My name is James Hooley and I’m currently part of the British Office for Somalia team in Nairobi. My boss, Matt Baugh, has very kindly lent me his blog so I can tell you a little bit more about our trip to Mogadishu on Wednesday with Andrew Mitchell, the UK Secretary of State for International Development – the first Cabinet Minister to visit Mogadishu since Douglas Hurd in 1992. You can read more about Mr Mitchell’s trip in DFID’s press release here, and in the BBC’s report here.
I have been working on Somalia from Nairobi for 2 years now, and yet this is only my 4th visit to Mogadishu and to Somalia – the 1st of which took place in April this year. Until then the security situation had prevented regular visits. My work, like my FCO colleagues around the world, is to monitor political developments, report on key events and advise on UK policy. The challenges of doing this from a neighbouring country are huge and so the opportunity to start meeting my Somali counterparts in their own country is a significant and welcome development. It reflects not only an improving security situation in Mogadishu, but also the importance of Somalia for the UK. To make a difference we need to understand better the situation on the ground and that involves talking to people on a regular basis – and not just when they pass through Nairobi.
The Development Secretary’s visit gave me the opportunity to leave the confines of the secure airport compound and travel along the war-ravaged streets of Mogadishu to the Prime Minister’s office at Villa Somalia for the first time. We did so in a convoy of large armoured ‘Casspir’ vehicles which are specially designed to withstand land-mines and road-side bombs. They are operated by African Union peace-keeping troops from Uganda and Burundi (AMISOM). Their dedication to this operation and the sacrifices they have made (particularly over the last few months) is deeply moving and I cannot begin to commend them enough for the professionalism and bravery which they continue to show – and in particular for the protection they provided to our group on Wednesday. The Somali people and the international community owe AMISOM a huge debt of gratitude.
As we left the airport (body armour and helmet on, sun beating down on our reinforced metal ride…the experience already slightly uncomfortable!) two Ugandan soldiers stood up out of the top of the vehicle and manned the guns attached to the roof. The long, narrow windows sit low down in the Casspirs and so I crouched with my colleagues from the office, the BBC, and The Times to get a glimpse of the streets of what is nearly always condemned as “the most dangerous city in the world” – and where no British diplomat has walked since our Embassy closed in 1990.
It is perhaps predictable to say that the first thing you notice is the scale of the destruction. This once beautiful coastal city has been reduced to rubble; nothing has been spared, save the magnificent Mosque, rebuilt by President Sheikh Sharif 2 years ago, which seemed practically untouched. But other buildings, shops, cars – all are shot-up, many are just shells. This was the main road to Villa Somalia, used daily by AMISOM and government ministers. Sand- bags rest in doorways and occupy the space where windows once stood in their frames; until 18 months ago this road was a gauntlet targeted by insurgents from the Islamist al-Shabaab group.
But now it is a different story. Thanks to AMISOM and troops aligned to the Transitional Federal Government, this route is now relatively safe. And you begin to realise that this isn’t just a city at war, it is a living city with people trying to reclaim some sense of normality. The streets are full of parked cars, taxis and mini- buses. Businesses are open all the way, including chemists, mechanics, restaurants and tea houses. As we approach the junction at Kilometre 4 (an empty plinth in the middle of the square, once the site of a statue of Ahmed Gurey, a 16th century Somali war hero) a shop is painted in the orange colours of Fly540 (a Kenyan airline), with a sign advertising tickets for sale. In fact, all of the shops along this corridor to Villa Somalia are painted in vibrant colours, which give much needed respite from the bullet holes and crumbling structures that they hide. They are all the more prominent for the sandy backdrop of the coast and the bright blue waters of the Indian Ocean which are periodically visible from the road.
These colourful buildings are matched by the brightly coloured cloths and clothes worn by the Somali men and women we passed. The presence of so many Mogadishans going about their business was, I think, one of the most interesting and encouraging sights. One assumes that in a war-torn city, the residents retreat to their homes, they flee, or they perish. Sadly this has been the case for many – but some stayed and some have returned. Life goes on in Mogadishu. I only hope that in time we are able to travel more freely in the city to meet these people, hear their stories and to understand their determination in the face of 21 years of conflict.
Somalia is often referred to as the world’s only “failed state”. This is an unfortunate term. It doesn’t reflect the hopes and aspirations of a nation – and its homesick diaspora who left during the 1990s for the safety of Kenya, Europe, the Americas, Australia and many other countries. The challenges facing Somalia are huge, and Mogadishu remains a city at war. The current famine is dire, and is set to turn in to a disaster of catastrophic proportions if more assistance is not provided. The pressure on the Transitional Federal Government and its new Prime Minister Abdiweli has never been greater – Somalia expects. But our trip to Mogadishu showed us how the Somali people are beginning to reclaim their country and show the world that theirs is a story of hope – and not just of despair.
Here are some of my pictures: