Mogadishu

After being back in Nairobi for a few days, I prepared for my return trip to Somalia for the first time since March. There was some debate about whether or not it would be wise to go given the pandemic in addition to the country entering into the insecurity of a rather contentious election period. There had been a series of attacks in the capital the days leading up to the trip but my head of security, the head of the Mogadishu office and I were all in agreement that we would limit my movements and make the trip relatively low risk.

The first bit of preparation was the PCR test. I hadn’t had one throughout the pandemic thus far. I hadn’t traveled internationally. I hadn’t been in contact with anyone that I knew to be infected and I hadn’t had any suspicious symptoms. So better to leave the tests to those who need them more. 

I would be traveling with a colleague, Willem, a former fellow that has become a full-time staff. Due to the limitations of his year-long fellowship, he wasn’t ever allowed to travel to Somalia. Some might think this to be a perk rather than a constraint, but generally these fellows have a hunger to get involved and be a part of work on the ground, an opportunity you would have if you were assigned to most other countries. So when he became a regular staff a few months ago, he was no longer under the constraints of the fellowship. The only problem was that it was in the middle of a pandemic so he still hadn’t been able to go. When I told him that I was likely going in late November, he jumped at the chance to come along.

We went to an uncomfortably crowded clinic for the PCR test. I’ve been quite successful about respecting Covid protocols and avoiding groups of people. I thought to myself that it would be a shame to contract the virus while getting a test. On the upside, I suspect that most of the people in the clinic were getting tests in order to travel rather than because they were symptomatic. Of course I scanned the indoor/outdoor facility to see if anyone looked or sounded ill, just in case. I received my PCR results within 24 hours which was impressive. I was told that in most of the US, that’s not likely to happen. Willem’s test took a bit longer but in the end we were both negative and we were off at 4:30 on a Monday morning.

I have become acquainted with many of the people I encounter through my international commute. From the taxi (the taxi company that we have used for years was apparently a pandemic casualty so we are now contracted with a different company, thus I didn’t know this guy – in fact he didn’t even know where terminal 2 was.), to the check-in agents, snack bar staff, some of the airport security, flight attendants, etc. Some recognized me, even with a mask, and welcomed me back after eight months. I’m sure they’re happy to see some of the travel demand coming back.

We arrived in Mogadishu and soon were in our armored vehicle/armed escort heading to the office. There had been some rain in previous weeks but now it was dry and hot, though not as hot as I was expecting. It felt good to be back.

As we arrived at the office, it was a warm welcome after all this time. Willem was finally able to meet all of these staff that he has been working with for over a year. It’s a phenomenon that is common around the world – developing virtual relationships without any “real” contact. I’m sure that was one of the more satisfying aspects of the trip for him. Even for me. Though I knew all these people well, it’s been rather frustrating to work with them exclusively via web meetings. There’s no question that it changes the interpersonal exchanges, particularly in the context of Somalia.

The one thing that we needed to start sorting out was whether or not it would be wise to step out to visit some activities and meet with staff in one of the clinics. I definitely wanted Willem to have a chance to see some of Mogadishu, other than the airport compound and the two kilometer stretch to our office. These consultations generally involve only a couple of key staff for obvious reasons. The exact route is determined between our security focal point and the private security team just prior to heading out. The particular clinic that I chose to visit was selected based on the fact that it is on the opposite side of the city (allowing Willem to get a good perspective of what Mogadishu is like) and provides a nice cross-section of the services that are being provided. The IDP camps (areas where the those who have been displaced by conflict, natural disaster, etc. are residing) are less accessible for security reasons. One of the health facilities that we support is in an IDP area closer to the outskirts of the city and is a great example of the support being provided to these people who are in desperate need of these services. I’ve been there several times and we even took our CEO there a little over a year ago but there have been a few attacks there recently and we decided that it wasn’t worth the risk.

It was around 9:30 when we arrived at the hospital. It’s a good time to visit since that is when it’s the most active. People arrive from about 7am when it’s cooler and things taper off in the afternoon. Everyone was wearing a mask. Many women in Somalia wear a niqab anyway (Muslim face covering) so it’s an easier ask for females. Men, however, aren’t as keen on such an obligation.

The visit went very well. We used to limit our time visiting facilities to 20 minutes for security reasons. Nowadays we’re a bit more flexible. It sort of depends on the perceived risk at the time. On this day, and because we had a little extra time, after the visit we sat in some plastic chairs and spent a few minutes talking to the hospital management, some were our staff and some were Ministry of Health staff. It was a rare time to just sit under a tree, listen to what they have to say and ask them some questions. I was told later that they really appreciated it. It’s good for me to know since we’re so used to moving quickly, justified by security protocols and busy schedules, and we need to think through how we can build in ore time like this without compromising security.

From the hospital we made our way to the coast. I’m a huge fan of Mogadishu’s old city and the nearby lido area. It’s rich with history and beauty. It’s also something that outsiders rarely get to see. 

When I talk to people about Somalia I always try to balance it out between the good and the not-so-good. Africans in general get very tired of the negative way it is portrayed in the rest of the world. I’ve been sensitive to this since I’ve lived here and have tried to avoid the photos and stories of starving babies, natural disaster and disease. Because I’m a humanitarian worker and because these things do exist, it would be dishonest to avoid the topic entirely but it’s important to also talk about the cultural richness and stunning beauty that makes this such an amazing continent.

Case in point, the Indian Ocean coastline of Somalia. We went to the restaurant on the coast where I have been on several occasions. It’s a striking contrast to the web of security checkpoints, bombed out buildings, plethora of weaponry, poverty, etc. as you make your way there from the hospital. It’s such a peaceful and wonderful location. Stunning view. Great food. The contrast remains in view as you’re flanked by armed guards but it doesn’t take much away from the tranquil setting (particularly if you’ve become accustomed to it). Somalia is a country of contrasts. Sometimes, adjacent to a bombed structure, you have a modern, new building that has sprung up revealing that the country is indeed pressing forward, in spite of its troubled past (and troubled present).

On the way back to the office I received a call/invitation to meet with the director of one of the major hospitals. Always with these things I consider the security, usefulness, time, etc. implications. In this case it made sense, and it was on the way. I had never been to this hospital before so it was an opportunity to have a better perspective about what they are doing given that we occasionally partner with them. We had a nice chat with the director and some of his team. While there one of my team suggested we inquire about getting a PCR test, something that we were needing to do anyway prior to catching our flight back to Nairobi. Within minutes a nurse arrived with all the necessary gear and we were quickly swabbed. The results would arrive the next day. Once again, efficiency that you don’t see in other countries, including the US.

I had intended on limiting my external visits/meetings as much as possible. It is “election season” and most government officials are preoccupied with the necessary posturing and networking. It’s also a time where there is generally a spike in insecurity. You don’t want to find yourself in the work place at the wrong time. The other concern, of course, is Covid given the uncertainty around the data and the prevalence of the virus (and the fact that people are almost completely ignoring the Covid protocols). But I received another invitation, this time to meet with the director of the country’s largest hospital. In fact, if you’re going to bend your rules on external visits, hospitals are not bad options. They are about the only place where people do a decent job of respecting pandemic protocols.

We have been supporting this hospital throughout the pandemic. We’ve provided protection equipment (PPE) and other items necessary to support the response. I had only met the director recently so I didn’t know her well. But I’ve heard good things and the visit confirmed them.

We chatted briefly in her nice office before heading to the Covid ward. It was mostly empty but we had a chance to see the well-equipped facility which will, hopefully, be repurposed post-pandemic. It had piped in oxygen (no cylinders) which is nicer than many Western hospitals. The entire hospital was clean and well organized. I was quite impressed. We even had chance to visit their new neonatal ICU (scheduled to open the following day). We also support a reproductive health clinic so it was nice to see how that was going. Contraception is a delicate topic in Somalia. Some forms are not even available in the country. We tend to focus a lot on birth spacing (in the interest of the health of the children) and unfortunately can’t really talk much about families’ ability to provide for large families. But all indication is that the country is making progress and the health of children is improving.

As we left the office we drove on the street where the massive attack was in Oct. 2017 where over five hundred people were killed. There remains little to indicate that such an attack ever happened. Most of the shops have been rebuilt in the blast that flattened an entire neighborhood. I don’t pass through the area very often so when I do, I find it rather sobering. Most streets in the city have experienced some sort of attack but none on that scale.

The next day we headed back to the airport. It’s always a relief to make it to the departure lounge knowing I’m headed back to be with family but with all the tensions around the elections and the ever-present pandemic, it was even more so. Willem reminded me in the lounge that it was Thanksgiving. It had completely slipped my mind over the past several days. It’s not a big holiday for us not living in the US for so many years but I usually don’t forget it entirely. In any case, it was a pleasant thought that I would be home in time to be there for Thanksgiving evening. Turning the corner towards the holidays.

Watamu

In late October we went to the coast for a few days given that the girls had some vacation. It’s tough to talk about taking a holiday given that so many people are suffering these days. I’ve talked to many who are reluctant to post anything that shows them enjoying themselves. At the same time it’s probably what we need. If all we see are depressing accounts of disease and hatred, it will continue to feed the negativity. So, here’s an attempt at some positivity.

Our daughters’ school seems to have vacations at odd times compared to other schools in Kenya. It’s often difficult to take advantage of this as a family due to my work obligations. This time I decided that we could take advantage of the ability to travel within the country and escape the confines of our apartment. We’ve been rather good at respecting the Covid protocols and staying home a lot so a change of setting was much welcomed, even if I would need to work.

One of the positives about working from home is that you don’t always need to be home. Technology has improved to enable one to carry out work obligations from a variety of locations. This has been enabled by big changes in technology over the past few years. I can only imagine how different things would have been if Covid had hit even five years ago. In Kenya and Somalia we’ve seen improvements not only in how widespread access has become but the speed has increased to support much of the technology being used to communicate effectively. I was able to access email in the hotel, on the beach, on a boat, etc. (I was usually in a room in the hotel where I could get the best connectivity).

It’s not fun to be focused on work while everyone around you is at play. But I needed to continually tell myself that there are far worse places to work and that I would have ample time in the evenings and on the weekend to hang out with family.

We decided on the town of Watamu as our destination, a small coastal town in Kenya, north of Mombasa. It’s known for its Marine National Park and Reserve, nice beaches and interesting coastline. We hadn’t been there before so it was an opportunity to explore a new area.

Masked arrival into the Malindi airport

Tourist destinations in the country have suffered during the pandemic just like everywhere else. They were given a reprieve a few months ago as the government opened up domestic travel. At that time, tourists were limited to residents of Kenya but as international travel opened, a small trickle of foreign travelers have added to what is still a rather depressed sector. Though disparities between the rich and the poor in the country are rather stark (and growing), Kenya nonetheless has a rather strong upper-middle class that are as important to tourism in the country as international travelers. As such, unlike many countries in Africa, the majority of the other tourists staying in our hotel were Kenyan.

The airline was on top of things regarding Covid preparations. It was good to see since you’re aware you’re taking a bit of a risk in traveling. Masks were required everywhere. The flight attendant would let you know if your mask wasn’t on. I felt they did a good job of managing a tough situation and one that is critical to keeping at least part of the economy moving.

Spoiled children

The hotel was also quite strict. Staff did a pretty good job of setting the example with masks and distancing the exception of some of the gardeners who weren’t always wearing their masks properly. But that’s not the end of the world given that they were always outside and usually a safe distance away anyway. They had a buffet but it wasn’t self-service. You said what you wanted and they would plate it for you. Generally speaking, it was mostly low risk. In retrospect, the pain points were probably the airplane (no mandatory PCR test for domestic flights) and taxi to and from the airport (drivers wear masks and the windows are open but it’s still close proximity).

During the day I would sit under a fan in a semi-open space with electricity and internet, getting work done and having meetings from time to time. I had access to nice coffee and a view of some weaver bird nests. It was a pleasant enough way to do what I had to do but by the end of the day I was more than ready to rinse off the tropical stickiness and hit the pool.

The beautiful weaver bird

 

The dolphin/snorkeling excursion

On one day we decided to take a boat trip to see dolphins and go snorkeling. While waiting for the boat, low tide afforded us a chance to see some eels. I’d seen them before while living in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania. Some of the nearby islands had small pools where the eels would hang out. They’re like super fat water snakes.

After about a half hour in the boat, just outside the reef, we caught glimpse of the dolphins. I think I’ve only seen dolphins in the wild once before and that was on a deep sea fishing trip while living in Dar. I went whale watching a couple of times while living in Monterey, California, and I think this was just as much of a thrill.

On the way back to the reef where we were going to snorkel, the waves were a bit choppy. A couple of people were visibly ill, one lady throwing up over the side of the boat. Her friend had other plans than caring for her sick friend. She made a pathetic and brief attempt to care for her ill partner before peeling off a layer to reveal a skimpy, inappropriate swimsuit and headed to the bow for some selfies. It appeared that this was a premeditated photo opportunity with the turquoise Indian Ocean as a backdrop. Soon she had one of the boat staff shooting the photos for her as she worked her way through a variety of poses. Not sure if this is in his job description but I never heard any complaints.

The boat soon came to a stop, dropped anchor and we were able to put on our snorkel gear and hop in. The eastern coast of Africa has to be one of the best places in the world to snorkel/dive. It’s so amazing. The water is a comfortable temperature all year round. We had gear for the girls and were hoping they would take part but I think they were suffering somewhat from motion sickness as well. They got in the water and attempted it but were soon more interested in being back in the boat. We’ve taken them before but they’ve yet to really get into it. I think they’ll come around to it over time.

After just a few days, we were back to Nairobi. It was appearing likely that we would not be heading to the US for the holidays so we were, sadly, now making other plans, including possibly another trip to the sea.

The Reckless Courage of Youth

 Things became quite busy during the month since my last post. I’ll try to catch up. But I must first add something about what is going on in the US right now.

Since the election, the sitting president has refused to concede after more than a month of failed attempts to overturn the results. For the international community, the perception is generally that America is not the pillar of democracy and respectability that it once was. In short, the longer it drags out, the more pathetic it looks. The electoral college meets next week so that might be the last nail in the coffin of these efforts and allow the country to move forward on the monumental task of repairing itself and its image abroad.

The one sad thing that persists is the resistance in the US to basic pandemic mitigation protocols. Again, looking at the US from the outside, the ignorance and/or selfishness is stunning. The world used to hold the country in high esteem and over the past year it’s really been Make America Embarrassing Again (an acronym not easy to pronounce). Worse than that is led by people who claim to have a faith based on loving your neighbor as yourself. Yet they are willing to allow millions to be sick, hundreds of thousands to die to avoid some temporary inconveniences. History will not be kind to them.

Related to this, Idaho has made the world news for a few things during the pandemic. One is the spike in cases and the overwhelming impact on the healthcare system in many areas. My family has been hit by Covid and I find myself being resentful of people, particularly people of faith, who continue to behave selfishly and in contradiction to their said beliefs. Looking at countries where the population stepped up and didn’t throw tantrums about doing the right thing, many are now going to spend Christmas together and are attending large sporting events. Who knows how many lives have been saved as a result of solid leadership and a population that has a basic respect for one another.

A related story appeared on both the Huffington Post and Washington Post this week regarding an incident in Idaho where minutes into a public health district’s virtual meeting to vote on a local mask mandate, a county commissioner tearfully excused herself after getting a phone call that anti-mask protesters had surrounded her home. She said her 12-year-old son was home alone and there were protesters banging outside the door. She left abruptly to go home and make sure he was okay. The visibly upset commissioner left her colleagues at the meeting stunned. They soon learned that protesters had gathered outside the Central District Health office and one other board member’s residence as well, targeting the public officials who were meeting virtually from their homes and private offices as a precaution amid the worsening pandemic. The protestors are vile human beings.

Earlier the same day, Nazi stickers with the words “we are everywhere” were found on the Idaho Anne Frank Human Rights Memorial in Boise. Even more horrid.

The question is whether this type of evil was always there at this level and people now feel they have a green light to act upon it, or if this is something new-ish. It’s likely a combination of the two. Either way, it’s ugly and the evil is being fostered by leaders at multiple levels. It makes me think of the response by many Americans as Islamist extremism has been on the rise. Many have felt that moderate Muslims don’t speak out enough to condemn the frequent attacks – that by their silence they have been complicit. If they would only speak out, they say, the instigators would be deprived of the support and resources necessary to continue their actions.

Now we’re seeing right-wing conservative extremism on the rise in the US. I’m aware that many, if not most, conservatives don’t agree with the tactics of the more extreme but they maintain this same silence regarding these extremist factions. Is the inability for conservatives to speak out against extremism due to fear of recrimination, similar to the situation of many Muslims? Are they afraid of the hooligans showing up at their doors as they did these county commissioners? Maybe. But they are creating an enabling environment of threats, intimidation, violence, etc. and this is not going to end well.

We’re all familiar with the excellent quotes by MLK and others regarding people who do nothing in the face of evil and are therefore complicit in the evil itself. But it requires the integrity to honestly look at what is going on and decide if what is going on is consistent with what one believes. If not, then what? C.S. Lewis said, “Courage is not simply one of the virtues but the form of every virtue at the testing point, which means at the point of highest reality.” This is undoubtedly a testing point and, though it requires courage from all sides, for those who have woken up and found themselves on a team that has gone off the rails, in my opinion they will have the higher responsibility to either continue to foster the hate or muster the courage to speak out against it.

I am admittedly pessimistic. I’ve seen little evidence of people willing to rise up within the ranks of conservatives to speak out against not only evil within their ranks but tendencies which fly in the face of conservatism itself. There are some but they are few relative to the overall force behind the far right. Politicians, irrespective of their true personal convictions, have made political and/or economic calculations to ride the extreme wave, at least for now. Moderates have been pushed aside. The sheeple continue to adopt what they are told by extreme media and pundits.

Some believe that there will be a tipping point that will sober people up and snap a critical mass out of their hateful stupor. Though the Civil War did not remove the hatred of people that had wrapped their Christianity around slavery, it was a tipping point that resulted in the 13^th Amendment. The Civil Rights Movement was another tipping point that contributed to breaking the pattern of public facilities being segregated by race and achieved the most important breakthrough in equal-rights legislation for African Americans since the Reconstruction period (1865-77), even though hatred and bigotry continued.

At my most optimistic, I tend to think it will be more of a slow, methodical erosion of untenable positions, possibly cultivated by a youth that is tired of their parents’ BS. When I look at the Civil Rights Movement and the youth that were fed up with the fact that their parents had morally fallen asleep at the wheel, I could imagine another imperfect movement to reel in the sins of parents who again mistakenly feel that they are on the right side of history. Though many older and wiser people will continue to do their part, it could be the reckless courage of youth that will need to come save the day. Godspeed.