Arr Goes to Somaliland
Rasheed, ARR was born abroad and this is his first trip to Somaliland.
I have always wanted to visit Hargeisa but somehow not managed to. I collected as much information from friends who had been there as I could and debriefed as many people as possible on their return. This was, after all, the one place I couldn’t log into A Small World and get advice for. This very special journey began thirteen years ago in my heart. I had missed Somaliland ever since I paid my last and only ever visit as a young child in 1996. From the moment I had stepped on the plane I had this yearning to return. A return to where my people roam, live, and where I am truly known.
I flew in via Dubai but did not have the pleasure of spending much time relaxing on the beach as is my normal custom. Dubai was only a point of transit rather than the usual final destination and vacationing place I frequented over the past years. This time I had another plane to catch, a lot of shopping to do, and a lot of fast food to sample that I would no doubt miss during my trip to Somaliland. I stayed up out of genuine excitement the final night and very early on a Friday morning headed to Dubai Airport’s terminal two. The flight in from London landed at the newer terminal and I had only ever been to terminal two to fly to Bahrain a couple of times. What made this flight remarkable is that it was not announced on any of the departure screens. I now truly felt that I was headed to ‘Africa’s best kept secret.
I was shocked at the quality of the airline we took. I was expecting the Daallo - like experience I had heard of from many unhappy customers and from my personal experience those many years ago which is why I took an alternative. The flight crew were professional and even gave me and my fellow travel companions carbonated soft drinks reserved for Business Class. The flight crew began to go through the Airplane Safety Procedures which drew multiple jeers and laughter from the passengers who had probably only taken a plane once before on an outbound journey.
The announcement that the destination was Berbera, Somaliland also drew jeers from the many Somali passengers who would be travelling via Somaliland but only had miss-informed opinions of their neighbours to the north. The only ‘African’ moment I experienced was when one of the flight-crew poured a bucket of water on the floor and proceeded to wipe the floor with a rag in the middle of the flight. This screamed out ‘YouTube Moment!’ but I wasn’t quick enough to record the best part of what was the funniest thing I had ever witnessed on an airplane. We took up an entire row just behind Business Class which seated a few Ministers and as a result I had ample space to rest my abnormally long legs. I sat back and looked out the window at the mountains of Oman. I was now only a matter of hours away from the one place I truly considered home.
Only a few hours later the vast deep blue ocean began to meet with land. I was now flying along the coast of Somaliland and was eventually able to make out the Berbera coastline. We flew right by so that we could make our approach to Africa’s longest runway. What I hadn’t expected was a nose dive landing that was similar to the Baghdad landings I had read about. A few seconds later and rubber met tarmac.
I almost wanted to clap like I used to see when I traveled younger. We had arrived to our destination as promised and in one piece. It really did feel like an ‘Express’ airline.
On exiting the airplane we made our way to the little warehouse that was used as the arrivals terminal. I was traveling with an uncle who is a well known man in Somaliland politics as he had spent 8 years behind bars courtesy of the old Somalia Regime. The fact that he was heavily involved in politics assisted in our prompt walk through customs. It didn’t give us any other luxury because we were immediately left to the mercy of the scorching Berbera temperature without the luxury of air conditioning. After negotiating the release of our suitcases we proceeded to load them onto our vehicles. I almost wanted to ask what my luggage had ever done to anyone because the art of carrying luggage had obviously not reached here. Right up until I reached Hargeisa I felt like I was watching the Passion of the Christ and that at any moment someone was going to crucify my suitcases. After watching my prized possessions get dragged on numerous occasions, and my laptop case dropped, I insisted on doing all the lifting myself.
We left as a two-vehicle convoy because the third vehicle had overheated and was stuck in the middle of a little village on its way to us. My poor brother wanted to come welcome me to Somaliland in person but was instead welcomed to a small village without refrigerated drinks where he was stuck nearly the whole night. We headed for a quick trip into Berbera for a tasty meal of fresh fish and rice while watching the beach. I envied the children swimming in the beach and hated myself for deciding to wear jeans. The heat flattered Dubai and was probably closer to Kuwait’s summer temperatures. This barely populated and scorching city is where my Great-Great grandfather signed the Treaty with the British and I now only now wished I had taken the time to visit the museum in England where his signature is on sheep skin. After our quick meal we began our journey to Hargeisa. This journey was full of many surprises. We first encountered a man sitting and chewing in the middle of the road with two way traffic travelling at high speeds who only moved when given financial encouragement. It was only a little while longer that we were all told to pull to the side by 15 vehicles led by police which turned out to be the Presidential motorcade. I had only been in Somaliland for less than two hours and was already within a spitting distance of the man who was the head of our ever present, albeit ineffectual government. A short while later and we encountered swarms of locusts that were savaging the rural areas in what looked like a biblical scene. I shook my head and swore to myself that I had already seen the Presidential motorcade.
Golis mountains
Golis mountains
The drive in was spectacular and the Golis Range was particularly beautiful. I scratched my head and wondered if any of the nomadic people living in this area were aware that they were sitting on what is potentially billions of barrels of oil, hydrocarbons and mountains of gold and gemstones. I then made a quick prayer to myself asking God to make the bounty of the people available to them and that we are not exploited for mere political gain nor to obtain our well deserved recognition or payoffs. I then thought about the last 18 years and started to pray even harder. The reason I had began to study geology was so that I could help my people but after a few quick conversations with the locals I began to realise quickly that progress was far away.
After what felt like a ten hour drive when the AC was wasn’t working and a thirty minute trip when it started working again; I noticed the two infamous mountains that Sheikh Madar must have seen when he decided to begin his settlement here those many years ago. I could not help but feel like I was making a sort of pilgrimage to a very special place to me, my parents and my lineage. The closer we got the more the population along the roadsides grew along with checkpoints. After the horrific and cowardly attacks perpetrated by Al-Shabab recently in Hargeisa I was very supportive of the many security measures taken and the extra scrutiny my full beard and long hair drew.
As we got to the final checkpoint I could see the densely populated city in front of me. The final guard joked that ‘the summer has arrived’ when he saw me and my little British cousins that were traveling with me. The White Sands Village that was well promoted in England but not well thought out in Somaliland was on our right side a short while later and we entered the city. This is where my optimism ended.
To be continued…
By ARR.
