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 A PERSONAL ACCOUNT OF A TRIP TO ERITREA |
Eritrea: Summer 2007 Recently, I read an extensive report of a trip to Eritrea by Sophia Tesfamariam who is an ardent and a blindly loyal supporter of the sole party that is ruling the tiny Northeast African country. I too had traveled to the country around the same time, and I thought I give a report about my own observations and experiences of that country. From the outset, I must point out that my travels were limited to the Southern and Central regions, although these regions are the most densely populated. The two regions are where more than 45% of the Eritrean population and most of the dominant Tigrinya and Saho people of Eritrea live. Moreover, the Tigrinya people are probably the source of the majority of Eritrea’s Diaspora population. I returned to Eritrea from the west after I had left for educational purposes ten years earlier.
My observations first started with the Eritrean Airlines. I was excited to see the much talked about and advertised lone plane of the Airline. What I found was a wet-leased plane of the Turkish Atlas Airline with Turkish signs, flag, and magazines. The airport in Asmara was awfully quiet. It looked as if my plane was the only one that did business in the country. When I stepped out of the plane, besides the pleasant weather and dust of highland Eritrea, nothing was familiar.
After passing the bored and exhausted emigration officers, I visited the restrooms while waiting for my luggage. That experience was probably the summary introduction to my whole trip. The once hailed clean city, Asmara and its facilities were getting dilapidated, and no one was attending to it. The airport restroom which may be the first orientation to a tourist or any type of visitor to the country was leaking water to the floor from many corners. Moreover, there was not a paper towel or tissue to be found in the area. I may have been disappointed after spending years of my time in the West. However, the buildings and roads of the city told the same story. The beautiful buildings of Asmara I once knew seemed to be lacking renovation or repair work.
Two of my cousins and my cousin-in-law picked me up at the airport. Later I was told by one of my cousins that the cousin-in-law was wearing his Kabbot (long coat) to indicate that he was mourning. My cousin-in-law had just returned from Sudan after having gone there to identify the body of his nephew. His nephew died while escaping from Eritrea’s relentless national service program. The young man died of dehydration, and by the time his uncle reached Sudan, the body had decomposed and it was impossible to identify him. For identification he could only rely on the words of his nephew’s fellow escapee that had relayed their story to the Sudanese authorities and sent messages to the next of kin. My cousin-in-law returned home alone. He only put some marker of the burial ground in Sudan. Later on, I was discovering that this young man was not the only one who perished trying to find a better future outside of his country. Many youngsters have been shot along the border by the government’s patrols. Many more have perished on the deserts trying to reach Libya. Those who make it to Sudan and Libya have been returned back to Eritrea by Libyan and Sudanese officials despite their pleas for asylum. Those who board on the boats of traffickers have been drowning in the middle of the Red and Mediterranean seas trying to reach Yemen, Malta, and Italy.
As I strolled around Asmara, I was constantly asking myself if this was the Asmara I knew and if the people had always been that thin? To be sure, the people of the Eastern part of Africa are known for their slender figure, and I did not expect the buildings to be in better conditions than my first departure. However, at least from the numerous reports of Asmara being the Architectural-gem of 20th Century Italian designs, I expected it to be somewhat in the same condition as when I left it. As it is customary, I was going around and visiting relatives that included a large clan of uncles and aunts who lived through out the two regions, inside and outside of Asmara. When I went to visit one of my elderly uncles in Asmara, he greeted me affectionately, and then he started to tell me what he was facing. In the aftermath of the Ethio-Eritrean war in 2000, two of his sons had left the country to the West by marrying two young women. They left with the full knowledge and approval of the government. A third son had also left the country to Kenya in the last two years after he was designated unfit for military and national service program. Despite all of these however, government officials were hounding the old man to produce his sons or pay 50,000 Naqfas each - a total sum of 150,000 Naqfas ($10,000) or face jail. Apparently, this was a policy that was imposed on the parents of escapees who left the country. I believe it was 15,000 Naqfas for those that remain in the country but never go to the national service. My uncle had been expecting his two sons to send the money with me. He was visibly unhappy when he found out that I had only come to say hello to him and not give him the sum of money his sons were supposed to send.
As I traveled further south passing through Debarwa, I saw a remarkable growth. Once a relegated city of bygone days of glory, as headquarters of the former “Baher- Negest” (rulers of the sea), Debarwa is filled with exquisite villas now. The [open-secret] reason for a glowing scene of development and new growth however was revealed to me soon. One of the residents of the villages around Debarwa revealed to me that those marvelous villas were owned by the Colonels. Apparently, the Colonels of the Defense forces had grown so corrupt they were able to build villas and luxurious houses while the rest of the country was barely getting by. The old perceived ethos of transparent and clean record of the fighters of Eritrean People’s Liberation Front (EPLF) was no more. In the old days a businessman was supposed to be rich. Now, the rich people in Eritrea are Generals and Colonels.
I was soon discovering how the country was being administered. The country was a pretense of civilian rule. While the Dictator Isaias Afeworki held on to power (presidency) on the top, underneath him were the five Operational Command generals. Apparently, in his scheme of marginalization of potential rivals, not even the renowned Defense Minister Sebhat Ephraim had any clout. Sebhat’s own cousin described his situation to me. She said, “He has been relegated to the sides. He is useless and powerless.” All the Ministers and regional governors had also been declared useless. Now, the useful people are the Generals, Colonels, and Lt. Colonels, led by the most feared and notorious man in the country. His name is Phillipos. That honor had belonged to the mindless and undereducated general nicknamed “Wichu” in previous days. Now, talks around the nation are that Wichu had fallen out of favor and in his usual habits of recycling and reshuffling Commanders and Ministers who might pose a threat; Isaias had rotated him to the Gash-Barka region, away from the most important and most populated, Southern Command.
A few days later, one of my cousins who had picked me up at the airport was opening up to me. His father had been “martyred’ in the 70’s, then he was kidnapped in the late 80s into conscription by Eritrean People’s Liberation Front (EPLF). Abduction and subsequent political indoctrination were a common form of recruitment for the EPLF or Shaebia [shortened form of the Arabic name of EPLF, later PFDJ, meaning People’s] as it was commonly known. The rebel organization finally succeeded in its aim of splitting Eritrea from Ethiopia in 1991. The organization renamed itself People’s Front for Democracy and Justice (PFDJ) in 1994. My cousin had wanted and still wants to be demobilized from the defense department to raise his five kids, but the government has refused to release him of military duties. He was designated to be part of the elite Special Forces of the regime known us Division 525.
He told me a clever story or joke that is familiar in the streets of Asmara. It was a common joke about governance in Asmara. He started by saying that a man was sharing his knowledge about political ideologies that govern the world. The man stated, “The world was governed by two dominant ideologies. One was Socialism which rules China and others, and the other one was Imperialism [Western Capitalism] that rules America and Europe.” When the man was asked where Eritrea belonged in these categories, he replied, “Ah, Eritrea is governed by `Sakitism’.” In the slang expressions of Tigrinya, "Sakit" signifies aimlessly, haphazardly, or impulsively. There fore, Eritrea was an exception having its own category. Leaving aside the joker’s crude understanding of the complex ideologies that are ruling the world, the story was amusing and on point in describing the unpredictable nature of the Eritrean system of government. This also said much about the sympathy of the people including members of the [non-service members] regular military.
In Eritrea, there is no Constitution to guide the action of either the government or the people. The government that is in power is unelected and Transitional. The National Assembly which was composed of 75 unelected members of the Party and 75 elected regional representatives used to rubber stamp the whims of Isaias Afeworki though it has not even met since 2001 to do just that. Nothing has been heard about the parliament or national assembly in the last 6 years. The comrades and ministers of Isaias who asked for the implementation of the drafted Constitution and questioned his competence in the aftermath of the Ethio-Eritrean War are still jailed. Their condition remains unknown with no visit by the Red Cross or family members. Some credible websites have recently reported on the death of some of the ministers, one general and a well known journalist. Isaias, his Generals, and Colonels are ruling the unfortunate people according to their pleasure. Basically, Isaias Afeworki’s government is accountable to no one. Not even to international bodies and powers does he listen anymore. His only friend in the world seems to be Muammar al-Gaddafi of Libya. The jokester lacked the words to describe this type of government. I am tempted to call it Banditry, but I am afraid the old bandits of Eritrea who roamed the highland with strict honor codes against entering a household headed by a woman would be undeservedly tainted. I could call it “Thug-ocracy”, but I am sure the urban youth of America who pose in the costume of gangstas would be unhappy. Anyway one describes it; there is no legitimate government in Eritrea. There are only men with guns that are forcing people without guns to obey.
Those in power describe their organization as People’s Front for Democracy and justice. However, as Voltaire had described the Holy Roman Empire as “Neither, Holy, nor Roman, nor Empire”; Isaias’ party is neither people’s nor for democracy nor for Justice. In fact, it is against all of these descriptions. There are three types of people in the country, and all of them are waiting for its demise. As my 70 years old uncle said, the old, the young and the children are tired of it. The old people are tired of raising their children in hardship only to hand them over to a government that had done nothing to help raise them. The young are tired of a government that makes it impossible to be able to live normally and fulfill their traditional human activities of going to school, starting a family and witnessing the growth of their children. They are also tired of a government that makes individual self-initiative or pursuit of happiness impossible. Wives are tired of the government that makes absent-husbands out of their men. The children are also tired of seeing their fathers after enduring years of hardship without them.
Soon, I came to hear about the potential rotation of the troops in the Southern Command. Divisions such as the 26th and others were to be transferred to Assab. The units that had been in Assab had been there for at least the last 6 or 7 years. One of my cousins had been drafted to serve as a simple soldier 10 years ago despite being holder of Baccalaureate degree from Asmara University with 4 years of experience in one of the ministries. Now, he was dreading further transfer away from his family and field of training. Another uncle who is a father of 4 and almost 42 years old was looking forward to being close to his family and out of Assab after more than half a dozen years. What a life? What a contradiction. I sympathized with both of them. I know Assab quite well, and I had lived there as a child. Assab is a region that is rivaled only by the Death Valley of California in its harshness. It is one of the lowest, hottest, most humid and hostile areas of the world.
In the early 90s Eritrea, the sight of beggars, homeless, and mentally ill in the capital and other towns had become rare. Compared to other African and some Western countries, Eritrea is still less peppered with such scenes. However, there are now in significant numbers of them to make one notice in the youth-starved towns. When I pointed to my commando cousin about a mentally ill man who seemed to be grumbling about the government, he said, “Oh, yes, the city is full of them these days. It is as if they are the only ones who live here. They pop up in all directions. Women are begging wearing very clean clothes, too.” I was wondering what one would do for such people, but as we went home, I found out what the government was doing for them. It has jailed those who used to care for them in one way or another. One of my cousins that received me at the airport had been religious ever since the day I knew her. Unlike most Eritrean Orthodox youth who simply inherit their faith from their families as part of their culture and are usually casual about it, she had been an active and devout member of the Medhane –Alem Church that is next to the Mekane-Hiwet Hospital. Three of the distinguished members of that congregation were: the only Eritrean Psychiatrist who was also an Ordained Priest of the Church by the name of Fitsum Ghebrenegus, another bright Physician and ordained priest named Tekleab, and a distinguished Theologian and Priest named Ghebremedhin. I had generally known that the government was persecuting Pentecostals and interfering in the Orthodox Church affairs. However, her detailed story of how and why these three distinguished Medical and theological intellectuals of the country had been imprisoned since 2004 came almost as a shock to me. I had heard about the imprisonment of Dr. Fitsum, and heard a little bit about Fr. Ghebremedhin. But, the imprisonment of Dr. Tekleab shocked me, and I was ashamed for not knowing about it because I thought of myself as a regular follower of Eritrean affairs. I had known Dr. Tekleab while he was in Mendefera. He was a lights-skinned muscular and confident fellow who swayed to the sides as he walked. He was a picture of a well-fed man that sparked with cleanliness and fashionable suits that fit well on his wide shoulders. With all these, he somehow exhibited a calm humility with his silence. He was the type of man I wanted to be as I was growing up. He had treated me for Malaria after I was infected during one of my service programs. Dr.Tekleab was too gentle to be imprisoned. He was like one of those innocent fat kids whose only concern and weakness in life is food. He seemed almost like a sheltered child whom one would want to further shield him from being harmed. As there is no official court or prosecutor who accuses or indicts people, no body knows what his and the other two individuals crimes. The insanity of it all however is not lost to me. Eritrea probably has less than 60 trained Physicians for its 3.5 Million people. Yet, Isaias and his cronies hunt Professional healers like they have unlimited supply of them. The new Pentecostal churches’ persecution was almost condoned by the population of Eritrea. People said that they had brought it on themselves, and nobody had made them convert from Orthodoxy. Yet, as the “SS” of Isaias run out of religious minorities to targets and victimize, they moved to the main church to even reach the Patriarch of the Orthodox Church. I am reminded of the poem “First Hitler attacked…” that is attributed to Pastor Martin Niemöller.
Ethiopian Television, Music, Amharic, and Ethiopian Muppets While I stayed in Mendefera, I saw a clear seen of defiance in the households of the people. Although the government prohibits listening to Amharic music, I witnessed almost every household with young people playing Amharic Music. Teddy Afro seemed to be the favorite of the Amharic singers, but others were well liked, too. The Ethiopian Television was also the most favored channel by those who did not have Satellite Dish. The youth of Eritrea still love Ethiopian music. The children relished watching the Amharic children’s Program of Elmo-like Muppets. I was delighted that the Ethiopians had appropriate children’s programming during children’s hour compared to the constant rumbling about suffering and killing in the Eritrean TV station. I saw that the barbershops of Asmara loved playing Ephraim Tamru’s songs, and the bars around Abba Shawl liked playing the music of the Adwa-born singer Abraham Gebremedhin. For those of us who had feared the outcome of the unprecedented separation of the Eritrean and Ethiopian populations from each other in the last nine years, it was a vivid reminder that no government including the Italian governments of colonial Eritrea had succeeded in severing the blood and cultural relations of these people. PFDJ’s regime was not going to be any different. If Italy could not succeed, Shaebia was not going to succeed either. The bonds that connect the people of Ethiopia and Eritrea still remain. I was most surprised by the children that were learning to understand the Amharic language because of TV. The children understood a lot of Amharic and they were not shy of asking what a word meant if they did not know it.
One thing I did not expect to see however was resentment among Eritrea’s Tigrinya speaking highlanders towards each other by Awraja (province). Around Mendefera, I noticed the natives of Seraye resented the perceived or real acquirement of their fertile province by Akele- Guzay people. They also complained about the disproportional allocation of developmental money to Dekemhare and other cities while Mendefera and other towns of Seraye languished. For the record, with the exception of some of the houses of the Colonel’s in Debarwa, and also the nice but severely understaffed referral hospital in Mendefera, there was not much new in Seraye towns. Even the famous St. George high school of Mendefera still operates in its prison cell classrooms. Although I had studied in the only high school of Mendefera, I never knew that it was first built by the Italians to be a prison. I just discovered this fact during my visit. The dark hallways were peculiar tome. I now know why. The Akele-guzay people on the other hand resented not being able to have one of their towns as the capital of their region. They did not like going to Mendefera. It was too far for them to go to Mendefera to conduct business that involves the regional bureaucracy. Revisiting Premises of ‘Independence and Viability’ of Eritrea by EPLF fighters Resentment against Muslims of the lowlands was pronounced among those who aspired for a political power. This was made clear to me by the obvious feeling of disillusionment shown by former veteran fighters of EPLF who had been assigned to the Departments and Ministries other than defense. Two relatives of mine who had joined the independence struggle in the mid 70s exclaimed that they had been duped to fight for the agenda and interest of Muslim lowlanders and corrupt Colonels. I had heard this comment before among the Diaspora, but I did not expect to hear it inside Eritrea. The comments questioned the entire premise for the Independence struggle. One of them was especially questioning the possibility or viability of Eritrea as a state. These men especially seemed to be wounded and betrayed by their comrades, but I never imagined that a fighter from the Independence struggle would be so hurt to the point that he would start to question the independence movement and the viability of Eritrea as a nation. That was the saddest part of my interaction. I had personally contributed literally nothing to the independence struggle of Eritrea. I was too young. However, these uncles of mine had given up everything including their most productive years in hopes of living freely and in Justice. Instead, according to them, the independence struggle had been betrayed by those few who had come to power. While one of my uncles had headed a major government department, the other one was a regular civil servant. They were not happy about their economic situation and the way the country was being administered. But, they were even more furious that they and now their children were being asked again to sacrifice while those in power sacrificed nothing. For the record, I have witnessed that at least Sebhat Ephraim’s and another Minister’s sons have left to the military training camp, Sawa with the 21st round of draftees.
The other uncle had a different but plausible explanation for the deadlock between Ethiopia and Eritrea than what we hear officially. He explained to me that Eritrea’s military echelon was quite happy with the way things are and it is not in their interest to demarcate the border. The “no war no peace” status quo was in their interest because the focus of attention has shifted to them. According to him, the generals and colonels of the regular military had been relegated to the sides during the development-focused years of pre-1998 war period. As soon as the war started, the military that had been feeling neglected started to feel important once again. That feeling was made evident by the supposed statement of the General “Wichu” who exclaimed, “Ah, now, my subject has come.” Apparently, Wichu had been told that he did not have enough education or experience when he asked to run civil and developmental departments. “Why would they want to change the focus from them?” my uncle posed a question. “They like the deadlock.” He said. It keeps them powerful and important.
To reach my destination in the southern region, I had to pass through four checkpoints, reminding me of the old Ethiopian Derg regime days of Blockos (Check blocks.) In these checkpoints young men are asked for their “Movement paper” that is often issued by the defense ministry. I was asked for such papers but upon seeing my foreign passport, the guards often returned it immediately probably because it was difficult to read the passport. These checkpoints and papers are supposed to deter the young generation from escaping or being absent from the unlimited national service program or from fleeing the country. However, thousands of them elude the service program until they are caught and thousands more risk death by landmines, shooting, and drowning to flock to neighboring countries.
In one of my visits to the village of my ancestors where my grandparents had once lived, I noticed that the peasants had been asked to give lands to the government. The people were complaining that despite a shortage of farming land in the area, the government was taking away their lands. When they found out the government was going to grow wheat in the area, they yielded and gave it a wheat growing plot. The government however demanded to be given a plot from the fertile lands that grow Taff (staple grain of highland Eritrea) which are not suitable for wheat and barley. The farmers implored to explain to the officials that the soil of the lands they were demanding were not suitable for the type of grain they intended. The peasants knew better than anyone the type of soil that was good to grow a certain grain, but the officials refused and were choosing to experiment with their scarce lands. One elderly uncle of mine summarized the lot of the peasants’ best when he said to me, “My parents were lucky. When your father and I grew up we relieved them out of toiling on the farms. I assumed that my children were going to relieve me too, but I am 70 years old, and I have raised all my children, now I am raising their children because they have been taken away. None of your cousins are here to plough the land and harvest the crops for me or their children. I try to do it, but I am too old and can not handle all the work. If it was not for the money your father [in the west] sends me now and then, we would have all starved. It is a cruel era I tell you.”
When I decided to go to Eritrea, I was eager about the prospect of meeting the dear friends and classmates I had left behind when I moved to the west. I saw some of them again, but others were not reachable. Two of them had died in the Ethio-Eritrean war of 1998-2000. Another one was stationed in Barentu area, and another one in the Sen'afe area. I did not get to see these friends. Most of all, however, I was puzzled by the story of one of my friends who had made it to Asmara University. He studied health related fields, but he had not gone to Sawa. So one day, the Military police in Asmara stopped him and they eventually sent him to the Gulag-like camp in Wi’a for punishment. Then, he was to be transferred to the military training camp, Sawa. By the time the Sawa graduates were leaving to go to their designated areas, he was being transferred from Wi’a to Sawa. Two of my friends had escaped to Sudan and Addis Ababa, and some of the girls I knew were feeling freer because they had reached the age of 27. Apparently, girls were allowed by Isaias’ government to immigrate or join their husbands in foreign countries legally after the age of 27. The girls had no intension of living in Eritrea. They wanted to get out, and the safest way of leaving Eritrea was by marrying to somebody that lives outside of the country. The 20th round of Sawa trainee were preparing to get out of Sawa, but the unlucky bunch were also told to get ready to fall inline with the “unlimited service” regiment like their previous countrymen and women. If they pass the entrance exam, they might join the Eritrean Institute of Technology in Mai-Nefhi. If not, they know the drill.
Speaking of the Mai-Nefhi institution, I came back without visiting it despite my interest. However, two of my friends and my cousin had joined it and another distant relative had refused to join because he did not want to remain under the control of the government. Neither these friends nor the cousin of mine were known for their academic abilities when I knew them. When I complimented them for being able to enter the only institute of higher education in the country, they were less than appreciative. They did not have high regard for their abilities or their institute. One of them said that school was no University. It was just another Sawa. It is a way to control the Youth and save face for the government. “They train us there as if we were soldiers and are going to become soldiers.” He exclaimed, “Do you call that a University? They are not interested in education. If they were they would not have closed Asmara University to open mini-colleges.” The other one told me the conditions for entrance at the beginning. “During the 16th round of Sawa, the government had gotten all of us that were working in the ministries and put us into Mai-Nefhi regardless of our academic abilities. Some of us have survived, but most have left. The entrance standards have changed since, but this is not like the rigorous exams of Asmara University we used to know.” He continued, “Still, there are people who join and continue to be here despite their awful academic record through disreputable means.” I tried to encourage all of them to make the best out of the little education they might receive there, and that there will come a day when their skills and education will be valued. But they seemed resigned to the idea and chance of such things happening. They replied, “Education is not respected in this country and will probably not be in our generations time.” Referring to the comment Isaias had made after the crackdown on Asmara University students in 2001, my relative said, “We are dealing with a guy who justifies his hatred of intellectuals by saying, ‘They are not going to build me airplanes.’ I would rather educate myself than be educated by them.” My relative was working as a mechanic with his uncle. He hinted to me that he was thinking about escaping out of the country.
One day, I had witnessed the only TV station in the country advertising that Isaias was going to give extensive explanation on conditions in neighboring countries of Ethiopia, Somalia, and Sudan. On the day of his interview/speech, I happened to be with a high school friend of mine who is now a high school teacher. As the president came to give his speech we were visiting the house of an important official of the government. Contrasting the old days of eagerness and excitement to listen to the “dear leader’s” speeches and interviews, the official and the people that were visiting with us seemed bored and put off by his appearance. After we left to drink some cappuccinos in Mereb Hotel, Isaias was still rambling and none of the people in the hotel paid any attention. When I asked my friend why the people were apathetic, he replied, “We are sick of him. Nobody cares about what he says anymore. He has gone crazy.” This was an indication of Isaias being out of touch from the ordinary people, but his alienation from the people was further illustrated to me by another person again with a fable of the highland peoples.
The next day when I was sharing my surprise with a neighboring man who headed a family of eight, he told me a story of an old man, his children, and a tailless donkey. The story goes: as one of the children of the old man was getting married, the old man sent his children to buy gold jewelry as a gift for the bride as it was the custom of his culture. Then, the kids put the gold necklace they had bought on the neck of a rabbit to see how it looks. The rabbit noticed how expensive and pretty it looked on her and ran away with the jewelry. The children were so worried about what happened and how they were going to explain it to their father. But, the youngest of the children told his siblings not to worry and he told them that there would be no problem with their father because their father worried much about other people’s business than his. When they returned home, the father asked how their day went, and they replied fearfully, “Ok, but we lost the gold necklace to a rabbit.” Just when the father was about to raise his voice angrily, the youngest of the children said, “But father, we witnessed worse things in the market today.” Puzzled how there could be worse situation than loosing a golden necklace to a rabbit; the father asked what had they seen. The child replied, “We saw a donkey without a tail.” The father went on and on and on about the problems the donkey’s owners were going to have in getting it to carry its load for the whole evening. “How are they going to keep the load from going too forward away from the back of the donkey?” the old man was asking. As the child had said, he was worried sick about other people’s business while he had lost a very expensive gold cross necklace to a rabbit.1** The moral of the story was obvious to me, but the neighbor further carried on and asked me, “Why must I listen to a man who does not talk about what is important to me? How should I care about what is going on inside Ethiopia, Somalia, Sudan or the USA when I am worried about how I am going to feed my family? Let their governments worry about them. [Referring to the numerous Ethiopian languages broadcast on the State Media] Why doesn’t he use the money he is spending on these broadcasts to buy wheat for his people instead? If he was talking about the price of cereals or the increase of rations in the number of the loaves of breads or other items, we would have listened, but he does not talk about what matters to us.” I knew why Isaias was lecturing about conditions in neighboring countries. I said to myself that at least the old man in the story seems to genuinely worry about the troubles of others. Isaias did not really care about the troubles of Somalis, Ethiopians, and Sudanese or Americans. He was just looking for reasons to weaken the Meles Zenawi-led regime in Ethiopia so that he may fulfill and stroke his constant Narcissistic obsession of appearing as the “big-boy” in that corner of Africa. For Isaias and many Eritreans, TPLF/EPRDF-led by Meles Zenawi is unfairly seen as the disobedient stepson whom they raised as a child that turned up to be disloyal because he is now an independent man who thinks for himself rather than march to his stepfather’s orders. Isaias and his regime seem to be fixated in trying to show the Ethiopian regime that Ethiopia and TPLF/EPRDF-led by Meles Zenawi can not function or exist without Isaias’ help.
Apparently, the speech/interview of the president came in the background of numerous economic hardships that were being endured by the people of Eritrea. Unlike the old days of getting any amount of bread one can afford from the bakeries of Asmara, daily fixed rations of only five loaves per family regardless of number of people in the family was the order of the day. This was being put up by each family in the towns and cities such as Mendefera. The price of the staple grain of Eritrea (Taff) was 40 Naqfas per Kilo or ($2.50 per Kilo). Coca Cola had become an “Independence–day-only” drink. Diesel had disappeared. Benzene was 42 Naqfa ($3) per litter. Aid agencies had either been shutdown or expelled left and right. While the people were struggling with food supply, the government was preaching the mantra of “self-reliance” as if the Eritrean people were lacking dignity, avoided hard work, or were incapable of leading their own lives with out the intrusion of the government. As I searched for reasons for the economic hardships, such as, the ration and high prices, I discovered that the private importers of wheat flour had been forbidden to do business and the Red Sea 09 Corporation (owned by the party) was the only business allowed to import materials from outside. The official reason given for the prohibition of importing businesses was that the flour importers had jacked up prices illegally. The flour sector was not the only economic segment that was impacted by government rules however. The government was strangling and choking international business and domestic enterprises from their roots. In the old days, there were flourishing oil companies such as, Shell (Dutch), Total (French), Agip (Italian), and Mobil (American) gas stations. Now, only the Libyan owned company known as Tamoil seems to have gas stations. Other private small businesses owned by local and Diaspora Eritrean friends and relatives of mine were being closed left and right, too.
In one of my travels, as I rushed to get to Asmara, I was being induced to board by a middle aged woman to her small bus. Since I was in hurry, I was tempted to board after I asked her if her bus was full. But hearing the comment of my companions, I hesitated. The woman lashed out. “Traitors, why don’t you board our buses, we are trying to make a living, too. What a deserter society?” she cried. I did not know why, but the woman immediately captured our sympathy. My uncle who was a former fighter for EPLF and still part of the regular military recognized that she was a former fighter. It was clear to us that no traditional woman spoke so openly and directly in such terms and gestures. We told her that there was no problem, and we were going to ride her bus and that she ought to be hopeful. As I inquired what was going on, my uncle explained to me that the private bus owners were losing business to the newer and non-stopping minibuses of the “HARAT” share corporation. As the company name suggests, it is supposed to be a share company, but it is widely believed to be a company of "the Colonels.” I asked another companion how that could be, and the answer again was that business men were not those who were wealthy anymore. If one wanted to see wealth in Eritrea, he must look to “The Colonels.” Return to |
A Personal Account of a Trip to Eritrea
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