Thousands of Cegrane's 32,000 refugees line the streets and areas around our makeshift reception area, eagerly scanning all new faces for family members or news from their villages. Children climb on school desks to gain vantage points, adults peer though the wire fences, some of CARE' own staff daring to hope that it was the night that they too could reunite with loved ones. As the first bus unloads, I am reminded of the haste in which people fled their homes. Some carry bags, nearly all are wearing as many layers of clothes as they can and a few clutch seemingly odd items such as umbrellas. They stumble off, dishevelled, their hair matted to their heads from the extreme levels of body heat generated from hours in an overcrowded bus.
Some children cry, but it is the silence of the adults that is more telling.
It was not uncommon to see families with 12 or more people. The tents are calculated to hold 10 people, but families do not want to separate. On their first night here, CARE just wants them to have food and water and feel secure. Cegrane has been open just three weeks and already there is a sense of community. Those who are refugees themselves show their countrymen to their tents.