A Day in Somali Civil War (January 8, 1990)
mohamed
N.B. : This is for those of you who have not lived in the Somali civil
war. I decided to share with you my dairy from December 30 to March
30-only selected days. I wrote every night until I left Somalia what was
happening in Mogadishu, where I lived -most of it is what I was
hearing. I some times predicted what will follow. It does not mean that
this is actually what was happening, since I met very few eye witnesses
and very little of the official versions of the unfolding events. Again
if one is not familiar with Mogadishu city, may be there will be
difficulty visualizing some of the localities. I tried to be objective
as much as possible, but if you find me subjective here and there, blame
it on my poor English or ignorance. Please assume that I consider myself
an emancipated.
__________________________________________________________________________
It was January 8, 1990. Heavy fighting erupted again in Mogadishu
between the government forces and U.S.C. militia. Most of the fighting
was confined in the northern part of the city-Karan, Kanbo Amharo, and
in the center of the city around Wardhiglay. Most of the government
troops were in suburbs of the city or inside the Villa Somalia. The
shelling of the city by the army was very heavy and indiscriminate.
I could not understand why they were shelling the people they were
supposed to protect. The people who paid their salaries. Their children
and mothers. Helpless civilian who need no power or has any ambition
beyond daily survival. People who had no where to go. For what? Just to
keep in-power one man who has no right to rule and took the power by
brut force? A man who is afraid to lose his power while people were
losing their lives. A man who has no regret or shade tears for dying
weak and innocent? A man who forced thousands to flee their country?
Most of my area, Kasa Populare was quiet but deserted. Only old people
remained in their homes. Neighbors came together every afternoon to
exchange news of the fighting. None of us talked about moving or leaving
our homes. It seemed we were wishing the fighting to die down before it
reaches us. But deep down we knew that it was an impossible dream.
That day we received shocking news. Sinai was burned to the ground. The
incursion
of the U.S.C. forces increased and they were attacking government troops
stationed in several areas. They took National Navy Headquarters and the
Navy was regrouping at the old sea port area. We were also heard that
the government forces had started raping and looting the civilian
population. We heard also from the people fleeing from the fighting
areas that the U.S.C. militias were more disciplined -that is before
they became killing machines and looters of the Somali nation.
From what we gathered from those people, the government troops were
considering all Hawiyes as enemy and members of USC. That was a bad sign
for me. It was the beginning of the escalation of the war. It was also a
sign of the defeat of the government forces.
The government thinking of involving all Darods in the war was a very
dangers proposition. I knew there were a big antagonism and dissent
among the Darods. The Majertens were the people who started the
opposition movement against the government by allying themselves with
the traditional Somali enemy - Ethiopians. Their SSDF front has fought
for long time alone with government. They suffered greatly in the hands
of the government troops led by the Marehans. Their position was 禅he
enemy of my enemy is my friend.' It was clear their sympathy was with
USC.
The Ogadens had also grudge against the Marehans. In the Souther
provinces around Kismayo, the Ogadens were very much subjugated by the
army carrying government orders. After they formed the SPM front the
response from the government was to burn Ogden water wells, take their
animals and property and rape their women.
The Dhulbahantes had no enmity toward anyone in-particular, but the
Majertens and Ogadens were accusing them of allying themselves with the
Marehans. In fact the Majeerteens asked the Dhulbantes to help them in
their war against the government since they are close cousins than the
rest of the Darods-Hartis.
About 4:00 p.m., I went to Bakaraha market to buy some food.
Approaching the market I heard a loud commotion. As I came nearer and
nearer the noise got louder and louder. Finally the market came to my
view with huge crowd dancing and throwing their hands in the air in
unison. I knew there were no Darods among them and if they find out who
I am, I will be a dead man. I was very much frightened. Some of them saw
me coming and it was impossible to go back Then I heard shouting, a
dreadful shouting commanding me to stop. I looked quickly right from
where the command was coming and I saw a man pointing a gun at me and
several others standing beside him holding their guns loosely.
One of them handed his gun and came toward me and shouted, "Put your
hands on your head and turn back and don't move."
I obeyed his orders with heavy breathing and he began searching me. I
could hear others ordering him "Look for an ID. He could be Marehan.
Who knows we could be lucky."
Another one added, " Do you think they are so stupid to carry an ID with
them today?"
He could not find any thing. I was only carrying thousand Somali
shillings I brought with me to buy food. He announced that it is save
for them to come closer. Others joined us and their interrogation
began. "Who are you and were are going?"
I said, "I am a civilian and I came to buy some food."
The questioning continued for several minutes and finally they decided
to let me enter the market. I joined the dancing crowed. I was very
much scared. I was afraid of someone in the crowd recognizing me and
just by pointing his finger at me I will be turned into dust. I watched
an old man, more than seventy, dancing and singing surrounded by the
crowd. He was shouting words of congratulation and encouragement to the
USC and Hawiyes. The crowd was repeating his words after him jumping in
the air and hitting their feet on the ground sending clouds of dust
upward turning the air gold. The women were chanting in a chorus after
the old man and clasping their hands producing a rhythm for the dancing
men.
The old man repeated, "USC! USC! USC!"
The crowd, "HannolatoUSC! Hanoolaato USC! USC!"
Old man followed, "Guusha ayaa leh?"
The crowed," USC baa guusha leh?"
The old Man, "Gobanimada yaa keenay?"
The crowed became frantic and repeated without stop,"USC ! USC !!"
I slowly drifted from the crowed covering half of my face with the
訴mama'(head dress). On my way home, I wondered how much of their
feeling was different from the day they got their independence from the
Italians. I wondered whether the Somalis were many nations colonizing
each other or clans who were not ready for nationhood and were
confused, manipulated by few who were perusing their personal interests.
I wondered what they were expecting from their newly attained freedom.
Abdi Daud
>Subject: A Day in Somali Civil War (January 8, 1990)
>From: mohamed <moh...@ninenet.com>
>Date: Sun, Feb 8, 1998 16:41 EST
>Message-id: <34DE2680...@ninenet.com>
Dear Mohamed,
Very interesting?!! Are you sure this was on 8th Jan, 1990? or?!!.
Ina Da'ud.
Laila Hassan
Mohamed,
I have not witnessed the civil war in Somalia as I left the country
before it started. At that time all the clouds of war were there and as
you described the regime was killing innocent people to keep in power.
Anyway, I enjoyed reading your story of january 8, 1990.
Laila Hassan