THE conflict in Darfur is an international issue. The camps in Darfur are a personal tragedy for the two million displaced people they house.
I visited one of the camps this week - Al Salaam on the outskirts of El Fasher, the capital of North Darfur. There, neat rows of tiny, tightly packed huts stretch out in a testament to the ragged edge of humanity.
In the camp live 150,000 souls.
Some have been there for four years. New arrivals come every day.
People exist rather than live. They have the food they need but water is in short supply.
These are people driven from their homes and still terrorised by the armed militias and bandit gangs which the government of Sudan has allowed to stalk Darfur.
For four years the international community has tried to bring immediate aid to Darfur and find a lasting solution.
So far we have succeeded in just one of those goals.
The commitment and bravery of aid agencies and workers backed by governments such as our own has saved hundreds of thousands of people from starvation, but peace still feels a distant destination to the people who live in the camps.
Through the Department for International Development (DFID), the UK has been able to provide the scale of aid which makes a real, immediate difference.
So far we have provided £272m of assistance and, as Gordon Brown announced with the French President Nicolas Sarkozy this week, we are prepared to provide more for the economic reconstruction of Darfur.
But that assistance must come at a price that the government of Sudan can and must pay. They must secure a ceasefire. They must allow the combined international force which the African Union and United Nations have agreed to provide to be deployed as quickly as possible to help secure the peace.
If they do not, the Prime Minister has made it clear we are prepared to seek further sanctions against them.
Security is what the people of the camps crave most.
I spoke to the elders of the camp at Al Salaam. They have spoken to a number of international delegations over the years, expressing their hopes and fears. So far those hopes remain largely unfulfilled while their fears grow, yet they still have belief that the international community can deliver.
Their patience and dignity amongst the tension and squalor of the camp is humbling.
They blame the Sudanese government for allowing the armed militias which terrorise them and also for the bombings which threaten their lives.
Women talk of their fears of being raped and murdered when they walk to the outskirts of the camp for firewood.
But they also talk of hope. They want their children to be educated
and they want to improve themselves.
It is time for the international community to redouble our efforts to make their hopes of peace a reality.
I made it clear to every Sudanese minister and official I met that this is an opportunity they can grasp and that the patience of the international community is running out.
The contrasts between almost every aspect of life in Darfur and life in Scotland are stark, but the aspirations of the people bind us to them.
They want to live in peace, they want the chance to earn a living, make the best of themselves and see their children educated and with better prospects than themselves, like every decent family here.
And it is here in Scotland that much of our policy on Sudan is coordinated. That is why on my return from Darfur I went straight to DFID's headquarters in East Kilbride to talk over my visit and discuss the next steps we should take.
Solving the problems of Darfur will be neither quick nor easy but that must only add to the urgency with which the international community must address them. The scale of the suffering can only be alleviated by the scale of action which nations can only achieve by acting together in co-ordination.
I am not the first politician to visit the camps of Darfur and I certainly won't be the last.
But rather than be daunted by the scale of the challenge, I am inspired by the hope shown by people in seemingly hopeless circumstances, and humbled that the human spirit can be so strong in the most inhumane conditions.
The full article contains 736 words and appears in Scotland On Sunday newspaper.