Canadian risks
'everything' to make a better Somalia.
(Nairobi, January
16,
2008 Ceegaag Online)
Normally when
one is named a cabinet minister one can at least count on a
euphoric reaction from friends and family thrilled by the
prospect of good things to come.
Not for Ahmed
Abdisalan Adan, who is noticing a tone of ominous condolence
in the hundreds of voicemail messages arriving on his
cellphone from Somalis the world over. Back this week in his
broken ancestral home in a new role as Somalia's minister of
information, the 47-year-old Somali Canadian is under no
illusion of safety. Some people, quite possibly, will want
him dead.
But in many
ways, says Adan, the danger is no greater than it has been
since he abandoned his comfortable middle-class life in
Ottawa eight years ago to pioneer Horn-Afrik, Mogadishu's
first truly independent radio station. Seven of his
colleagues were assassinated in that span, including the
bombing death last August of Somali Canadian Ali Sharmarke,
with whom Adan co-founded the station.
"When I
listen to my phone messages I can hear people praying for
me," Adan told the Star
in an interview in Nairobi last week in what may
well have been the last day of his life without a bodyguard.
"It is not
like in Canada, where becoming a cabinet minister is an
upgrade, economically, socially and politically. In Somalia,
becoming a cabinet minister means you are taking a huge risk
with your reputation, with your life, everything. But it
also means you have a chance to actually do something to
make it better."
Home for now
will be the south-central town of Baidoa, where the
fledgling United Nations' backed Transitional Federal
Government clings to a foothold, readying to negotiate its
way into renewing its grip on chaotic Mogadishu.
There, Adan
hopes to instil in government the same sense of national
unity that earned HornAfrik the 2002 Canadian Journalists
for Free Expression award for exceptional courage, a
citation that recognized the difficulty of telling the truth
despite threats and intimidation from rival militia
warlords.
"When things
are this bad – and there is no doubt this past year was the
worst ever for Somalia – I believe there is also a new
opportunity for hope," said Adan.
"The
international community and the regional players are
beginning to show an interest again, understanding that you
can't just step aside and watch dirty wars play out. And
among Somalis, there is a level of fatigue that suggests a
readiness to try things a different way. It is time to
create opportunity for a better life, because that is all
that 95 per cent of Somalis want in this world."
Adan and his
colleagues already managed this on a microscopic level,
bringing unprecedented opportunity to an estimated 300 young
Somali journalists who passed through HornAfrik's training
program since it erected its first signal tower in Mogadishu
in 1999. The results put the station on the map, giving
Somalis a taste of national identity that had nothing to do
with tribal politics.
"The goal was
to put all the voices in the Somali tent on the air and we
succeeded, against all odds. We were challenged, we got shut
down, we got shot at. We lost good people. But we also
proved something profound – we proved that the clan was
simply a place that people retreated when they were in
trouble," said Adan.
"When people
had another opportunity, they immediately stepped out of
their tribal identity and simply became Somalis. HornAfrik
became a magnet for hundreds of desperate young Somalis who
knocked on our door, aching for a chance to join us."
In the face
of at least two separate proxy wars threatening his country
– one pitting the regional interests of Ethiopia and
Eritrea, a second involving the U.S.-led campaign against
global terror – Adan says the re-establishment of a
functioning state is the key to progress.
To that end,
he hopes to encourage greater involvement of the Somali
diaspora, including the expat community in Toronto, where
Adan got his first glimpse of Canada when he arrived as a
refugee in 1989.
"Every Somali
in Toronto talks about the situation every day. And they
send money – last year, an estimated $1 billion came into
Somalia from the extended family around the world," he said.
"But that is
not enough. We have to reverse the brain drain – we need
more Somalis from Toronto, from London, from everywhere, to
bring their skills and expertise back to Somalia to help put
things back together," said Adan, who ran an innovative
employment centre for the Ottawa-Carleton Municipality after
taking his Masters in public administration at Hamilton's
McMaster University.
"That is my
message to the diaspora: you can sit there in Toronto and
continue to criticize all the things that Somalia lacks. Or
you can come back and actually try to do something about it.
Your country needs you now."
Source: The
Star
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