Arriving in the town of Gode in the drought affected region of southeast Ethiopia is a daunting experience. The flat landscape stretches in all directions, the wind blows up loose dust and temperatures reach a burning 40 degrees Celsius at midday. It's a harsh countryside and even the people most comfortable with it, the pastoralists, find themselves struggling to survive a sustained lack of rain.
Normally, the farmers herd cattle, sheep, goats and camels, raise their families, live off their livestock and move around as need dictates. Livestock provide them with everything they require. But after three years of drought and little prospect that this year's rains will come during the next few weeks, the view across Gode and other zones of this region is bleak.
Once-verdant grazing pasture outside Gode has become a dust bowl, dotted with patches of unappetising stubble. Straggling herds of emaciated sheep crisscross the land looking for something to eat. Further afield where camels used to browse, I found dried up, unyielding acacia trees, normally a reliable source of sustenance. The camel train has moved on.
One herder told us that sheep from this area once weighed a rotund 50 kilograms and he mimicked the difficulty they had walking. Now they are a mere 20kg, barely worth slaughtering. Camels, too, he said are shadows of their former selves, able to survive the long journeys, but no longer providing milk for the families.
But it's the people in the cattle herding areas of the Somali region who are the worst off. Their herds simply can't travel the distances in search of vegetation. The cattle are dropping dead by the roadside, their twisted carcasses left to dry in the sun. A brutal reminder of an unfolding disaster.
Everyone who has come to Gode from the bush says they've lost all their cattle, sometimes as many as 300 animals belonging to an extended family. They've coped in previous years, but this year has finally robbed them of everything.