The last time Ken Menkhaus, a Horn of Africa specialist at Davidson College in North Carolina, visited Somalia three years ago, he had 20 armed guards and only narrowly avoided being kidnapped, fleeing the country in the middle of the night. What were once random abductions are now highly coordinated, he says, with local leaders, clan representatives, and perhaps even parts of the Somali diaspora receiving cuts of the ransom. “It clearly goes up to very high levels. It’s very big money.” But recent events have radically altered what used to be a predictable business. This spring, the U.S. declared Shabaab a terrorist organization, and assassinated its leader, Aden Hashi Ayro, with a Tomahawk missile. The group reacted by threatening to target Westerners and anyone helping them. “The rules of the game have changed, and no one knows what they are now,” says Menkhaus.
Whatever their motivations for travelling to Somalia, Lindhout and Brennan clearly underestimated the danger. On Aug. 22, Taron Hall, who had been attempting to contact his friend in Iraq, received an email. “Amanda wrote, ‘I’m in Somalia trying to get a story . . . It’s really dangerous. It looks like it’s just warlords and insurgents and just a lawless country,’ ” says Hall.
According to the National Union of Somali Journalists, eight members of the country’s media were killed in 2007. Only one has been murdered so far in 2008, but that’s more a reflection of how many have fled rather than any lessening of danger. As for the kidnapping of foreigners, some, like the French TV cameraman Gwen le Gouil, quickly find their way home (she was released after just eight days last December). Others do not. Murray Watson, a British researcher working for a UN’s Food and Agriculture Organization, was snatched near the southern Somali town of Buale at the beginning of April. No one has seen the 69-year-old since.
And while the West focuses on Brennan and Lindhout, it’s worth remembering that they are not alone. Their fixer, Abdifatah Mohammed Elmi, driver Mahad Clise, and another man identified only as Marwali, are also being held. Abdifatah’s father, Mohammed, spoke to Maclean’s by phone from Mogadishu. “You worry, you worry. I think about it all the time. That’s all I do,” he says. A week ago, Mohammed called the kidnappers in desperation. They allowed him to speak briefly to his son, who usually works as a photojournalist. “He said, ‘I’m okay. I’m fine, but I’m afraid, father. I’m afraid.’ ” Abdifatah, who did not appear in the al-Jazeera video, said he hadn’t seen the other captives. Now, Mohammed is cursing his son’s decision to work with the foreign journalists. “My son has never had trouble. But they saw him with white people and so they kidnapped him,” he says. “If I knew where he was I would go and get him by force.”
With Cathy Gulli
