I’m in Mogadishu as I type this. I normally don’t post Somalia-related things until I’m out of the country for security reasons so likely this will appear on the blog either from the departure lounge or when I’m back in Nairobi.
I traveled this past Sunday and had my PCR test the prior Friday. The requirement is that the negative test be less than 90 hours from arrival. The last time I had the test, I received the results in a little over a day. This time it was not only same day but it arrived on my phone less than 8 hours after the swab. Pretty impressive. Most developed countries would have a hard time matching that efficiency.
The early morning flight allowed me to arrive in Mogadishu basically at the beginning of the workday (reminder, Sunday is the beginning of the week in Somalia). It was good to be back in the office and be with the team, at least the part of my team that works in Mogadishu. I spent nearly half my time in Somalia in the days prior to the pandemic and it was a big change not to come at all for some time. This was only my second visit since Covid hit, and my first one in 2021.
Throughout the country, I’m told that people are generally treating Covid as any other sickness, possibly even less so given the stigma that was attached to it early on by some (that it was a foreigner disease and that you would only get it if you weren’t a faithful Muslim). One of my staff told me that Somalis are largely ignoring the mitigation protocols unless they are in a health facility or if foreigners are around. So when you see photos of events posted online, it gives you the impression that masks/distancing are being implemented more widely than they really are. At least in the office, staff were quire respectful of each other in this regard. When they leave the office, it’s apparently a different story.
Throughout the day on Sunday I met with staff on various topics from security to HR to supply chain. People kept a safe distance and the guesthouse is large with good ventilation. So my Covid comfort level was generally quite good. Around 1pm, the cook brought up my lunch: yummy camel, veggies and rice with some fresh juice. In the afternoon, meetings continued. Email traffic was slow given that it wasn’t a workday in most of the rest of the world.
After an online meeting ended at around 4pm, I settled in at the dining table to do some emails. All of the sudden, at 5pm exactly, there was a huge explosion. I saw the flash out of the corner of my eye through the window to my right. The blast rattled the windows – one of those you feel in your chest as when lightning strikes close by. I had a pretty good idea that it was a car bomb given my experiences in the past – well beyond anything like a grenade or even an IED (improvised explosive device). A flurry of gunfire ensured. Dark smoke started rising from what looked like one street over; I was guessing it was a couple hundred meter away. Pretty scary.
The question was where and what were the immediate safety and security concerns for staff, assets and, to be honest, even myself. It was rush hour and I immediately wondered whether nor not staff had been caught up in whatever it was that was happening. Because of the challenges in getting through checkpoints, staff generally come to work on foot. That, in and of itself, creates a vulnerability for them when there are incidents like this.
I was alone at the time and I was waiting on information to come through my phone to get a better idea as to what was going on. I have one of the best security advisors in Somalia and I knew that he would be sending something out within the next few minutes. I didn’t know where he was but I knew he wasn’t in the building. At the same time I was tracking the sound of the gunfire to see where it was coming from and also assess whether or not it might be moving in my direction.
Within minutes my phone was lighting up with messages coming in from WhatsApp, Skype and SMS. I’m connected to various security forums and it allows me to triangulate information. Slowly it became apparent that it was indeed a complex attack – a car bomb that was detonated in front of a hotel followed by an attack of an unknown number of armed militants storming the compound. The next several hours consisted of informing, being informed and listening attentively to what was going on. Throughout what would be an eight-hour siege, I was periodically asked how I was doing. To be honest, I didn’t think much about it until I was going to bed that night. At the time I was just staying on high alert, synthesizing information, advising, etc. It was tense but I think I was so caught up in what was going on that I didn’t think about how I was doing.
My colleague, Hassan, who is head of the office and stays in the guesthouse, joined me partway through the evening. He had been in town when the attack began and had to navigate his way around the area surrounding the hotel to reach the office. He was handy to have around, not only for the company but he was accessing information in Somali that provided details I wasn’t getting.
As I was getting into bed, six hours into the siege, I received another message saying it was still ongoing. I was a bit surprised given that I hadn’t heard gunfire in the previous 45 minutes so I was trying to imagine what exactly was still happening. It had been reported that there were deaths but we didn’t know how many at that point. But with 8 hours of fireworks, I feared that the number would be high.
I had only a few hours sleep the night before combined with the stress of the day, so I was dreadfully tired. As I shut off the light I heard another explosion, the 20th by my count, followed by more gunfire. I reassured myself that it was nonetheless winding down and before long I fell asleep. It tells you something about how exhausted I was that I could fall asleep with the occasional popping of gunfire a couple hundred meters away.
I remember in Bujumbura, after a night of crazy gunfire, the next morning the sun rise as it always did. The birds would be singing and there would be no indication of the night’s dramas. Such was the case Monday morning. Somalis don’t seem to let this sort of thing bother them. I suppose you can’t. I’ve been told on numerous occasions that crime scenes transform into reconstruction sites almost immediately. They make a point to erase the traces of attacks as quickly as possible, not allowing the scars left by the terrorists to linger.
The rest of the week consisted mostly of internal meetings. It can get claustrophobic confined in the guesthouse for a few days but I supposed the pandemic has provided some training in this area. I can go up to the roof to get some exposure to the elements, watch the sunset, feel the breeze, etc. But, frankly speaking, I’ve been so busy I barely notice. I just lower my head and go. I did get some respite on Wednesday presiding over a workshop at a nearby hotel. This hotel has far better security than the one that was attacked on Sunday so I wasn’t too concerned. I know the owner and we talked about the recent attack. He told me that he’d been allowed to visit the site and showed me some video from his phone. The amount of devastation was quite stunning. I knew it would be bad having heard all the gunfire and blasts but seeing it on his phone was rather sobering. I asked if he felt he’d learned something about how to better prepare for something like that and he said he had, commenting on the amount of technology and technical expertise of the attackers. They had even carried snacks with them in their backpacks, planning for the long siege though knowing they would perish in the end. Crazy.
Just had my return trip, house-call PCR test. Results will be back in less than four hours. Getting ready to head home.
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