Without fair and transparent recruitment system, poverty is here to stay.

A colleague walked into office this morning and asked if I could help him be part of an interview panel for Management Information System's assistant position. I really didn't have time and don't particularly like interviewing. He is a nice guy so I felt bad to say no and went along. 

There were 4 candidates and the first one was so bad, I instantly regretted my decision. Shud have told him I was too busy and couldn't help, lol. The poor candidate was clueless and I don't know how he even got shortlisted to 4 out of 87 applicants! 2nd candidate walked in confidently, better. He was much better but he struggled to understand the questions in English, we had to repeat few times. When he got the question right, he gave very good answers. I thought maybe he was nervous. 

Candidate 3 was a female. I was excited she made it to the shortlist and looked forward to meet her. She walked in painfully shy and inaudibly greeted us. I thought, shit! Shy like that she might not make it to the end of the short interview without bolting out of the door. But she totally surprised me! She stayed very calm, focused and answered the questions with confidence and precision. I was like, damn! She knew her stuff, studied ICT at Hargeisa University (had no idea they had an ICT department, am going to visit), and then worked for a local NGO as their website manager. 

By the time the 4th candidate showed up, I was already sold and found it challenging to focus. I had to work hard to be fair to him and to make sure if he was better, not to miss out. He was actually good. Dressed sharp, spoke well, and gave good answers, but not a competition to the previous candidate.

At the end of each interview, the candidate is asked routine questions like when they can start, if they were selected for the job, and what was their salary expectation. To my amusement, all the male candidates, who performed worst than the girl, asked for a lot higher than she had! She was shy and asked few hundred USD lower than her pay grade! I found this very interesting and maybe a reflection of women's either low self-esteem or expectations. 

As I write this, my colleague tells me the girl got the job! Am super excited for her and even tho this is a short contract, I hope she goes as far as I think she can. 

I am excited about her win because I am constantly meeting incompetent Somalis pushed into jobs they can't perform thru clan/family or other connections. It is rare to find fair job selection process where people can compete openly and fairly and where the right candidate, despite their clan, gender, or political alliance, can make it thru the selection criteria based solely on their performance. Without a transparent, fair and open recruitment system, we are going to have key government and private sector positions filled with incompetent but well connected people who are obstacle to not only our basic development but this regions massive potential. 

From camels to weird spaceship travel, Somalis experience a culture shock.

Turns out it is not a one off incident but more common than I would like to admit. I am recognising the patterns. It starts with a clumsy security check procedure with a group of disorientated Somali travelers unable to follow basic instructions. The graceful elderly man with henna-red beard and his young male companion look composed till they had to go through the scanner and soon as they hear the beeb sound, indicating they have something metallic on them, they totally lose their cool and hurriedly remove items from their pockets, remove their shoes and belts and throw them at the table. I watch in a mixture of pity and amusement. The young man leaves the elderly man looking helpless and fends for himself. I was surprised by this as it is contrary to ‘Somali culture’, that loaded word that no one knows what it means anymore, for a more able-bodied to leave an elderly man behind.

I patiently wait for this chaotic scene to pass, go through the security check and proceed to check in. I am becoming familiar with the Somali nomadic traveler’s scenario. It is like people uprooted from their camel-travel planet and implanted in a concrete jungle with strange culture of filling forms, walking through scanners and boarding in an alien spaceship. Most of the Somali travelers I encounter at airports, especially between Kenya and Somalia, seem to be totally confused about air traveling and I am baffled by how majority of these people manage to own a passport, afford a ticket and figure out how to get to the airport, in the first place!

The check-in desk was closed so I decided to take advantage of the time and fill in the departure card. Soon as I arrived at the desk to pick up the card, I was approached by about 6 Somalis, all apart from one are deportees! They have never gone through an airport and don’t read or write. I have no choice but to fill the forms for them. First in line is this young woman who seems either super stressed or high on khat. She is unable to stand still, fidgeting with her phone and spoke to me in a broken English. I reply in Somali and she is surprised. It must be my very short hair and the way I am dressing. I fill her form, ask few questions, like why does she have a brand new Somali passport issued in Nairobi with no Kenyan visa? I tell her she better think of an answer before the immigration officer asks. The woman is so disorientated I am wondering if she has been yanked out of her hiding place this morning by immigration officers for deportation. I complete the form and ask her to sign. She refuses! She holds on to the form and looks at it seriously like I am asking her to sign her life away. A young man behind her urges her to sign and tells her that there are others in line waiting to be helped. She asks me what exactly she should sign as! I tell her to replicate the signature on her passport. Next was the elderly henna-beard man from the security check. He is polite and says he needs help filling the form because he can’t see well.  To my surprise, he has an American passport and he is dressed well. Am thinking, couldn’t he afford glasses and suspected he was also illiterate. I complete his form and he asks me to kindly also help the young man traveling with him. The young man hands me a blue paper with deportation orders issued by the Somali ‘embassy’ in Nairobi. I ask him for a passport or travel document to fill the departure card. The elderly man answers that he doesn’t have a passport and only has that “Go home”, blue letter. It was the same for the other 4 people waiting to be helped. They are being deported to Somalia and they are destined for Galkayo. I complete filling their cards, they say their thank yous and head for the immigration departure desk.

When I come back from checking-in my bags I find the disorientated young woman at the immigration being refused exit! She asks me to help her translate to the immigration officer why she has a blank new passport and how she got to Kenya in the first place. As I walk to the desk, another immigration officer in the next booth shouts out at me and asks where I am going. I politely tell her I am trying to help someone with translation but she doesn’t listen and repeated her question and asked why I am joining a full queue when she can help. I am thinking this is effing annoying and not what I want to deal with at 4am. She let’s me go soon as she realizes I can explain myself. In contrast, the officer I am translating for is very calm and polite. He must see this often enough to write a book about.  He asks reasonable questions and she provides either untrue or confused answers, which basically boiled down to her having entered the country illegally. I translate literally and in the middle of this interrogation, she kept answering her phone and spoke to some concerned family members. Both I and the officer got annoyed and I told her in Somali that she is acting both rude and suspicious and to put her phone away if she wants help. The officer asked who she is speaking to on the phone and why is her phone ringing non-stop. I then had to explain to him that she is harmless, just totally confused and to please just let her go home. Thank goodness he agrees. I wanted that young woman back to a place where she knows what the hell is going on. I don’t get it, do people like her have a family or friends to tell her to stay put where she is comfortable and safe. I am guessing she had plans to make it to Europe or North America. There is a side of me that thinks, who the hell am I to prevent her from realising her dream, if she has some beyond landing in a frozenland with gold pavements. It is a depressing situation to witness but am glad at least she boarded the flight and heading back home.

While we were in the middle of this confusion, I noticed few other side events. Like how the Sudanese man with the UN passport who looks like Somali got caught up in this and the rude female immigration officer who shouted at me started interrogating him also, lol. You are doomed if you look like a Somali at Jomo Kenyatta airport, you get some annoyed officers to take out their frustration out on you and honestly, I am slowly starting to empathise with Kenyan immigration officers. I found some of these scenes annoying even as a fellow Somali. I was losing my patience with some of the travelers, everyone needs help at every stage, it seemed. Start the change now and invest in basic literacy class. If you want travel in search of better opportunities and quality of life, by all means go ahead and do it. But for heaven’s sakes, teach yourself to read and write so you can fill your own forms at airports. You will also be able to read documents determining your life.  I want to scream about this but it is 4am and I am not fully awake to be preaching.

What I will do is write to the Somali government, if I can find the right department or person. Minister of Foreign Affairs, maybe? This is the responsibility of the Somali government and I think they should employ someone at all major Kenyan airports, especially in Wajir and Nairobi, to provide information, support and advocacy for Somali travelers. There are flights from Nairobi to all the major Somali cities at least 3 times a week and I can’t imagine how many people are stranded, end up in the wrong cities or denied entry/exit due to language and communication barriers.  

3 weeks prior, I arrived from Mogadishu to find 4 women and an elderly man in desperate need and one of the women was holding a brand new Kenyan passport but she didn’t speak a word of Swahili and was in the visa queue until I noticed her passport and asked why she is trying to get a visa for her own country. She laughed shyly and said it is her first time traveling. All of them couldn’t read or write and one of the ladies was in Nairobi to buy stuff for her business back in Mogadishu! Clearly, Somalia needs a massive literacy and numeracy campaign. How are people to make an informed decision if they are struggling with the basics? It is worrying.

Two Girls and a Podcast

Idil (from the brilliant blog http://afrolens.com) and I decided to flirt with other forms of social media, and start a podcast. The inspiration behind this stems from our conversations as two politically active Somali women who find most of the conversations around African issues too limiting, too stuffy, and not uncomfortable enough. The aim of this podcast is to deconstruct some of the discourse surrounding politricks, Why Europe ought to be nicer to coloured folks, identity politics, how to find the G-Spot, Niggas in Paris, Africa’s place in the new global order, gender identity, and other similar sexy topics in a radio format, well sorta. There are many blogs in the African blogosphere, but very little vlogs/podcasts, and we’re both fascinated by this medium. So here’s our first session, which is just an introduction to the purpose/aim of this project, and its implications. Give it a listen, and feel free to challenge/engage/troll us. Warning: annoying accents found here.


http://db.tt/m3zI8fpO

Time Somalis recognised and appreciated AMISOM's work in Somalia.

An exchange on twitter regarding AMISOM's presence in Mogadishu rubbed me the wrong way and I am amazed at the animosity towards these soldiers serving the interest of Somalia and Somalis at such a high price. They put their lives at risk and fight wars most Somalis, especially those in the Diaspora, are not willing to fight. They have massively contributed to the growing peace and stability in Mogadishu and most of them serve for a stretch of 6 months before they can go back to their families and take a break. You tell me how many Somalis in their comfortable Western countries will sacrifice their comforts to fight Al-Shabaab in a country where the AMISOM are not only outnumbered but where they can't even tell the difference between a civilian and a combatant, fighting ghostly figures hiding in the population.

Yes most of the soldiers are motivated by money and they get paid well for their sacrifices but they could have chosen to go to Iraq or Afghanistan or another messed up country in need of peacekeepers, there is no particular reason those individuals chose Somalia. 

I think these soldiers are doing a great job and my recent trip to Mogadishu has left me really impressed with what they have achieved, working with the TFG. Mogadishu was a no-go city for many years and last time I was there 6 years ago, I couldn't have walked freely in the city without armed guards but this time, I was walking around Waaberi, Wadajir and Xamar Weyne with no security at all! If it was not for AMISOM's presence in Mogadishu, Al-Shabaab would have seriously threatened TFG's weak and disorganised army. Mogadishu is slowly coming back to life and everywhere you drive you will find construction and buildings being rehabilitated, it is incredible that the outside world isn't witnessing this almost miraculous transformation, for a city written off as hopeless. 

Somalis need to recognise and support the efforts of the AMISOM and the great work they are doing in bringing back peace and stability to Mogadishu. These soldiers are cleaning up the mess we have created at a great risk to their lives and they live harsh and isolated lives in their Mogadishu baraks. Like a lot of other Somalis, I also would hate to do this job but am grateful to them for their work and for the countries who have and are still sending young men to help Somalia bring this endless war to a stop, which has has claimed so many lives and created so much misery.

Scratch break

Forget 'smoke break', in Mogadish you will need a serious 'scratch break' every 20 minutes. At least that is what I needed at that hotel with no AC in the lounge area. I would keep the AC in my room running at 16 degrees so when I can't take it anymore, I can run to my room, take off that horrid cover (personal prison), and scratch myself till my skin is burning! I don't remember Mogadishu being this hot and humid, but my memory isn't reliable. 

I found the humidity a bigger threat to my security and a potential spoiler of my plans to make Nairobi-Mogadishu a base one day. Luckily, am told it only gets this hot + humid in March and April, phew! Otherwise, I would have had to buy myself either a special body scratcher or an AC I could wear. 

Maybe Al-Shabaab had a point when they banned the bra, imagine the guy who took the time to think thru this one. I hate bras in general but when it is hot and humid, it is inhumane to make women wear bras and that Godforsaken nylon slip. And to think most of the day traders in the markets under that heat are bra-wearing human beings with nylon slips! I am surprised they are sane and look after husbands and children, respect.

Longest flight from Mogadishu to Nairobi

I reluctantly left Mogadishu this morning after a short week's visit. On the other hand, I was really glad to take a breather from the relentless heat and humidity, I have never sweated that much.

I got to the airport with just the driver, at 8am, and found myself in a bizarre fight with one of the ladies at the AMISOM security check point. I walked into the room and found 3 ladies busy with other passengers so I waited till the Ugandan officer was free, the other 2 were Somali. I found them all to be rude and have an attitude issue but kept my mouth shut. Then the Ugandan lady only searched one of my bags and walked out! I stood there to see what would happen and then one of the Somali ladies, while busy sending an SMS, made a weird remark: "She is too proud to be searched by a Somali so let her wait for the Ugandan lady to come back", referring to me! I was like, WTF woman, it is too early in the morning to pick a fight so let's just get on with it. I told her I had no reason to be too proud and if she doesn't mind to plz search by bags as I am already late for my flight. She gets more aggressive and gets up to give me an aggressive lecture about the bad attitude 'Somali Diasporas' have when they 'show up' in Mogadishu...Err! I then lose my cool and tell her to go get laid so she will be a nicer person. That didn't help, she just got madder so I had to walk out and speak to her supervisor, a calm Ugandan soldier. He must have found the whole thing too weird, having to mediate between 2 Somali women shouting at each other in Somali, not a graceful sight. 

I finally get the eff out of that place and in to the literally melting airport. Visa's are charged at 50USD and exit tax at a hefty 40USD and yet the small immigration hall doesn't have AC and the 2 toilets are filthy you would easily hold it till you get to Nairobi! Where is the money going? The airport is constantly busy with at least 2 flights 3 times a week, how come the place looks like an IDP camp?

We leave for Nairobi almost at 11, don't count on public information or an apology if your flight is late, you just have to sit there and marinate in your sweat. Flight to Wajir (the mandatory stop for any flight leaving Somalia/land for security reasons) took a short 45 minutes. We get ushered like cows into the immigration office with strict security checks, all the bags are loaded off the plane to be screened as Mogadishu still does not have screening machines. I find an elderly Somali man who has never traveled outside Somalia and doesn't speak English. He seemed weak and limped, when I asked what is wrong with his leg, he showed me a big bandage covering most of his leg to stop the stuff coming out of his swelled skin. He was going to Nairobi for treatment and his son was waiting for him there. I filled the visa form for him and translated when needed, he was so calm and patient and a gentle soul. I decided to hangout with him, maybe he can rub a bit of his gentleness on my badly wired mood this morning. 

45 minutes later we board the plane and head for Nairobi. You would think 2 screenings in Nairobi and 1 in Wajir would be enough, no. We are made to go thorough security check all over again in Nairobi. This time they have to meticulously check each name and passport photo against list of passengers given by the airline. There are 2 immigration officers, a police officer and the captain checking. We landed at exactly 2pm and by the time they were done it was 3:20! The taxi driver outside called few times but I tell him there is nothing I can do and to please wait. We get out of that hell place and I am thinking, finally, we can just walk thorough immigration since we have visas from Wajir. Turns out few people, including the elderly man with leg injury don't have visas and I will have to fill the forms all over again and wait with him till he gets the visa! So, we start the process again and when he gets his visa, it is 4pm. I am growing inpatient by the second but this sick elderly man who has never traveled and relying on strangers to help is super patient and keeps looking up from his airport wheelchair every now and then with a patient and genuine smile! How the hell does he do it? I want to shout insult at the immigration officers for putting us thorough all these stupid screenings as if we are all criminals, fucking hell. But I breath in and out and keep going.

We had another VIP passenger today, the minister of defense and 5 of his entourage, am told. They sat in first class, of course, and they were always the first to board and to alight. They didn't have to deal with any of this mess, they practically walked thorough Nairobi immigration barely checked. How privileged to be zooming in and out of airports with ease and leaving behind elderly and women with children and never complaining to authorities about how flights from Somalia are overly screened. Not even a consideration to allow the sick, elderly and those with young kids to  go thorough first. Instead, the fit and healthy minister with his bulldozers go first.

The elderly man and myself are the last to leave and collect our bags and find his sons outside. Then I realise, in the rush, I had left my ipod and headphones in one of the screening points, shit. I rush back and ask airport security. They are kind enough to send someone and they said it was found but to go to the airline office outside to collect it. I find my taxi driver, who waited for 2 hours exactly! I feel bad for him, it is no one's fault but he could have made money all those hours he sat here. He kindly agreed to come with me to the office and when we followed by 3 of the ladies who were screening our bags. I was casually handed the headphones by a gentleman I recognised also from the screening point. Imagine a grown-arse man handing you headphones without the ipod when it was clear no one else had access to them, the cheeks! I asked what happened to the accompanying ipod. He proceeded to get rude and nasty and asked if I was accusing him of having stolen it! WTF man, I just want my ipod and to get to the guesthouse. At this point, I have no more energy to fight, I pick up my headphones and get into the taxi. Enough drama for one day.


Soon as we drive out of the parking lot and towards the city, I am greeted by giraffes grazing on the side road! How amazing is this? Typical African experience, you will be driven to a point of madness and then calmed by amazing creatures that you instantly forget any problems you have had. How many places in the world do you drive out of the airport to see giraffes on the road side? Apparently, they are part of the Nairobi national park wildlife that come to graze near the airport where it gets green during the rainy season.

It also hits me during the drive to the guesthouse that my period is a week late! Damn, if only I was aware of this, I would have paid more attention to my mood and reaction to things. PMS feels like this fish looks, goddamnit.

Mogadishu Madness - Part 2

The hotel is basic but clean and with friendly staff. As we have only a week in Mogadishu, no time to waste and Sunday is like a Monday here, offices are open. We shower, have a quick bite and head to the office. It is literally 2 houses away from the hotel but because of security regulations, we have to be escorted by the same guys with guns who brought us from the airport. I don’t even try to fight this, am just happy to be in Mogadishu and gonna go along with madness. We drive for like 30 seconds and get to the office. Staff are helpful and make the time to learn details of what I am here for and offer to help by arranging visits to beneficiaries and calling the local authorities in advance. Am really grateful coz these guys can make all the difference to my trip and if they are helpful then my mission will be accomplished. 

We spend couple of hours going thru the details of the next 4 days’ visits and we choose 2 groups of beneficiaries to visit: people receiving cash relief as a result of the recent droughts and small business grants given to beneficiaries trading in local markets. We choose 3 districts: Wadajir, Xamar Weyne and Waaberi. I am particularly excited to visit Waaberi because I partly grew up there and hoped to have a chance to steal a visit to my grandfather’s house, where we lived.

There is no movement at all in Mogadishu after sunset and so the office closes at 3:30 to give staff time to get home before sunset. That gave us time to rest and prepare for a busy week. I had no idea that it was a hot and humid season, it was unbearable to wear the hijab in this heat and the only ACs are in our rooms and offices. The hotel reception and lounge area, the only place with internet access, has no AC! So you choose to sweat with your internet at the lounge or be comfortable in your room with no access to internet, nice. I would worry about that 2moro, today, am just too tired and going to bed early.

Next day we go to the office at 7:30 to learn the city is at a standstill and colleagues on the other side of town can’t come to the office. Apparently, the army is celebrating, who knows what, and they road-blocked most of the city to avoid Al-Shabaab infiltration. This means no beneficiary visits, welcome to Mogadishu, where plans change by the second. I spend the day at the office to learn more about the beneficiaries and projects I will be working with. It is also an opportunity to spend more time and get to know the staff in Mogadishu office. Am amazed by how competent, knowledgeable and helpful they are. Anything I ask, I get detailed and very helpful answer, they seem on top of their work.

Day 3 in Mogadishu, no drama and no army celebrations so we are clear to go and I am accompanied by 2 staff one male and the other female, one with the Cash Relief project and the other with the Small Biz Grants project. We start with dress code to ensure I don’t stand out by wearing the ‘wrong’ clothes. My female colleague is kind enough to bring me an acceptable and popular wear called ‘jilbaab’, only problem was, it was blood red and I felt like a walking target for Al-Shabaab, lol. She assures me I will ‘fit’ right in and no one will realize I am a ‘Diaspora’ Somali who probably have left her culture and religion behind! Cool, I am not sweating the little details and anything to get me to ‘blend in’ I will do. I dress in red and we start our visits with beneficiaries in Buulo Xuubey market in Wadajir district.