say hello, try out a few words of English. In turn we try our own few words of their language.

As we leave to make the long drive back it’s raining. The locals are surprised. Rain is not due for many months yet. Very quickly the dry ground turns to mud. I look around at the inadequate shelters and wonder what it must be like inside.

As we drive, we see children playing in the standing water. I wonder what health risk this poses and at the same time I take pleasure in their fun. There are so many differences in the living circumstances of those in the camp from what I know at home and yet there are some striking parallels. As every mother knows, all children love jumping in muddy puddles and these children are no different.