Tentative optimism in Mogadishu has been destroyed by horrific bomb blast
WE will probably never know the total death toll from last weekend’s truck bombing in Mogadishu – such was the ferocity of the blast that many victims could not be identified – but the Somali authorities say at least 300 perished.
That number makes the bomb that ripped through the heart of the Somali capital one of the deadliest terrorist attacks anywhere in the world in recent years.
The attack proved so lethal – and left hundreds more maimed – because it involved two vehicles, one a large truck loaded with some 350kg of explosives. When it detonated at a checkpoint in a densely crowded area of Mogadishu, it also set a nearby petrol tanker ablaze.
Somalia became – for many – synonymous with war, piracy and famine in the anarchic decades that followed the collapse of its government in 1991, but in recent years it had been making tentative progress despite the continuing threat from al-Shabaab, a homegrown al-Qa’ida affiliate.
Last weekend’s attack – believed to be the work of al-Shabaab though it has not claimed responsibility
– is a setback for Somalia’s fragile government and a devastating blow to those ordinary Somalis who were helping rebuild their capital.
Thousands of them took to the streets later this week, responding to a call for unity by Mogadishu’s mayor Thabit Abdi who declared: “We must liberate this city, which is awash with graves.”
When I visited Mogadishu four years ago, many residents spoke of a cautious optimism. Diaspora Somalis had started to return since al-Shabaab had been driven from the city by a joint African Union/Somali force in summer 2011. While the extremist group retained a presence in the capital – recruiting youths to carry out attacks – it had been greatly diminished. Parts of the city were witnessing a construction boom, partly powered by the returned diaspora who came back with money and dreams to invest.
New hospitals, homes, schools, cafés and hotels were popping up in once devastated neighbourhoods.
I saw couples stroll at Lido beach, where al-Shabaab once segregated men and women and banned women from swimming. One enthusiastic Somali builder even spoke about the traffic jams that now choked the city’s streets as a mark of progress.
But there were also reminders al-Shabaab was still there in the shadows, making its presence felt in Mogadishu through targeted assassinations and attacks on venues including courts, hotels and compounds where the UN and other internationals are based.
Even those who were busy investing, building and talking up Somalia’s potential admitted security was an ever-present concern – and a huge cost. The owner of a new café which sold $2 (€1.70) cappuccinos and pastries told me his biggest fear was that the café and the downtown hotel where it was located would be attacked. He paid 30 security guards to protect the premises.
The scale of last weekend’s bombing – and the questions it raised about the government’s ability to guarantee security – not only shook the city, it will also make would-be investors think twice.
SOMALIA’S president Mohamed Abdullahi Mohamed pledged to purge the country of al-Shabaab after he took office in February. No easy task. Key to not just pushing back al-Shabaab but stabilising Somalia more generally is building a proper and effective Somali army after decades of war fought along a multitude of clan faultlines.
A European Union mission – led in 2013 by Irish Brigadier General Gerald Aherne – has trained thousands of Somali soldiers so far, but much more needs to be done. And al-Shabaab is not a conventional enemy: evolving in several ways since its emergence, its ranks now even include former soldiers.
Somali investigators said the man who drove the truck in last weekend’s attack was a former soldier who joined al-Shabaab some years ago. His hometown was recently raided by Somali troops and US special forces in a controversial operation which resulted in the deaths of 10 civilians.
When I heard news of the blast, I thought of the resilient people I met in Mogadishu and what the horror of this would do to the cautious optimism I heard so much of. But I remembered what the café owner told me. “We descended to a point as low as any city can go … the only way you can go from there is up.”