He asked one of the armed men to gather the camp’s residents—at least, everyone able to rise from their beds—then he set about trying to find a bullhorn. It took almost an hour to get everyone assembled, but when they were ready, Elim climbed to the top of a box truck and stared out at the crowd that stretched across the rocky desert landscape.

“My name is Elim Kibet. I am a doctor, and a Kenyan citizen. I was born in this country and educated here. I’ve worked here all my life.

“Like many of you, I grew up in a small village. My parents were poor, and many nights we didn’t have enough to eat. Thanks to this nation’s generosity, I got an education. I served the people in my community as best I could. Fate led me here, to help you.

“I know many of you are not natives of Kenya. You are refugees from neighboring countries. This nation took you in when you were in need, fed you, kept you safe, and put a roof over your head. Now the people of our nation need your help. We are the ones who are starving and dying. We are in need, and you can help.

“Our government is not perfect. I have taken issue with much of what they have done in recent years. But its people—the people who payed the taxes that sent me to school, who fed and housed you and your family—those people are now depending on us. The government in Nairobi has collapsed. People are dying, not just from the virus, but from starvation and secondary infections.

“Right now, Kenya’s survivors are scattered. That makes them vulnerable to armies large and small. War and famine may be the next enemies we face. To defeat them, we must come together.

“Tomorrow morning, at dawn, I will leave for Nairobi. I will stop at every village and town along the way, gathering survivors. In Nairobi, we will save as many lives as we can. I believe it is the best hope of survival for all of us. I ask you to join me. If you remain here, I will do my best to send help back, but I can’t promise you anything. Together, I believe we have our best chance at survival. And we will save lives.

“Meet me here, at dawn. I urge you. And I thank you.”

Elim watched the crowd break. Many loitered to ask questions of the people who were effectively running the camp. There were no answers, no real plan other than to set out at dawn. He wondered how many would join him.

He instructed the men to travel to Garissa, the nearest city, and bring back trucks. They would stop there first. Garissa had had roughly 140,000 residents before the outbreak—roughly half the population of the refugee camps—but Elim hoped they would find many survivors there.