Memoirs

Wednesday, May 4, 2005 had all the hallmarks of a wonderful day. The sun was up by 6am, peeking cheerfully over the Indian Ocean in the horizon, its rays kicking up beautiful sparkles in the watery expanse. This was meant to be a memorable day. The day new Prime Minister Ali Gedi would, in person, address the Somali people in a rally at the Mogadishu National Stadium. He had arrived in the battle-scarred city a few days earlier. The purpose of this trip was clear. He was to assess suitability of Mogadishu as the possible seat of the Somalia Transitional Federal Government (TFG) led by President Abdullahi Yusuf Ahmed when it relocates home from Nairobi. Gedi had spent the days following his arrival in energy-sapping whirlwind tours, meeting and negotiating with notorious warlords, determined to win heir backing for the new government. When the rally finally got going under a relentless midday sun it quickly turned into a festival, a colourful jamboree. The stadium heaved and pulsated with excitement, song and dance as the jubilant Somalis celebrated what they hoped was the arrival of a new dawn in their country, the dawn of peace and stability. Then, as Gedi was addressing the multitude, an explosion ripped through the stadium, bringing the event to a shuddering stop. When the dust finally settled, many lay dead, dismembered by the explosion, as scores of others writhed on the ground, fatally wounded. Gedi emerged unscathed and was whisked off to safety.