Mogadishu

Lots of Rain

I’m sitting at the UN in their outdoor café (covered) reflecting on the past week in Somalia. A tropical rain is pouring, and pooled water is inching its way across the floor in my direction. A thundering downpour is not a common occurrence in Mogadishu and a few people have been taking photos. I did the same on the drive from our office to the “green zone” as we plowed through water reaching the top of the tires. Drainage and sewage are terrible here so even the slightest rain can result in flooding. Given how much rain we’ve had today already, it’s certain that the city is going to be a mess. I have a flight later today and I’m glad I came early for meetings. I would not want flooding to block me from catching my flight.

powering through deep water

It’s hard to tell how widespread these rains are, but I’m hoping it is providing some relief for the drought situation. In any case, it’s a treat, particularly given the oppressive heat each day. If the sun comes out this afternoon, it’s going to amplify the humidity.

* * *

Security

After all these years of moving back and forth between Nairobi and Mogadishu, I’m as adapted to one city as much as I am the other. For the latter, it’s an adaptation that is obviously distinct from adapting to other cities. I can’t move about freely due to security constraints and I do my best to keep out of harm’s way as much as possible. But I can’t remain in a box and it’s necessary sometimes to challenge protocols as a part of our ongoing monitoring their appropriateness. Overly stringent measures will unnecessarily limit one’s ability to fulfill basic responsibilities, cutting you off from the local population. Overly loose protocols can expose you to serious danger. Finding that middle ground involves tracking the evolution of the security situation, crunching lots of data (where, when incidents normally occur) and using your instincts. This applies to me but also to the movements of our team and our local partners, albeit not in the same way.

Admittedly, the security in Mogadishu has improved in some ways. Statistically, there are fewer militant attacks. Construction and private investment have been dramatic. The city is far more vibrant than it used to be. A profile picture I took of me on the Lido beach back in 2016 shows almost no one in the background except some kids playing football. Now the beach is full of people, sometimes late into the night.

Mogadishu by night; view from our building

So far, thanks in large part to my beloved security guy, we’ve been able to get it more or less right. We did lose a colleague in a massive explosion in 2017 (which killed 512 people and injured hundreds of others), but something like that was so massive that it was unavoidable (the blast radius was large enough to damage our office building which was about a kilometer away). But overall, I feel like we’ve done a pretty good job navigating what has been some troubled waters at times.

I definitely have more freedom of movement than I did several years ago, and I also have a much better sense of what is safe and what isn’t. But the risks are still very real and no one, including my Somali colleagues, can afford to take them lightly.

What has increased is criminality. Data for this is scant since people often don’t report such things, but anecdotally and through various reports I’ve read, it’s clear that the situation is worsening.

Improving Economy?

It should also be pointed out that lots of new buildings and people on a beach do not necessarily mean that prosperity is on the rise. On the contrary, drought and reduction of aid have taken poverty levels to new heights. Unemployment continues to rise as Somalia’s high birth rate and lack of economic growth results in more and more students pouring into the market with no jobs waiting for them. Few resources are allocated to infrastructure so things like sewage and roads are in terrible condition. Water and electricity are privatized so they can at least be maintained, though accessible only to the small minority who can pay for it. And those resources are struggling to keep pace with expanding needs.

One issue is that the economy has largely been fueled by diaspora investment and money trickling in through the aid world. As the global economy is taking a hit, Somalis living abroad have less to send home and have fewer resources to invest. And as we all know, humanitarian and development took a beating over the last year or so and, for an economy as dependent on aid as Somalia, it has been devastating. Also, natural resources are scant and there doesn’t seem to be a clear path forward to replace these revenue streams. The Turks have recently begun to explore the seabed for oil, though it has been reported that, even if they are able to find decent amounts of petroleum off the Somali coast, any benefit would be years away. And there are concerns that the financial arrangement may benefit Türkiye more than Somalia.

Going Forward

As I am now in my final months of working in the country, I’m sometimes asked how I view things going forward. For the full answer, I would probably need to write a book. In short, however, it will boil down to leadership. There are certainly paths the country could take to begin to deal with these massive obstacles. But since I have worked here, the country has been so divided and subjected to a cadre of people vying for power, often through force or the threat of force, that very little energy has been devoted to bettering the country. I don’t see that changing anytime soon.

One government official I spoke to didn’t disagree. He said that as long as systems don’t exist, “we who choose to enter this playing field, do so knowing that this is what we are up against.” He said that some embrace it. Some only tolerate it. But he added that you either play the game as it is or you don’t play at all. Sort of an acceptance of the status quo but with seemingly no ability to change it.

* * *

The Mosque

On Sunday I visited the large mosque near our office. I have been a couple of times and I thoroughly enjoy it. It’s obviously a place that is not accustomed to visits by non-Somalis. I’ve been many places over the years where people stared at me because my presence was unexpected. This one stands out (as I did).

beautiful mosque on a hot day

I would not be allowed inside the mosque as a non-Muslim, but, technically, I’m free to wander around outside. There weren’t too many people around given that we timed it so that we would be there between prayer times. For the people that were there, I couldn’t tell if it they were uncomfortable or just curious, or both. I know my HR guy that accompanied me was aware and also wanted to limit my exposure. After stopping to take a couple photos, we wandered around to the back of the building, away from the main courtyard, and found a bench where we could sit and enjoy the coolness of early evening.

the "women section" of the courtyard and ocean view

Our office had an electrical fire late last week and as a result of the repairs that were underway that day, the building had no electricity and, alas, no air conditioning. Afternoon temperatures were suffocating. My phone said 33 degrees Celsius (91 F) but feels like 41 (105 F) not counting the humidity. So finding some shade and a cool breeze was very welcome to say the least.

my name as a Somali barista hears it

Inside the mosque compound there is a small café and a store. When we first entered, we went to the café to grab a drink. The last time I was there I had a cappuccino which, on this occasion, sounded good to me for some reason in spite of the heat outside. Also, there’s no menu, at least not one in English, so I thought going with something I know would complicate things the least.

In the US and other Western countries, you’re generally offered a plethora of different types of milk. In Somalia it’s usually a binary choice between camel milk and cow milk. This guy didn’t ask and, after taking my first sip, very quickly I realized that the default is camel milk. I’ve had camel milk many times over the years, but I generally wouldn’t take it in my coffee. And I try to avoid it altogether. Though it’s supposedly good for you, it has sort of a pungent, musty flavor. It’s probably best if you became acquainted with it as a child. I had it fairly frequently when I first began working in Somalia. I was trying to “go local” and not be a soft foreigner. I’m past that stage now and am comfortable opting out. But when it’s already served to me, I muscle through.