Galkacyo-Qardho

(drafted Nov. 20)

I’m on a flight from Qardho to Galkacyo over north-central Somalia. I’ve been on joint monitoring mission with a donor to see some of the work we’re doing. It’s been a whirlwind trip and I’m a bit exhausted, particularly since I arrived on Saturday morning from London and departed for Somalia early the following morning. When I woke up in Hargeisa (Somaliland), on the Gulf of Aden, it took me a while for my brain to figure out where I was.

The trip began at the smallish Wilson Airport in Nairobi. The majority of the tourist flights (safari, coastal beaches) fly from there and it’s rather handy since it’s closer to home. There was only a small group of us and we had the plane to ourselves – not that we really needed it. The plane left around 7am and made a stop in Wajir, not far from the Kenyan border with Somalia, to refuel. We then continued on to Galkacyo, our first stop.

Galkacyo

Galkacyo is a medium-sized town in the middle of the country. It’s divided into north and south, separate clans and separate administrations. The town is frequently tense and has been off-limits to me for most of the time that I have been in my current role. Given the short duration of the trip (4-5 hours) and the fact that things have been relatively calm, I was allowed to go.

crossing the sometimes tense border from north to south

We support a decent-sized hospital in the south and that would be the primary target of our visit. A couple of other organizations work with us there to support the Ministry of Health in running the facility.

health education for women and girls

The area was severely hit by the drought. A glance at the patient register over the past few months sheds some light on how tough it has been on this area. There have been loads of cases of acute watery diarrhea, cholera and lately a spike in measles. The facility does some great work under sometimes difficult circumstances.

the impact of the drought is as bad as it looks

While there I was able to visit our office and see some of the staff. The majority were out in the field so the majority of the members of my team that I was able to meet were ones that were facilitating the visit. It was a pretty big deal since they don’t often get such visits.

ramshackle living conditions of those who have been displaced

We made a short trip out to a camp for people who have been displaced by drought or conflict (IDPs). It’s so tough to see these places and hear peoples’ stories. The needs are endless.

One woman was at our hospital with a gunshot wound on her left shin. Such wounds were high on the list when we asked what the primary causes of serious injury were. The doctor who was showing us around cracked a bit of a smile and said that her husband did it. “He shot her?!” we asked. The donor said she hoped that he didn’t do it intentionally. Apparently he did. The Somali guy next to me said that’s how a lot of Somali men deal with things. Crazy.

One thing I noticed about Galkacyo was the amount of guns that were floating about town. We agreed that it felt a bit like the Old West. In other towns I’ve been to I haven’t noticed as many.

Hargeisa

From Galkacyo we were off to Hargeisa, the capital of Somaliland, where we would spend the night. Somaliland, as you might know, is a sensitive topic. The Somali government considers it part of Somalia while they consider themselves to be an independent country. Most countries don’t recognize it and that’s where things are for the time being. In the short time I was there I did notice some differences. I was told that the people of Somaliland feel as though they are superior to Somalis. I certainly won’t weigh in on that debate but I will say that what little I saw was safer, cleaner and more developed. Granted, that’s just Hargeisa, but it was still impressive. I guess that’s while a lot of international people are hosted there.

The other thing I noticed was how chilly it is. I’m told the wind blows frequently and the seasoned travelers to Hargeisa had brought a second layer. I, on the other hand, didn’t and even someone like me who is rarely cold was a bit uncomfortable.

We stayed at the Ambassador Hotel. I assume it’s one of the nicer hotels in the city. It’s big and has wireless. The rooms are basic but clean. I didn’t switch on the TV so I don’t know if it worked or what channels were available. I’m normally curious about such things but after the days I had leading up to this night, I just wanted to go to bed. After checking in, the one thing between bed and me was dinner. The lady from the donor agency I was traveling with suggested we meet up for dinner. I concurred, knowing four things: 1) I was a bit hungry, 2) the restaurant served some good camel, 3) the service is known to be fast and 4) she wanted to go to bed early as well. In the end, all four would be true and I was able to get a decent night’s sleep. This is where I woke up wondering where the hell I was.

We checked out at 5:30, had a quick breakfast and were off to the airport. I was told in advance that the security screenings are rather intense. In dodgy environments I’m a big fan of tight security. I’m less of a fan when it seems a bit over the top – at least in my opinion. Here they screen you as you come into the airport (understandable), after you check in and head to the waiting area (also understandable) but at that point you should be done. Instead there is a final screening – the most thorough of the three – before going to a final waiting area. They open even tiny tubes of toothpaste. They pull the caps off pens. They guy even stared at one of my Clif bars for a good 15-20 seconds. Given my confidence in the availability of food for the day, I offered it to him. It seemed to break his trance. He wrinkled his nose and stuffed it back in my backpack.

Qardho

Soon we were back on our plane and heading off to our first destination of the day. Qardho is a small town in northern Somalia/Puntland. Then it was dangerously dry and pre-famine conditions were just setting in. Clinics were full of the sick, mostly children. Carcasses of dead goats and camels could be seen from the road as you drove along. It’s doing better now, having had a bit of rain, but it’s far from enough.

our welcome; apparently we were on the local news

Qardho is sort of in the middle of the horn of the Horn of Africa. Looking down from the airplane you can see a lot of nothing as you approach. Sadly, it looked quite dry. After four failed rainy seasons, the area just can’t afford to lose out on this one. But it’s not looking good.

I had been to Qardho in April of this year. That time I flew in to Garowe and drove the 2 ½ hours north to get there. This time, since it was a chartered flight, we flew directly to the dirt airstrip on the outskirts of town. To our surprise, there was a greeting line of local authorities awaiting us with a TV camera and a couple of photographers. Impressive reception. But I guess my counterpart is a donor after all. One has to treat them well.

lots to see in this photo: our security guys, a guy hanging out of the side of a vehicle video-ing our drive from the airport to town, a roadside camel...

We shook lots of hands and then waited for the flight crew. Soon we were out on the road heading into town. It was a massive convoy of 7 Land Cruisers and a pick-up – the latter being full of armed local police. A ninth vehicle came up alongside us carrying the media with the cameraman filming precariously out one of the back windows. That sort of thing would have breached security protocols if there was a chance that any of the media, including Twitter or Facebook, would be released before we left Qardho. It didn’t and it all worked out.

We were off to visit a couple of maternal and child health (MCH) clinics and then we would meet up with some beneficiaries of the donor funding. I joined for the clinics but bailed thereafter given that these were not our organization’s activities. The beneficiary meeting was in a hotel compound. I sought out a space to sit down, charge my laptop and get some work done. The weather was nice and there was a cool breeze blowing through the small, square room with two doors to the outside. People walked through from time to time, most a bit startled by a white guy sitting alone on a chair with a laptop. One guy, who seemed the least surprised of all, even asked me something in Somali. I shrugged my shoulders and continued working.

Finally the meeting was over and we had some lunch. I think it was my third serving of camel in two days. Then it was back to the airstrip. The conspicuously long convoy weaved its way through town. Soon after leaving town we slowed as a herd of camels encroached on the road. I’m not sure why but I’m fascinated by them.

Our flight to Nairobi would need to make a couple of stops along the way for fuel. We would have only needed one stop but there was no fuel in Qardho (in fact we found out that we could have). The first stop was back to the airstrip in Galkacyo. We had to disembark while they fueled the plane. We chose an acacia tree to be our “transit area” shade. I tried in vain to get my Somali wireless working (I think I need to change companies). In addition to wanting to download emails, I wanted to get news about what was happening in Kenya with a Supreme Court election announcement. Another guy was able to get a signal with a different phone company and we found out that there was some violence but nothing major, at least not that that time.

the transit lounge

Though I was certainly looking forward to getting home, the thought of getting on another plane was not that appealing. It’s not just the fact that over the course of three days I will have boarded an airplane, taken off and landed a whopping eight times (if you include the London flight). Yes, I said eight flights. The whole time I’ve done it with a bad cold and congestion. Each change in altitude brings sharp pain to my ears.

refueling

So that brings me to where I am now – on the airplane from Galkacyo to Nairobi. The pilot said that he spotted a couple of drones flying below us moments ago. Ominous sight.
We have a mandatory a stopover in the tiny town across the border into Kenya called Wajir. Must be one of the world's tiniest international airports. It's not much bigger than my apartment. There I will download messages and thus be preoccupied until we arrive in Nairobi (and sometime thereafter). Looking forward to not traveling for a few days.