A father told the BBC that his wife was forced to give birth to twin girls while hiding from soldiers due to the brutal conflict in the Tigray region of Ethiopia. She died days later and the widower finally put the twins in a basket and fled the conflict to seek refuge in neighboring Sudan.
Together with his five-year-old son and 14-year-old brother-in-law, he is now in a refugee camp, where an American doctor is helping to look after the twins.
The battle for control of Tigray – which lies at the heart of the ancient civilization of Aksum – is in its third month.
The Tigray People’s Liberation Front and forces led by the Ethiopian army are fighting for power in a conflict laden with ethnic tensions.
The conflict displaced about two million people, with about 60,000 fleeing to Sudan.
Every displaced person has a story to tell – of how they felt when they heard the first shot; how they hid in caves in the midst of airstrikes, and how they were shot and sexually abused.
Many also remember how they overcame adversity and traveled for days without food and water to reach a safe place.
This is the story of the widower Abraha Kinfe:
I’m 40 years old. My late wife, Letai Tsegay, was 29. We got married 13 years ago and had three children together.
We used to live on farmland near the town of Mai-Kadra in western Tigray. On November 10, federal troops penetrated our area and passed our home. They did not notice us. It was a great relief.
We then went into hiding with four of our neighbors in the woods near our house. My wife had severe labor pains, but I was terrified of taking her to the clinic in Mai-Kadra.
My wife gave birth to twin girls in the woods with the help of a woman hiding from us. Thank you for that.
Later that day we went back home. Unfortunately and unfortunately, Letai could not receive postnatal treatment. She could not get the injection that would stop her bleeding. After about ten days, Letai passed away.
I was completely sad. With our four neighbors, we buried her on our farm.
I wish I could take her to the clinic, but back then things were upside down in town and people ran away to save their lives. It remains a ghost town.
Five years ago, my family and I were displaced from the city of Metama. [in the neighbouring Amhara region] due to ethnic fighting.
We moved to the Mai-Kadra area to rebuild our lives from scratch. We were allocated a piece of land by the local administrator for the farm.
In our new place we built a small house with wood and mud. It was a comfortable place for me and my wife. Our son was born there. Even my twin daughters were born there, only for us to leave 20 days later.
When my wife dies, I feel the world around me collapse. I cried and cried to hold her in my arms. I hated the bloody war that brought us total misery.
My beloved wife, mother of my children, passed away because she could not get basic medical treatment.
Because the situation was still dangerous, my neighbors left for Sudan. I stayed behind, with the twins, my son and brother-in-law.
We always went into hiding in the woods when we saw troops. It was very difficult to look after twins alone, with no neighbors.
Babies at that age need their mother to breastfeed them. I supported them by giving drops of water, sugar, dipping my finger in soupy food so that they could suck it again and again.
After about 20 days, I went to the federal army in the area, and I asked them if I could take my twins to the clinic in Humera, another town nearby.
Luckily they let me pass, but then I walked to the Tekeze River and crossed it by boat to reach Hamdayit in Sudan. I took the twins in a basket, and the other two children were with me too.
We are now finding shelter in the Hamdayit refugee camp. An American Red Cross doctor looks after the twins.
She provides them with the necessary food and watches its development every three days. God bless her for her kindness and the support she has given to all the refugees.
Twin baptism
The twins are now more than two months old. I can see them putting on weight. But my five-year-old son misses his mother so much – he constantly asks for her. It breaks my heart. I hate to lie by telling him she will join us again one day.
I am constantly struggling to understand why Letai is no longer with us. Life is hard indeed. Here are my twins, and I confess that they are constantly memories of my wife who died in my arms.
Fellow refugees have sympathy with the situation and they try their best to give me comfort.
They suggest that the twins be named Eden [after the Biblical story about expulsion from the Garden of Eden], and Trefi believes that their existence is already a miracle of God. Trefi means ‘hold on’ in Tigrinya [widely spoken in Tigray and neighbouring Eritrea].
According to the Orthodox Christian tradition, baby girls should be baptized on the 80th day after birth. That day is coming; but there is no church service in this refugee camp.
I still suffer from sadness and pray to God that He will give me strength to raise my children in a safe environment. I hope the miserable conflict will stop and we will all continue with the life where we left off.
More about the Tigray crisis:
In my heart I still struggle with why peace and security have been taken away from us. Why do we have to suffer like this?
Why are we denied a secure existence while others, those who brought this tragedy upon us, are satisfied with comfort and stability?
They raise their children without trials. Their children enjoy the warmth of their homes, they are cared for by their parents and go to school and play in their neighborhoods.
“The sadness is great”
My thoughts go back to the day I left Metema and settled in the Mai-Kadra area five years ago. I worked hard to establish myself in the community, and from dawn to dusk I worked hard to reach the far corners. I did well to support my family.
I used the agricultural land for which I was allocated and rented other lands to earn more income. I used to have good sesame and sorghum crops.
But here I am now with nothing to do, no land to farm, no wife to love, no community to be a part of, no church to go to.
I also think of the crops I am going to harvest. I can’t help but keep quiet about the past, how we used to own, what life was like, how my kids frolic while trying to deal with life as a refugee. The sadness is great; my kids do not deserve it.
Everything was suddenly taken away from me because of the senseless ethnic strife between the Amhara and Tigray people.
There are tens of thousands of refugees in camps in Sudan, and we all come from Tigray. I can see that we are badly affected by the conflict.
I hope that this war will end soon, and that peace will prevail. We are eager to return home so that we can resume our lives in the land of our fathers and ancestors.