RAS ADJIR, TUNISIA // Hundreds of refugees had waited for hours outside the green tent for a sandwich and bottle of water, but the food ran out within 20 minutes. The men remained standing, even as aid workers tied up their tent. "More in one hour, maybe," said one volunteer. For the 17,000 refugees who fled Libya for the makeshift Camp Chucha just across the Tunisian border, daily life has become one long wait - not only to go home, but also to wash up, call their family and, most of all, to get their one meal a day. Food queues stretch for hours across the sandy camp. Refugees pack into several lines at each distribution tent well before they open, while aid workers and Tunisian troops guard the entrances, struggling to maintain order. "Ten thousand meals, they take time," said Reem Nada, a spokeswoman for the UN World Food Programme, the main donor among several aid groups providing meals at the camp. "We are still trying to organise it in an orderly manner." Much of the problem arises from poor co-ordination between food donor groups, something they are trying to improve. Organisations large and small offer different meals at different times. Long queues snake back outside the small donor organisations, leaving hundreds disappointed. Many refugees, tired of long fruitless waits, said they had given up. Salim Reza, 21, from Bangladesh, said he had waited five hours but came back with nothing. He hadn't bothered to join a food queue on Friday and did not plan to join one yesterday. "There is a long, long line," he said. Tensions exacerbate the problem, with about 14,000 Bangladeshis and 3,000 Africans waiting in separate lines and trading accusations over who gets more food. "Because the Bangladeshis are a lot, they take more," said Abdullah Akip, 33, a Somalian. "The Africans have a small line - all their people get food," said Yusuf, 23, from Bangladesh. Outside the World Food Programme tent on Friday afternoon, a dense scrum of refugees shouted and jostled until they were forced back by a dozen Tunisian soldiers who ordered them all to sit down, the Africans in six lines and the Bangladeshis in another six. When calm was restored, aid workers doled out portions of rice and chicken, and bottles of water, to groups of a dozen at a time. As men on one side shuffled into the tent, a clamour broke out on the other side, with both groups soon descending into a melee of pushing and shouting, forcing the soldiers back. "There are many nationalities here. This is challenging to us humanitarian workers," said Ms Nada, standing at the front of the tent as efforts at crowd control were enforced. Much of the time, the crowd must control itself. When a man rejoined the food queue after collecting his sandwich and sharing it with friends, he was swiftly pulled back by others in the line. A tug-of-war ensued until he was forced to abandon his efforts. Many are so exhausted they just sit staring blankly into space. Some cheered when their turn came. One man who said he had waited four hours for his food simply stood around, sandwich in hand. "I'm waiting for my friends," he said, pointing back at the line. Around the corner, a cluster of refugees hurried towards the back of a van. Others followed, and within a minute, over 100 men had gathered, each clinging to the man in front of them to prevent queue-jumping. It took a security officials several minutes to restore order. As the crowd was quieted, the guard picked up a few broken loaves on the ground and threw them away. Those in line looked on hungrily. There was no food on offer, it turned out. But the men stayed in line anyway. A few minutes later, a UN official passing by realised they were waiting in vain. He tried to disperse the line but the men did not budge. So he tried again. "There is no food here," said Firas al Kayal of the UN refugee agency. "Go stand in the right line."