Somalis feel US squeeze

Much of Somalia remains controlled by heavily-armed militias

By BBC East Africa correspondent Andrew Harding

From the roof terrace of the Shamo Hotel, Mogadishu looks rather elegant. White colonial buildings mingle with dark green trees. Behind a row of gentle hills, the Indian Ocean is blue and inviting.

It's the gunfire that spoils the illusion. That's the arms market, says Ajoo. They're just testing weapons. Nothing to worry about.

In a normal hotel, in a normal country, Ajoo would be called the manager. Here in Somalia, he's our chief bodyguard.

He met us at the airport with eight young men in sandals and tee shirts and almost more guns than they could carry.

For a price, the guards are with us round the clock. Laughing, mucking around with their Kalashnikovs and heavy machine guns, and hopefully making sure that we get out of here in one piece.

Mogadishu looks deceptively tranquil

This morning we took a drive round the city with them - squeezed into two cars - gun barrels poking out like porcupine quills.

At street level, the white colonial buildings turn out to be little more than bombed out ruins, surrounded by rubble and rubbish.

Inside, ramshackle tents, made of sticks and old clothes, house Mogadishu's browbeaten population.

Battleground

For a decade now, this city, like the rest of Somalia, has been a battleground for rival warlords and clan militias. Turf wars erupt without warning. Kidnapping is a serious risk.

Ajoo suddenly stopped the car close to the seafront. This is as far as we can go here, he said. There's a freelance militia group round that corner. If they see foreigners - they'll go crazy.

We turned back and squeezed up a potholed sidestreet, heading for a branch of the al-Barakat bank.

The US staged a disastrous military intervention in Somalia in 1992

Al-Barakat is Somalia's most famous company. It's also a national life support system.

Every year, the bank channels at least $500m into the country - $50 here, $30 there. All of it sent by Somalis living in London and Los Angeles, to relatives back home.

I say all of it sent by Somalis. But the American government is not so sure. It recently accused the bank of moving funds for Osama Bin Laden's terrorist network.

Al-Barakat branches round the world were promptly shut down. Somalia's life support system was switched off.

Militant links

The Americans have also added a local Islamic organisation, al-Itihad, to their list of international terrorist groups, and have claimed that Bin Laden's al-Qaeda network are active in Somalia too.

When we arrived at the al-Barakat bank it was, not surprisingly, closed. It was surrounded by an angry crowd. A woman shouted that all her money was lost. "Tell Bush to give it back to us," she said.

Inside, in a cramped office, Hassan Gele Bered, was busy tapping away on a keyboard. He's a software engineer for the bank. And like everyone else I've met in Mogadishu, so far, he believes it's all been a terrible mistake.

"The Americans have got it wrong, he said, bringing up a column of names and figures on the computer screen. "We can account for every single financial transaction. Why don't they come and look at our records before they accuse us of terrorism?" he said.

What's the point in dropping bombs on us? We've been fighting each other here for so long there's nothing left to destroy

Naema, Somali woman

Some Somalis think the Americans are simply out for revenge. Revenge for the 18 US soldiers who were killed in Mogadishu in 1993.

Others say Washington is being duped by local warlords and by neighbouring Ethiopia - their aim being to weaken Somalia's new transitional government.

That government - the country's first in a decade - was set up a year ago. It's been struggling to claw territory and control back from the warlords, and has made some progress.

From the car, Ajoo pointed at an impressive camouflaged truck mounted with an anti-aircraft gun and draped with young men and kalashnikovs.

Those are government soldiers, he said. This part of the city is now safe.

We went looking for the al-Itihad group - the one added to America's list of international terrorists.

Not surprisingly, we didn't find it. Several government ministers said it had split up about five years ago, its training camps shut down.

'Nowhere to hide'

Perhaps the Americans know differently. But reliable information is hard to come by in a place as anarchic and dangerous as Somalia.

I asked people in the market if they thought Bin Laden might try to hide here. They laughed. There are no caves in Somalia, they said. Besides who could resist handing him over and collecting all that reward money?

Somalia is recovering from a devastating famine

From her tiny shack in the ruins of Mogadishu's Coca-Cola factory, Naema Ali glanced up at the sky.

These days people here are half expecting to see B-52 bombers overhead and American warships off the coast.

Let them come said Naema, brushing the flies off her family's evening meal. A neighbour wandered over, past a giant, rusting piece of soft drinks machinery.

"What's the point in dropping bombs on us?" she says. "We've been fighting each other here for so long there's nothing left to destroy."