<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 <![endif]--><!--[if !mso]> <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <![endif]--> Mogadishu, Somali August 2011 Newly appointed as WEA’s Global Ambassador in July, I asked ‘what should I do and where should I go?’ Shortly after, I saw news about one of the most devastating famines the world has witnessed to date in Mogadishu – affecting up to 11 million souls. Deeply moved to encourage our colleagues there, I headed to East Africa on August 9. I had no idea what I might do or accomplish, but after talking with Dave Toycen of World Vision, it seemed right for me in this new role to be on the ground, simply as a statement of encouragement. In Nairobi, I was warmly greeted by Aiah Foday-Khabenje, General Secretary of the Association of African Evangelicals and Rev. Dr. Mutiso Wellington, Executive Director of the Kenyan Evangelical Alliance. They briefed me on the violence in the Mogadishu area and the growing numbers of people fleeing drought and famine. Earlier, Dave Toycen, President of World Vision Canada shared that they were forced to leave the capital of Somalia because of violence and threats of Al-Shabaab, an Al Qaeda operative. Later, I met with Tim Costello, Australia’s World Vision director who had brought a TV crew from the Australian Broadcasting Company to film in the Dadaab refugee camp. Tim and the Australian High Commissioner warned me of the dangers in setting foot in Mogadishu. Despite the grave danger warnings and the impossibility of getting to Mogadishu, I trusted my inner prompting to go, to tell the Somalians we care. I had tried some days earlier to reach the Canadian Embassy, personally, and through my Member of Parliament but with no response. Aiah and I needed visas but the Somalian embassy was closed. The staff had left but surprisingly the Deputy Head of Mission wanted to help. Asking why we wanted to go there, I shared of our need to be faithful to the One we serve. For over an hour, he spoke of the crisis of his land, a country lawless and out of control. Visa in hand and in the Mogadishu airport, while waiting a photojournalist from France asked why I was there. I tried to answer, and then he asked who was meeting us. I replied we had not gone that far. In rough language he said, “You are an idiot. I do my work in dangerous places, but this is the most dangers city in the world.” Then we were interrogated by an immigration officer as to why we were there. Our reply that we are doing reconnaissance to see if Christian relief agencies could get back in didn’t seem to make a lot of sense to him so he wanted to know where we would stay. He said he would help and so arranged for us to staying in the Sahafi Hotel. The owner of a hotel and senior businessman in Mogadishu was so amazed that a Canadian had interest in coming and crazy enough to try, he came to see for himself. He escorted us into a four seater souped-up truck. Within minutes out of the airport, five soldiers each armed with an AK 47s climbed in the back of the truck. I have been in some devastating landscapes but these streets were of a different state, bombed out buildings and shattered marketplaces, disorder in all directions looked like Berlin after the war. We worked our way through a maze of cement road blocks into the back yard of what looked like a hotel. Sure enough, it was the Sahafi Hotel. Somalia Somalia, a country bordering the Indian Ocean, has gone through tragic periods of devastating wars and terror. In 1991 the fall of the Siad Barre regime created a lawlessness that has gripped the country since. Al-Shabaab, a co-conspirator with Al-Qaeda took power in central and south Somalia in 2006. While Al-Shabaab was draconian in their administration of strict Islamic laws, at least they provided citizens some forms of social stability. But when the famine began, people got fed up with Al-Shabaab. It has been said that ‘while drought is an ecological disaster, famine is a political disaster.’ Christian aid groups were forced out because the “humanitarian-coordination” office increased registration fees from four thousand dollars to ten thousand. When an aid group dug a well, the office required an additional 20% fee. They exploited the famine for their financial coffers. The Africa Union finally sent soldiers into Mogadishu to secure the airport and parts of the city. But it was only until early August (a few days ago) they were able to drive Al-Shabaab to the outskirts. Even so, Christian aid groups were not yet invited to return. Mogadishu During the day, we traveled to refugee camps and witnessed the enormous plague engulfing this region. What is most striking is the rarity of males and abundance of women and children. Most men died in conflict, some stayed home to work the fields and many men have more than one wife. I met one woman mourning outside a shack, head covered in cloth and hands. Another woman speaking some English spoke softly to me, “Sir, she just lost two children and an hour ago she lost her third.” “From what?” I asked. “Hunger,” she said. No Red Cross, No UN nor any other agency was in sight. No food, we could see, was being prepared or distributed. Huts made up of cloth, plastic, tin or anything they could get their hands on was the extent of their protection from winds and rains. One small group of tents was provided by a Norwegian group. But that was all. These powerful images etched into my memory. However, there were positive images too - of children’s smiles and laughter at my silly lion growls. A bit apprehensive about taking photos, I was surprised that the children were disappointed when I didn’t photograph them. They would quickly gather in groups asking me to take photos, calling out with wide smiles, “Canada.”. Another beautiful memory. Back at the hotel, we wandered out into an open area, protected by steel gates. Men were sitting around playing cards, chatting and waiting for their dinner prepared by women. I was called over to meet two men; one Speaker of the House and the other Ambassador to Pakistan, the one who had made the call on our behalf earlier in the day. Many senior government officials and ministers lived in the hotel as it was close to their parliament and well protected from Al-Shabaab. The ambassador said, “I thought Canadians were cowards…because they only come to Kenya and won’t come to Mogadishu. You are the first Canadian I’ve seen in years. Thank you for coming.” My hotel-owner friend said, “This Brian friend is a crazy Canadian.” I shared that “Crazy Canuck” was a term referring to Canadian skiers in the 1980s who skied at high speeds, so from then on I was introduced as “Brian, the crazy Canuck.” “So why have you come?” a government minister asked. “I’m a Christian, and my simple message is that God loves Somalia and he loves Somalians,” I responded. Now I’ve preached many sermons, and talked to many people, but I can’t recall how in one moment kindredness was born out of those simple words as that late afternoon. In that instant the atmosphere changed and we were brothers. A tall striking younger man in his mid forties came by to visit. Like other expats from Canada, the UK and US, this Australian returned to the interim government in rebuilding the nation as deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs. We talked about Canadian foreign policy, Christian aid agencies and the challenges they faced. His warmth and respect was indescribable all because a Canadian risked coming into a war zone to tell the nation they mattered. His endearing affection with a manly hug was a good beginning. He invited to meet the Prime Minister but unfortunately we were unable to stay longer. However we made a commitment to further this relationship. Back at the Mogadishu airport, I notice a young Somalian working the metal detector machine, wearing a T shirt with a message in English” This is True. I was sure he had no idea what was written so I asked him. In fine English he responded, “Yes I do.” Then I asked, “But do you know what is written underneath?” “Yes,” he replied, “John 3:16.” “And do you know what that means?” He smiled and quoted it and gave me a brief explanation. Here in the face of unrelenting Christian opposition, this young man was up to a pubic witness. Always amazing to see, but not surprising. As we waited for our flight, the Immigration officer who on our arrival had insured our security came over to say goodbye. I found myself wrapped by his muscular arms, not once but three times. What our broken verbal languages didn’t communicate, body language made up for. I said I would return. On my writing pad he wrote his name and phone number hoping I will contact him on my next visit. What is the value of the trip? I can’t say, but it tested a willingness to obey the call of the Spirit and then to allow the actual going to be used, as he so chooses. Brian C Stiller Global Ambassador The World Evangelical Alliance
Mogadishu, Somali August 2011 Newly appointed as WEA’s Global Ambassador in July, I asked ‘what should I do and where should I go?’ Shortly after, I saw news about one of the most devastating famines the world has witnessed to date in Mogadishu – affecting up to 11 million souls. Deeply moved to encourage our colleagues there, I headed to East Africa on August 9. I had no idea what I might do or accomplish, but after talking with Dave Toycen of World Vision, it seemed right for me in this new role to be on the ground, simply as a statement of encouragement. In Nairobi, I was warmly greeted by Aiah Foday-Khabenje, General Secretary of the Association of African Evangelicals and Rev. Dr. Mutiso Wellington, Executive Director of the Kenyan Evangelical Alliance. They briefed me on the violence in the Mogadishu area and the growing numbers of people fleeing drought and famine. Earlier, Dave Toycen, President of World Vision Canada shared that they were forced to leave the capital of Somalia because of violence and threats of Al-Shabaab, an Al Qaeda operative. Later, I met with Tim Costello, Australia’s World Vision director who had brought a TV crew from the Australian Broadcasting Company to film in the Dadaab refugee camp. Tim and the Australian High Commissioner warned me of the dangers in setting foot in Mogadishu. Despite the grave danger warnings and the impossibility of getting to Mogadishu, I trusted my inner prompting to go, to tell the Somalians we care. I had tried some days earlier to reach the Canadian Embassy, personally, and through my Member of Parliament but with no response. Aiah and I needed visas but the Somalian embassy was closed. The staff had left but surprisingly the Deputy Head of Mission wanted to help. Asking why we wanted to go there, I shared of our need to be faithful to the One we serve. For over an hour, he spoke of the crisis of his land, a country lawless and out of control. Visa in hand and in the Mogadishu airport, while waiting a photojournalist from France asked why I was there. I tried to answer, and then he asked who was meeting us. I replied we had not gone that far. In rough language he said, “You are an idiot. I do my work in dangerous places, but this is the most dangers city in the world.” Then we were interrogated by an immigration officer as to why we were there. Our reply that we are doing reconnaissance to see if Christian relief agencies could get back in didn’t seem to make a lot of sense to him so he wanted to know where we would stay. He said he would help and so arranged for us to staying in the Sahafi Hotel. The owner of a hotel and senior businessman in Mogadishu was so amazed that a Canadian had interest in coming and crazy enough to try, he came to see for himself. He escorted us into a four seater souped-up truck. Within minutes out of the airport, five soldiers each armed with an AK 47s climbed in the back of the truck. I have been in some devastating landscapes but these streets were of a different state, bombed out buildings and shattered marketplaces, disorder in all directions looked like Berlin after the war. We worked our way through a maze of cement road blocks into the back yard of what looked like a hotel. Sure enough, it was the Sahafi Hotel. Somalia Somalia, a country bordering the Indian Ocean, has gone through tragic periods of devastating wars and terror. In 1991 the fall of the Siad Barre regime created a lawlessness that has gripped the country since. Al-Shabaab, a co-conspirator with Al-Qaeda took power in central and south Somalia in 2006. While Al-Shabaab was draconian in their administration of strict Islamic laws, at least they provided citizens some forms of social stability. But when the famine began, people got fed up with Al-Shabaab. It has been said that ‘while drought is an ecological disaster, famine is a political disaster.’ Christian aid groups were forced out because the “humanitarian-coordination” office increased registration fees from four thousand dollars to ten thousand. When an aid group dug a well, the office required an additional 20% fee. They exploited the famine for their financial coffers. The Africa Union finally sent soldiers into Mogadishu to secure the airport and parts of the city. But it was only until early August (a few days ago) they were able to drive Al-Shabaab to the outskirts. Even so, Christian aid groups were not yet invited to return. Mogadishu During the day, we traveled to refugee camps and witnessed the enormous plague engulfing this region. What is most striking is the rarity of males and abundance of women and children. Most men died in conflict, some stayed home to work the fields and many men have more than one wife. I met one woman mourning outside a shack, head covered in cloth and hands. Another woman speaking some English spoke softly to me, “Sir, she just lost two children and an hour ago she lost her third.” “From what?” I asked. “Hunger,” she said. No Red Cross, No UN nor any other agency was in sight. No food, we could see, was being prepared or distributed. Huts made up of cloth, plastic, tin or anything they could get their hands on was the extent of their protection from winds and rains. One small group of tents was provided by a Norwegian group. But that was all. These powerful images etched into my memory. However, there were positive images too - of children’s smiles and laughter at my silly lion growls. A bit apprehensive about taking photos, I was surprised that the children were disappointed when I didn’t photograph them. They would quickly gather in groups asking me to take photos, calling out with wide smiles, “Canada.”. Another beautiful memory. Back at the hotel, we wandered out into an open area, protected by steel gates. Men were sitting around playing cards, chatting and waiting for their dinner prepared by women. I was called over to meet two men; one Speaker of the House and the other Ambassador to Pakistan, the one who had made the call on our behalf earlier in the day. Many senior government officials and ministers lived in the hotel as it was close to their parliament and well protected from Al-Shabaab. The ambassador said, “I thought Canadians were cowards…because they only come to Kenya and won’t come to Mogadishu. You are the first Canadian I’ve seen in years. Thank you for coming.” My hotel-owner friend said, “This Brian friend is a crazy Canadian.” I shared that “Crazy Canuck” was a term referring to Canadian skiers in the 1980s who skied at high speeds, so from then on I was introduced as “Brian, the crazy Canuck.” “So why have you come?” a government minister asked. “I’m a Christian, and my simple message is that God loves Somalia and he loves Somalians,” I responded. Now I’ve preached many sermons, and talked to many people, but I can’t recall how in one moment kindredness was born out of those simple words as that late afternoon. In that instant the atmosphere changed and we were brothers. A tall striking younger man in his mid forties came by to visit. Like other expats from Canada, the UK and US, this Australian returned to the interim government in rebuilding the nation as deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs. We talked about Canadian foreign policy, Christian aid agencies and the challenges they faced. His warmth and respect was indescribable all because a Canadian risked coming into a war zone to tell the nation they mattered. His endearing affection with a manly hug was a good beginning. He invited to meet the Prime Minister but unfortunately we were unable to stay longer. However we made a commitment to further this relationship. Back at the Mogadishu airport, I notice a young Somalian working the metal detector machine, wearing a T shirt with a message in English” This is True. I was sure he had no idea what was written so I asked him. In fine English he responded, “Yes I do.” Then I asked, “But do you know what is written underneath?” “Yes,” he replied, “John 3:16.” “And do you know what that means?” He smiled and quoted it and gave me a brief explanation. Here in the face of unrelenting Christian opposition, this young man was up to a pubic witness. Always amazing to see, but not surprising. As we waited for our flight, the Immigration officer who on our arrival had insured our security came over to say goodbye. I found myself wrapped by his muscular arms, not once but three times. What our broken verbal languages didn’t communicate, body language made up for. I said I would return. On my writing pad he wrote his name and phone number hoping I will contact him on my next visit. What is the value of the trip? I can’t say, but it tested a willingness to obey the call of the Spirit and then to allow the actual going to be used, as he so chooses. Brian C Stiller Global Ambassador The World Evangelical Alliance