At just 13 years old, Orow* has endured more hardship than most children her age. Born into a life of struggle, she now lives with her father and stepmother in Komari 1, an internally displaced persons (IDP) settlement in Hanano II, Baidoa. Their small, makeshift home—built from wood, poles, and corrugated iron sheets—offers little comfort or privacy. She shares a cramped room with her siblings, a daily reminder of the difficult circumstances her family faces.
But Orow’s* challenges run deeper than physical hardship. Her life took a devastating turn when her parents divorced. She had always known struggle, but nothing prepared her for the mistreatment that followed when her father remarried. Her stepmother, from the moment she entered their home, was harsh and unkind. “She would call me lazy and worthless, even when I worked hard to help with the house chores,” Orow* recalled. “If I made even a small mistake, she would twist it into something big and tell my father lies about me.”
Her father, blinded by his new wife’s accusations, never gave Orow* a chance to explain. “Whenever she complained about me, my father would beat me. He never asked me what really happened. He just believed everything she said.” The mistreatment extended beyond words and beatings—she was often denied food, left to go hungry while the rest of the family ate. “There were days I went to bed hungry because she wouldn’t let me eat with the others,” she said. “She treated me like I didn’t belong in my own home.”
Displacement and Despair
Orow’s* family had already experienced significant upheaval before their arrival at the IDP camp. They originally lived in Bula Towso, a village 30 kilometers northwest of Dinsoor. Life there was simple but meaningful—centered around farming and raising livestock. However, a deadly combination of factors forced them to flee: relentless droughts, insecurity, and the collapse of essential services.
With each passing year, the droughts worsened. Their livestock—the family’s main source of food and income—perished. Hunger set in. At the same time, Al-Shabaab’s growing presence made daily life increasingly dangerous. Fearing for their lives, Orow’s* father made the heartbreaking decision to leave their home behind and seek refuge in Baidoa.
But the IDP camp brought new struggles. Life in Komari was crowded, resources were scarce, and there was little hope for a better future. Tensions in her family escalated, leading to her parents’ separation. The emotional toll of these changes weighed heavily on Orow*, and soon, the abuse she suffered at home made even school unbearable. “I loved going to school, but I couldn’t focus anymore,” she said. “I was always tired, sad, and scared. Eventually, I had to drop out.”
A Lifeline Through the GAASHAAN Project
Orow’s* suffering may have continued unnoticed if not for the trained child protection committee in Komari IDP, established under the GAASHAAN project and implemented by GREDO. This committee, trained to identify vulnerable children, recognized the signs of abuse and took immediate action.
Through a toll-free protection hotline, they contacted Nima, a social worker from GREDO, who responded immediately. Nima ensured Orow* was supported through a survivor-centered case management system, prioritizing her safety and well-being. “When I met Nima, she was the first person who really listened to me,” Orow* said. “She didn’t judge me. She just wanted to help.”
After obtaining Orow’s* informed consent, GREDO designed a care plan to address her emotional and physical needs. She was enrolled in a month-long psychosocial support (PSS) program, which provided her with a safe space to process her trauma. Through four structured sessions, she began rebuilding her confidence and self-worth. “Each session made me feel lighter, like I was shedding all the pain I had carried for so long,” she said.
Recognizing that her home was unsafe, Nima took immediate steps to ensure her protection. With the help of extended family members, GREDO facilitated mediation with her father, who initially resisted but later acknowledged his mistakes. In the meantime, Orow was placed in interim foster care* for her safety, where she finally experienced kindness and stability.
GREDO also provided dignity kits, containing essential hygiene materials, clothing, and sanitary products. To support her immediate needs, she received a one-time cash assistance of $99, ensuring she had resources for basic necessities.
Reunification and a New Beginning
One of the most transformative moments in Orow’s* journey was her reunification with her mother. Through careful coordination, GREDO facilitated her return to a safer, more nurturing environment. “When I saw my mother again, I felt safe for the first time in years,” Orow* said. “She hugged me so tightly, and I knew I was finally home.”
During the reunification, the family received a reunification kit, including a mattress, pillow, mosquito net, mats, and other essentials. Even Orow’s* father, filled with regret, pledged to change. “He apologized to me,” she shared. “I never thought I would hear those words from him. It’s not easy to forgive, but knowing he wants to do better means a lot.”
With her family situation improving, Orow* took a crucial step forward—returning to school. After missing out on months of education, she resumed her studies with renewed determination. “I cannot describe how happy I feel when I am sitting in class with my friends, learning and dreaming of a brighter future.”
The Power of Protection and Community Support
The GAASHAAN project, funded by the Foreign, Commonwealth & Development Office (FCDO), is designed to provide sustainable humanitarian aid and protection against gender-based violence (GBV) and child protection risks across Somalia. Led by Save the Children in collaboration with organizations like GREDO, the project directly benefits over 43,000 individuals, ensuring vulnerable children like Orow* receive the protection they need.
Without this intervention, Orow* may have remained trapped in a cycle of abuse and despair. But thanks to the child protection committee, the social workers, and the GAASHAAN program, she found a path forward.
Today, Orow* is not just surviving—she is thriving. She has reclaimed her right to education, is healing from her trauma, and has found the love and support she had long been denied. Her journey is a testament to the power of community intervention and the importance of protecting children in crisis.