It seems we've forgotten that poverty and suffering aren't exclusive to the Middle East

This may be uncomfortable to read – it’s equally uncomfortable to write – but if images of biblical suffering return to our screen, and there is a lull in the coverage of Syria, Yemen or the rest of the Middle East cluster-chaos, then Ethiopia’s chances will improve

(Getty Images)

A few days ago in Ethiopia’s capital, Addis Ababa, prime minister Hailemariam Desalegn urged the world’s wealthy donor nations and international relief agencies not to “neglect” the crisis engulfing his country. He qualified his appeal – warning of the imminent danger of 10 million people running out of food and humanitarian aid within a matter of weeks – by saying he understood there were crises going on elsewhere in the world.

Desalegn’s pleading was an effective acknowledgement that, regardless of the scale of the problem, he knew Ethiopia had to get in line and accept the global centre-stage position of Syria and its allied migrant crisis, which continues to dominate the attention of Europe and the international community.

The idea that malnutrition in Ethiopia can be neglected would have been unimaginable to those affected by the media coverage of the “biblical famine” of 1984. The images, shot in northern Ethiopia by cameraman Mohammed Amin and voiced by BBC reporter Michael Buerk, were first shown in the UK. Within a matter of days (long before the light-speed viral audiences of social media) almost 500 mainstream television stations across four continents were showing the same report.

A former music journalist and pop star, Bob Geldof, was part of the global audience that felt an almost elemental responsibility for what they were seeing. Live Aid in July 1985 was the culmination of that sense of collective, visceral, engagement.

That horror claimed the lives of almost a million people. This time, with the Horn of Africa already struggling from the effects of the worst drought in 50 years, another 10 million people are at risk, with 750,000 refugees from neighbouring Somalia adding to the problem. The United Nations says it needs $1.4bn in emergency food aid for Ethiopia, where 400,000 children are already affected by severe malnutrition. Will they get that? Unlikely.

This may be uncomfortable to read – it’s equally uncomfortable to write – but if images of biblical suffering return to our screen, and there is a lull in the coverage of Syria, Yemen or the rest of the Middle East cluster-chaos, then Ethiopia’s chances will improve.

It’s too morally convenient simply to cite “donor fatigue” as a factor here. The old French warning “If a pot goes often to the well it will break” doesn’t account for the herd-instinct agenda of global news channels, the diminished attention span of would-be donor audiences, and an increasing desire to see positive outcomes from the work of NGOs. Long-term aid is just less interesting than a happy ending.

So what is out there competing for our time? The Syrian peace talks in Geneva continue, discussing everything from Vladimir Putin’s influence to the drop-off in aid in areas controlled by forces opposing President Assad. The UN say they need urgent access to 1.1 million people by the end of April, warning that some rebel-held areas, struggling with little food or water, have received no medicine since 2013. Potential polio or measles epidemics could affect millions.

In Yemen, despite a claimed ceasefire, 55 people, including 14 civilians, have died over the last couple of days. Important? Perhaps, even if you are not aware that in the besieged city of Taiz in southern Yemen, the UN’s food aid agency, WFP, say the situation is at a catastrophic level and that famine is already happening; this is only one city among many.

In South Sudan, Unicef, the UN agency responsible for emergency aid to children, are working hard to secure the release of child soldiers. Unicef says that any release would be an “important and symbolic move” that could improve the chances of peace in a war-torn country, where thousands of children have been abducted during the brutal two-year civil war.

An image of one child soldier returned to his parents, one child saved from the illegal bombing of civilian targets, or one dead child washed up on a beach, might, dispassionately, be called game-changing.

Is that how we decide who wins and who gets neglected? Our humanitarian reflexes have become over-conditioned by competition. So, Syria, or the child soldier?