* Any views expressed in this article are those of the author and not of Thomson Reuters Foundation.
A sharp labour pain bent Merci double. When it passed, she straightened up and breathed deeply. The sky was already growing dark. She needed to get to the Dungu May health clinic right away, a six-kilometre journey down a dirt trail in the woods. But these woods teemed with life-threatening dangers, especially at night. Like most people sheltering in Linakofo camp, 33-year-old Merci Mborigie had fled here because of brutal militia attacks against villages in the region. An army post close to camp lent them some security, but in the forest, at night, civilians risked attacks, rape, and murder. Leaving the camp could be risky even during daylight hours, as 34-year-old Justine Misa knew all too well. Last year, rebels from the Lord's Resistance Army (LRA) seized two of her daughters on the outskirts of camp in the middle of the day. The girls endured weeks of abuse before escaping and fleeing back to the camp and reuniting with their overjoyed mother. "It was a miracle that the girls came back!" says Justine. In eastern D.R. Congo, LRA rebels have terrorised the population, carrying out unimaginable atrocities including killing and mutilating civilians and abducting and abusing women and children. Residents in most areas of Haut Uélé region including Dingila, Doruma, Bangadi, and Niangara have fled their homes fearing for their lives. At present, more than 300,000 vulnerable people like Merci are living in camps for displaced persons like Linakofo or in overrun host communities. Although Merci knew the dangers of leaving the camp, she also knew that her baby was coming right away, safe path or not. Unless she wanted to risk giving birth at home, she had little choice but to brave the journey through the woods and pray for the best. And so they began the heart-pounding trek, with Merci's husband scanning the woods for danger while pushing Merci, who sat on a bicycle and tried to stifle her groans of pain. Finally, after more than an hour of anxious travel, they arrived safely at Dungu May clinic. Merci gave birth to a healthy baby boy that night. As a result of the current conflict, Medair is providing free health care for displaced people at the Dungu May clinic and at 12 other health centres across the region. This meant that all of Merci's medical expenses were paid for by Medair. "I do not know what I would have done without your help," says Merci. We are also providing medicine at the 13 clinics, training local health staff, and providing free medical treatment and psychological care for victims of sexual violence. "If it was not for Medair, we would have had many deaths, as sick people would have just stayed home to die," says Amon Ndaima, Deputy Nurse-in-Charge at Dungu May. Although Merci's birth story at Dungu May clinic ended happily, it also highlighted the urgent need for a health post closer to Linakofo. Spend a day in Linakofo camp and you will meet a community of 1,500 courageous and resilient people who are caught in a desperate struggle to survive. Families live in tiny shelters made of palm leaves, old tarpaulins, and plastic sheets. Having lost their livelihoods, they depend on rations from humanitarian organisations to survive. Some of them try to grow food on small plots of land near the camp. As their lives hang in limbo, families hope that one day the conflict will end, so they can either go home or settle somewhere and have a normal life. To make matters worse, their closest health care is six treacherous kilometres away at the Dungu May clinic. "The issue of supporting a health post in Linakofo has been a preoccupation for the district health office and other health partners for quite some time," says Dr. Benjamin Manano Ung'ur, District Health Official, Dungu zone. Now, with your support, we are pleased to share with you that we have opened a new health post that offers free treatment right in Linakofo. In just the first month, we conducted 311 consultations, diagnosing and treating people for illnesses like malaria, diarrhoea, and sexually transmitted infections. "I have already been there twice myself," says Justine. "Last month, my son developed a rash all over his body. The nurse prescribed some medicine which we applied on the rash and it disappeared. I have also been treated there." "The health post has made a very big difference," says Modeste Saba Agimirungu, head of the IDP (internally displaced person) committee at Linakofo. "Prior to its opening, we could not leave the camp to go to the (Dungu May) clinic at night, but we go here easily." People living at Linakofo greatly appreciate the new health post. They have taken to clearing the bushes around the new post and maintaining the surroundings. "It is a form of community participation that they have taken up to show their appreciation," says Emmanuel Mbolisa, a nurse in charge of the post. As for Justine's daughters, they continue to recover well from their traumatic ordeal, attending school, helping with the maize harvest, and dreaming of what a brighter future might hold for them. "If Medair were not here, we could have died," says Justine. "Buying medicine is very expensiveâ&${esc.hash}128;&${esc.hash}148;impossible for us to afford. But thanks to Medair, health care is free and we are really grateful for this." Your ongoing support makes it possible for us to save and sustain the lives of courageous women and children like Justine and her daughters during this critical time of need in their lives. Please make a donation today. _____________________________________________________________________________ For more information about Medair's work in D.R. Congo, please click here. This web feature was produced with resources gathered by Medair field and headquarters staff. The views expressed herein are those solely of Medair and should not be taken, in any way, to reflect the official opinion of any other organisation.