I spent my Eid day in the blistering heat of Banadir Hospital, Mogadishu, Somalia; a place of trauma, suffering and pain. Before me, I saw mothers with their children and children without their mothers looking around with empty eyes. With temperatures soaring well above 30˚C, and no electricity, food or water, this was an Eid like no other.

Having spent many Eids in Scotland, watching the children of Somalia suffering and not knowing this day to be any different was difficult for me to bear. Every human being I came across was in pain and in trauma and wanted me to speak to them. Every mother in that hospital wanted me to film her child to show the world the reality.

The ground was dirty, the hospital overcrowded with malnourished children. As I walked around looking at the tiny, frail bodies wrapped in the arms of stressed mothers, one question kept repeating in my mind; one question that I needed an answer to ‘Is there not enough food in the world for everyone?’ Throughout the day this question haunted me. I thought of back home, in Scotland, where I knew every person would be eating, giving gifts and wearing clean clothes. Yet, here I was with my brothers and sisters; sons and daughters watching them in more pain than I had ever witnessed on Eid.

As the time came for me to leave, I met Hanat, a tiny child who I vow I will never forget. The little girl of five months lay on the floor with her silent mother watching over her, her eyes in a distant land. The baby was so hungry and frail; she could not open her eyes. As I slipped my finger into her tiny hand, I felt her grip it with all the energy she had in her body.

At that moment I felt that my Eid was complete. Never had I witnessed anything so beautiful and special in my life. As I began to pull away my finger, the child held tighter, begging me to stay. I could feel her speaking to me through her hand; I could feel her asking me questions that I could not, from the bottom of my heart, answer ‘Why is the world just watching? Is our life not worth anything?’

Eid day in Somalia was tough enough just being and watching the children, but saying goodbye to Hanat was one of the most difficult things I have had to do. I knew at that moment what it felt like to see your world fall apart.

Today these children need our help; tomorrow our children might need their help.