Mogadishu - The Mayor and Meeting with Staff

Since the pandemic began, I have obviously been unable to get to Somalia as much as I did beforehand. In some ways it has made my job easier (less travel; less time and energy spent in transit; more time to dedicate to some of the essential things that I do). In other ways, as for many people, it’s made my job more difficult. In our context, the impact of less face-to-face is more acute. It’s a culture where meeting people, shaking hands, having a cup of tea, solving problems in person, etc. are hardwired into the way society works. Video conversations with government officials and staff as a replacement aren’t easy, feeling sometimes that they are accepted begrudgingly. It could be that some are less comfortable with the technology but I suspect that many just find it annoying - a cheap substitute for the real thing. Elsewhere in the organization, particularly at higher levels, it's discussed as what the real thing has become. I suppose that's fine for what they do, but the closer you get to the tip of the spear, the more it doesn't work. We can continue to explore technology to enhance service delivery, but a Zoom call can't provide water or nutrition care to those in need.

I’m sure many, if not most, organizations have also experienced that over time, staff energy and engagement wanes. Activities lose momentum. People may also become more distracted by their private lives. Moreover, as staff are unable to meet and with no external visitors coming into the country, it can sap people’s motivation.

My HR Coordinator, one of the people organizing the visit, was telling me that the news that the director was coming, in and of itself generated some new energy. I suppose that’s a good thing but you sort of want the energy to come from other sources as well. I suppose we’ll take what we can get.

In 2019, about half of my work year was spent in Somalia. While it was tough spending so much time away from family, it was very beneficial in my job. Over that period I was able to strengthen my relationships with staff and government officials. I generally felt as though I gained a deeper understanding of what was happening politically as well as in key areas like security and economics. It’s a complex environment and without a significant investment, you’re likely not going to understand it well. Even after more than four and a half years of working in the context, there are still so many things I don’t understand. But I’m further along than I was.

Over the many trips back and forth between Mogadishu and Nairobi, I developed my routines. I was able to get to know people in immigration as well as those working security and at the cafes. I knew the people at the ticket counters, the flight attendants and some of the fellow travelers who were doing the same shuttle back and forth, though few were doing it as frequently as I was. It made it a more pleasant experience given how annoying air travel is (much more so now with the pandemic). It’s often tough getting up at 4:15am, hopping in a taxi and heading out into the dark, empty streets of Nairobi, knowing that you’re going to be away from family and bracing yourself for what is often tense and uncomfortable.

On this particular trip, I wasn't unable to slip back into my routines as I would have ordinarily. Saying Covid has changed things is becoming as trite as saying computers have changed things. It’s more than apparent to people by now and, sadly, some of it is likely here to stay. Many more steps are added to the already cumbersome travel experience. You now have the mandatory PCR test a couple days before departure. You need to add those results to your necessary travel documentation. You need a separate QR code which allows you to verify that your test is authentic. Many entrances require a fresh squirt of hand sanitizer. By the time I arrived at the guesthouse in Mogadishu I felt the need to wash off the thick gumminess that had built up from multiple applications of gooey sanitizer. Then there’s masks and distancing in the airport and masks on the plane. 

Upon arrival in Mogadishu, things are admittedly less uptight. Masks begin to lower and/or disappear completely. Distancing is clearly not a thing as people tend to queue up uncomfortably close. While in the queue at immigration, I found myself using my small rolling suitcase to create space between me and fellow passengers.

To be honest, it’s hard to know how to play it. At the time of this travel, I had a single dose of AstraZeneca which meant I was partially protected. But apparently I can still transmit the virus. You don’t want to be careless but there are some measures that I think are a bit over the top, particularly when you’re outside. Anyway, I tried to strike a balance throughout the trip.

* * *

The time in Mogadishu would be about five days. Day one was rather chill as there were no major meetings and I used the time for a couple smaller discussions and catching up on emails. The second day was much busier as we had our bi-weekly management meeting and then a series of other meetings, both face-to-face as well as online. Day three, however, was to be the heaviest day. My team had arranged a morning meeting with the mayor of Mogadishu and their regional health focal point. And then the full afternoon would be spent at a lunch and all-staff meeting. I had concerns about both: security for the first one and Covid for the second.

it rained while we were there, always a wonderful thing in Somalia

For the trip to the “city hall”, it’s in one of the more insecure parts of town in one of the more insecure cities in the world. I’ve been through there dozens of times and each time you sort of brace yourself and hope that you don’t end up on the wrong place at the wrong time. It has its share of bombed out buildings which adds a bit to the ambiance of the journey. It’s also one of the most fascinating and beautiful parts of the city. It’s basically the “old city” and it’s nestled up against the coast. Amazing architecture is everywhere and so are the gorgeous beaches. My dream is to someday be able to walk around and soak it all in. For now, it’s armored vehicle, bullet-proof glass and armed escorts.

this was apparently a cinema back in the day; hard to photograph through well-worn bullet-proof glass

I knew the previous mayor and had met him in the same office a couple of years ago. Sadly, he was killed by a suicide bomber where we were going to be meeting on this day. While that thought did cross my mind as we made our way up the stairs to his office, I didn’t dwell on it. I had too much other stuff on my mind. I suppose it’s a bit like athletes going into a game (thinking of rugby or American football). You know that there’s a chance of injury but you can’t let that take you away from your focus.

To my surprise there was almost no wait. We went directly into the meeting. I’m told the guy was a former warlord turned politician and now reports directly to the president. I honestly don’t know much about what others think of the guy but he seemed to me to be professional and knowledgeable. I very much liked his predecessor and felt that he had some pretty solid priorities in what is arguably the toughest mayor job in the world. In any case, I was pretty impressed with this guy with what little I know about him and I wish him the best.

Before long we were back out on the streets and heading back across the city to the hotel where the staff meeting would be. We do have a fairly large meeting room in our office but it can’t accommodate the full Mogadishu team, particularly with some healthy distancing. We have about 105 staff and I was told a little over 80 would be attending this event.

I had never been to this hotel/restaurant before. It opened not long ago and is located near the airport. Everything is quite new and nice. It seemed to have good security and it’s not too far from our office. We arrived much sooner than anticipated thanks to the efficiency of the previous meeting so we were able to settle in at a table in the courtyard, have some tea and have a small break. I often don’t think to take breaks during my day, or the opportunity simply doesn’t present itself, so this was quite pleasant. The weather, usually hot, was surprisingly comfortable.

Slowly everyone assembled in the meeting hall. It was a good facility for what we needed. I had nothing to do with the planning of the event but I felt the team did a good job. The main theme was to be on diversity, equality and inclusion, which we did cover, but invariably when you open the floor the conversation goes in all directions. It was good, though, and the best part was just being able to hang out with the team for a few hours. Given how limited our interaction has been for the past year plus, it was a nice boost.

* * *

The remainder of the week was spent in smaller, internal meetings, with the exception of a meeting with a health focal point from a region adjacent to Mogadishu where we have been considering working. Somalia has a large number of youngish, well-educated people and that could bode well for the country’s future, so long as the country keeps from unraveling. I was told that the country was in a similar situation before and then the twelve-year civil war happened. Anyway, this guy seemed pretty sharp and let’s hope he gets the resources and the stability to avoid losing his motivation.

On Thursday, thoughts began to turn towards travel and getting home to see my family. I flew the UN flight in both directions this time. Commercial travel between Somalia and Kenya was suspended due to a political spat (it has since re-opened) and the UN flight was the only option. When I first went to Somalia, it and the EU flight were all I was allowed to take. But I finally gained permission to venture out and take one of these small, commercial airlines. Turns out they were perfectly fine and safe. In fact, the commercial terminal, unlike the UN container-terminal, is spacious and nice. It has comfortable seating and serves much better food options, including good coffee and baklava. With the exception of the visit of our CEO in late 2018 (which needed additional security and special logistical support), I don’t think I’ve taken the UN flight from Nairobi since I started flying the commercial flights (though it's still often necessary for internal flights within Somalia).

Nonetheless, the UN flight did its job and I arrived safely. The suspension of commercial travel meant that the terminal in Nairobi was nearly empty. I sailed through security and immigration and soon I was in the taxi headed home. Hellacious traffic due to construction meant that I would be in the taxi for the next hour and a half but it was tolerable given that I could occupy my time doing work and the comforting thought that I would soon be home.

 

Vaccination

The infrequency of my time in Somalia is largely due to Covid. The virus has wreaked havoc in the country though it’s hard to get a read on the level of devastation. Data is sketchy given that most people are reluctant to be tested and often don't get treatment when sick. The real number of those who have been infected and/or died from the virus is unclear. There have been months of attempts at sensitizing the population on the dangers of the pandemic and the need to respect the prevention protocols, including by our own organization, but all this has generally been ignored, with the exception of some awkward elbow greetings by men. Those that do wear masks are often frowned at. In fact there’s really very little to stop the virus from having its way with the population. If, or when, the nasty variants begin making the rounds, things could get ugly.

So, as I have tried to at least protect myself and others with a vaccination, I have been steering clear of international travel. We haven’t wanted to cut the queue and have waited patiently for vaccines to begin pouring into the country. But as Western countries prioritized vaccinating their own citizens first (understandable), even to the point of hording (not understandable), the pour of vaccinations into the country has remained a small trickle.

* * *

Finally in mid-April, a window opened up for us to possibly get our first dose. While enjoying a Saturday morning bike ride in a nearby forest, we received a phone call from Greece (friend who previously lived in Nairobi) who said her husband was in Nairobi for work and was somehow getting a vaccine at a local gun club. They apparently had extra vaccines and were keen to have people come get vaccinated. To be honest, it sounded a bit dodgy but she assured us that it was legit but we needed to get there within the next two hours. With little hesitation, we thought it would be worth checking it out. 

Within about an hour we were there. The gun club/shooting range is located in a beautiful location outside Nairobi, an area where we’d never been. For now it’s green and lush but I’m told that it’s getting built up fast. The Ministry of Health was indeed there and very quickly we could ascertain that this was a legitimate vaccination location. As quickly as we were able to complete the paperwork, we were escorted to receive our shots. No wait at all. We were feeling pretty thankful for our friends who hooked us up.

I did see some media there but I was more focused on the injection I was about to receive. Sure enough, later that evening we were sent a message by our friend which included video from the local news showing us receiving our vaccinations alongside narration talking about “shooters and their families.” Though we had nothing to do with the club, the presentation obviously made it seem that way.

* * *

News about vaccinations in Kenya has changed by the week. Early on there were rumors of people accessing vaccinations that had been imported privately and at a significant price. Then the COVAX shipments came and the hope was that at least those on the front lines and most vulnerable would get vaccinated. There were rumors that government officials were prioritizing themselves and their families and that some of these vaccines were being provided to (i.e. sold to) non-prioritized people at a profit. Then more vaccine donations arrived in country and rumors circulated that this clinic or that one was providing vaccinations. As much as we wanted the prioritized people to get theirs first, we kept hearing of people refusing to be vaccinated. As time went by our own acquaintances were starting to get vaccinated. It was sort of stressful not knowing when there would be a legitimate opportunity, or if the opportunities we were hearing about were really happening and whether or not we would be eligible. We certainly didn’t want to leave an opportunity “on the table” if it were to be presented to us.

* * *

At the time we had the first dose, there was an assumption that the supply of vaccines would continue such that the second dose would not only happen but it would happen before we would leave on holiday in July. But as time went on, and as the Covid situation deteriorated in India, it became increasingly clear that the AstraZeneca they were exporting would need to be dedicated to their own population. Our ability to get our second dose was suddenly not looking good.

In conversation with my staff in Somalia, the idea was proposed to me to get my second AZ shot in Mogadishu. COVAX shipments had arrived in the country and people, including prioritized frontline healthcare workers (sadly even some of my staff) were turning out to be reluctant to be vaccinated. They said they could make it happen since we were supporting the vaccination campaign. I was intrigued by the idea, particularly if there was a chance that vaccines may go to waste, as we have seen in some other countries, but I wanted Priya to have the shot as well – and she would not be coming to Mogadishu.

As I was pondering this, I received an internal work communication stating that the UN was beginning a vaccination campaign for their staff, partners and dependents. Given that we are a partner, we would be eligible. That seemed like a better option and it would give my wife a chance to be vaccinated as well. The concern there would be timing. The UN tends to move at a glacial pace and we very much wanted to get the second shot before traveling in July.

* * *

Then in mid-June we heard that a couple of large hospitals were providing vaccinations. We had no way of verifying if this was true but we had some friends who had their second shot and they suggested we at least try. The next day, a Thursday, I had some meetings but I told Priya that we could take an Uber and I could try to take the calls as we went (assuming that we would be facing considerable waiting).

So off we went. A friend of ours joined us as we set out on a bit of a tour of health facilities in our attempt to get the illusive second dose. I took my first call while in the Uber and it continued throughout most of the adventure. I was basically tagging along as Priya and our friend led the way, inquiring of guards, health staff, etc. where we should go. To make a very long story short, we eventually came upon what appeared to be a nurse who took it upon herself to escort us on this little adventure. In fact, strangely, she didn’t have any idea where/if Covid vaccinations were taking place but like some sort of angel, she dropped whatever she was doing and eventually got us to where we needed to go. And then she just disappeared. There we were with a relatively short line of people and confirmation that we were indeed in the right place.

Within a half hour we were providing our IDs and getting nearer to the lady with the needles. In fact I received the text message “Congratulations on receiving your dose…” from the MoH before I even received my shot. Some things here are surprisingly efficient. Some things are surprisingly not. This was the former.

As I think about all the scrambling that we did to get vaccinated, and there are so many people who have easy access but refuse to consider not only themselves but society as a whole, I'm astounded by the scale of selfishness. 

"It is not what we do, but also what we do not do, for which we are accountable." - Molière (1622-1673)

Naivasha

A few weeks ago we went camping. Rainy season can be a tricky time to try to camp but, with the exception of a short rain during one of the nights, we came out unscathed.

camp is set

The country was in lockdown which meant that travel within the country was limited. Our girls were on school break and, before the lockdown was announced, we had planned on going to the coast. But the restrictions meant that we had to stay within the vicinity of Nairobi. While this was broadly defined, meaning you could travel a bit, it prevented us from considering any beaches and most of the national parks in the country.

sunrise from the campsite

As such, we opted on exploring closer to home. Lake Naivasha is a couple hours away but within the restricted travel area. We had camped there before, and enjoyed it, so we thought that it might be a good backup plan. We coordinated the trip with another family (always good when you have kids similar in age) and headed out for a three-night trip.

looking from Crater Lake towards Lake Naivasha and Mt. Longonot

The drive is not long but Kenya’s going a bit crazy with road construction these days. Nairobi has a long-standing reputation for being a driver’s nightmare. As with many cities, evolution of roads seems to have happened without much thought. There are a few streams going through the city that serve as geographical obstacles and force traffic to be funneled through a limited number of arteries. Rapid economic growth has permitted a larger number of people to own vehicles. Construction of large buildings is approved without corresponding improvements in infrastructure.

small army of kids

Included in these belated road enhancements is the building of an elevated, limited access highway that bisects the heart of the city. It’s a massive and endless construction site that is making a bad situation far worse. And the jury is out as to whether or not it will have any long-term positive impact on Nairobi traffic. It’s supposed to be a toll highway which means that the rich will rapidly move about the city while the poor and middle class will suffocate in noxious fumes in the snarled traffic below. A light rail train would have been the preferred investment but that tends to benefit the poor (and the environment), which doesn’t seem to be a priority.

colobus monkeys

We were eventually clear of Nairobi and it felt good to get out. Given that we live in the middle of the city, by the time we reached the end of the urban sprawl, we were halfway to our destination. Soon thereafter, unfortunately, we came to a standstill as we came upon an accident blocking the highway. Nairobi highways are notoriously dangerous. People go to great lengths to pass slower vehicles and it often doesn’t end well. Eventually we were able to get through but the carnage was sobering, including at least one casualty. We did our best to distract the girls from seeing it and I think we were only partially successful.

fish eagle

Prior to arriving at the campground, we stopped to see some friends from Nairobi who had rented a house near the lake. I had no idea where we were going before we arrived and I was surprised to see how stunning the place was. It was sort of an old school, massive property that is supposedly owned by someone in the flower business. They are out of town part of the year and while they’re gone they rent out a couple houses that are on the property (though not their main house). 

tough to leave this and go pitch a tent

It’s pretty amazing. Beautiful pool, stables, tennis court, gym (not open and a bit rundown but probably cool back in the day), sunken trampoline, boats, etc. The owners appear to be crazy rich. But the place is beautiful and tastefully done, sort of like I would have done if I had endless amounts of money 😊. One of the worst things in the world is the selfish rich person. Worse than that is the selfish rich person who has no taste (think Trump). Not the case with these people.

Kinaya taking in the view

After lounging, swimming and enjoying the gorgeous gardens for an hour or two, we were off to camp. Probably not the ideal order to do things. It makes you feel a bit more ho hum about the whole camping thing. But once we arrived, pulled all the stuff out of the car, we quickly shifted into camping mode. Just as it was getting dark, the tents were pitched and everything was in place. We opted against a campfire given that it was late, and the fact that we were having dinner at a fun Italian restaurant less than a hundred meters away. Okay, so we weren’t exactly roughing it.

camp breakfast the easy way

After a nice dinner we made our way back to the campsite. As we were getting ready to crawl into our bags, a hippo made its way near the campsite, loudly chomping on grass. We had camped there before so we know that they tend to do this. But it’s pretty crazy just the same. Here is the deadliest animal in Africa and there’s nothing between us but a tiny, electrified fence, something that he could smash to the ground quite easily. But apparently they just keep to themselves, munching in the dark of night.

The next day we were up early and headed to a place called Crater Lake. I’ve been to the one in the US state of Oregon and this is quite modest in comparison. In fact our plan upon arriving was to join with the two families from the day before and have a trek around the circumference of the lake. With an army of children, it ended up taking us a couple hours. It wasn’t strenuous but, in retrospect, it was rather ambitious for some of the children.

Crater Lake

Crater Lake is, as you might guess, part of what was a highly volcanic area in the Rift Valley area. There are hot springs in the area as well as geothermal power generation. In fact, by the end of the decade, Kenya aims to use this energy to produce over 50% of the country’s total power capacity. And it’s clean.

After the hike, we headed back to the land of the rich to have a swim and cool off. We had aspirations of cooking over the fire that night but we enjoyed the pool longer than anticipated. We shrugged our shoulders and headed back to the Italian restaurant. After getting up early and having a good hike, it seemed that we were all in agreement to take the path of least resistance. Dinner by the fire would have to wait one more day.

family photo with our tall friend

The next day we had a bit slower start. Our plan was to hire a boat/guide, head out across the lake and go to a place called Crescent Island. As you might guess, the island is so named because it also was produced by volcanic activity. Extraordinarily high water, however, has changed Lake Naivasha as well as Crescent Island. In fact the island isn’t always an island given that the last time we were there we drove to it. Now, it’s very much an island and much of the lakeside property is flooded as the lake has grown. More than 500 families have lost their homes as a result of the rising waters. The combination of the pandemic causing a drop in tourism as well as the loss of livelihoods due to the flooding is having a huge economic impact on the area. Glad to spend some money there to make at least a small contribution.

Kinaya alone with the wildebeests

The animals on the island have no predators and so people are allowed to walk around without armed protection (unlike a national park). The variety of wildlife is limited but it’s still so cool to walk around, just hanging out with giraffes, wildebeest, zebras, etc. Much different from being in a safari vehicle. The only problem was that my sneakers had fallen apart the day before as we were completing the hike around the lake (thankfully not before). So on this occasion I resorted to flipflops. It wasn’t ideal but it was all I had. Thankfully it’s more of a casual stroll for a couple hours and nothing strenuous.

waterbuck

It’s such a good thing to do with kids too. It’s rather easy and accessible. No matter how long I spend watching these animals, I never tire of it. Our girls have been going on safaris since they were born and, happily, they’ve grown to love this sort of thing as well. As they get older, and move on with their lives, it does make me wonder how they’ll look back on this rather international childhood, with the safaris and regular trips to play by the Indian Ocean. It’s considerably different from my youth so we sort of make this up as we go. So far, so good I would say. But we’re still only about halfway through our task of raising dependents.

young Thompson's gazelles

That evening we finally stepped up and made dinner around the campfire. We’d had full days so it was nice to finally just hang out and not go anywhere. The kids made s'mores and it was more or less the classic camping experience.

s'mores

hippo passing by the campsite

The next morning we broke camp, albeit slowly. We decided that we would time it so that we could have lunch at a good restaurant on the way and then continue on home by early afternoon, beating some of the Sunday afternoon traffic heading into Nairobi. Mission accomplished.