I’m traveling to the remote mountains of Northern Somalia where frankincense and myrrh are harvested, to examine the trade ethics and sustainability on the supply side of my 2Mages business. This trip was made possible by a generous subsidy (RVO-SVOM) of the Dutch government.
Day 1: Thursday 06 August. Hargeisa, Somaliland. PAPERWORK PROBLEMS
I buy all my frankincense and myrrh resins in Somaliland. Doing business in an unrecognised country has several drawbacks. The difficulty of travelling in the country as a foreigner and transferring money here are the two main obstacles I deal with on my first day in the country.
Hargeisa is the capital of the unrecognised state of Somaliland. I was posted here as deputy director of the International NGO Safety Organisation exactly 10 years ago, early August 2016, and I stayed for nearly two years. In 2019 and 2020 I came back a few times doing research for my PhD on The State in Somalia, and for a consultancy on developing the Somali cultural sector.
Six years later I’m amazed by how little has changed, and also by how familiar everything seems to me, as if I just left this place a week ago. The same potholed, dusty roads, grubby buildings, teeming traffic inching along chaotically, rickety market stalls and laid-back attitude, interrupted only by the nervous qat trucks honking their way through the crowds to get their precious fresh narcotic leaves to customers.
The small airport, also, hasn’t changed a bit. I am denied a visa upon arrival because I do not have a sponsorship letter from a local institution. When I point out that Somaliland’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs website expressly states that business travellers do not need a sponsorship letter but can obtain a visa on arrival, the official I’m dealing with shrugs and states that the website must be changed. A few phone calls by the Somali staff of my old employer and a hastily written ‘sponsorship letter’ fix the problem, and after an hour waiting I am allowed to pay for my 60$ single entry visa.
I am careful not to mention that I already have a visa, issued by the federal government of Somalia in Mogadishu. If the immigration officials here heard that I have paid 110$ for an electronic travel authorization (as that visa is called) they would get angry, my Somaliland friends have advised me. The federal government has exercised no control over Somaliland since it seceded in 1991: that is 35 years ago. Why then did I bother to get that ETA? Because the airline would not let me board the flight in Dubai without one.
Less than a year ago the government in Mogadishu convinced its international partners that because it still officially exercises control over Somaliland, it should be paid visa costs for foreign visitors heading there. This is clearly only meant for income generation, and most of the money undoubtedly disappears into private pockets of government employees: the internationally supported federal government of Somalia is widely seen as the most corrupt one on earth. And who could reconcile ETAs issued vs actual visitors, since the federal government has no access to immigration records in Somaliland? I should have flown through the Ethiopian capital, Addis. Ethiopian Airlines rightly ignores the federal government ETA requirement, but FlyDubai, the only other reliable international connection to Somaliland, implements it. I felt very sorry for an entire Somali family turned down at the check-in counter in Dubai last night because they lacked ETAs.
This entire trip has been difficult. It started out with a message about my Emirates flight that due to conflict in the Persian Gulf, the flight was rerouted and would arrive an hour later. That left only one hour for my connecting flight, departing from another terminal. Since none of the flight booking platforms (skyscanner, expedia, edreams etc) seems to offer Hargeisa as a destination, I had booked both flights separately on the airline’s own websites, meaning I had no protection in case I missed my second flight. One hour was very tight but not impossible. But then the flight from Paris left 30 minutes late, for inexplicable reasons, and by the time we disembarked boarding had already closed for my connecting flight. The next flight to Hargeisa was only two days later, so I lost two days in Dubai…
After buying my visa and letting successive employees in the empty airport carefully check my visa, the receipt for acquiring it, my passport and baggage tags, I head out of the airport. I am tired but must get on with the day that has just started.
Outside, Abdullahi ‘Indho’ is waiting for me. ‘Indho’ means eyes. Since all Somalis have similar names, they are often known by their nicknames, usually bestowed playfully by friends. My nickname is Abdi Dheere – tall Abdi, Abdi being like ‘John’, the most common Somali name imaginable, and thus funny for a tall Dutchman like me. Indho is an experienced driver recommended by Markus Hoehne, an academic expert on Somalia who helped me a lot on my PhD and who has become a friend. Markus and Indho have travelled together for twenty years. I have once travelled through Somaliland with Indho, and we are glad to see each other again. It helps that Indho speaks reasonable English.
He brings me to the Ali Jirde hotel downtown. I like this stylish, small boutique hotel, also because of its central location. After checking in I’m careful not to rest – I have barely slept last night because of travels, and if I relax I will fall asleep and waste away this precious morning. On Thursday at lunchtime the weekend begins, and I still need to sort out my escort and open a bank account before starting on my travels.
An armed escort is actually not necessary; to the contrary, having armed guards around makes me uncomfortable. In the areas I’m going there’s currently no conflict. Somaliland has only very marginally been affected by the problems of terrorism and piracy/banditry, and we’re not heading to the areas where this might be an issue. The only reason for taking an armed escort is that it has been made mandatory. It’s a way for the government to get foreigners to subsidise its armed forces. The system was put in place by the UN and the NGOs, as a way of transferring security risk from their own agencies to the local government. On previous research trips through the country I have avoided it, but on this trip I need the cooperation of local authorities, so I must comply.
The cost of the escort itself: 20$ per person per day, with two soldiers minimum, is not so high. But you must also rent a car for them. Actually, having two cars when going to remote locations in the mountains is a good idea. If one breaks down, we can continue with the second. But a car, including driver and fuel, costs 130-150$ per day (a litre of diesel costs more than a $ in Somaliland). And now I need to pay for two cars, also on days that we are not going to remote places. And I know from experience that everybody will expect me to pay for meals and any additional costs on the way.
My ex-colleagues, expert at these negotiations on behalf of NGOs with the security forces, focus on finding two soldiers with the right clan affiliations. Since the areas I will visit are inhabited mostly by members of the Haber Younes and Haber Je’lo clans of the Isaaq clan family, I want one of each clan, preferably from a subclan involved in resin harvesting. Indho is Warsangeli, a clan that is also influential in the area. His sub-clan is known for being easy going, well connected and they are also involved in the resins trade. This trio will provide a good balance that should allow us to solve most troubles we might run into (such as running over a goat and dealing with its angry owner).
In the meanwhile I go downtown to open a bank account. Up to now I have never been able to transfer money to the partners in Somaliland that I buy from. Since Somaliland is not recognized as a country, it is not connected to the SWIFT international financial transfers system. Previously I have paid my suppliers through the UK account of one of the founders of Beeyo Maal. She has kindly withdrawn the cash and brought it with her when she travels to Somaliland, quite a burden!
I hope to open an international account at Dahabshiil, a very savvy bank. It was one of the first to move into mobile money, telephone transfers, airtime as money, and its rates remain very low despite the premium service they offer). Who would guess that Somalia has one of the world’s best banks? If it was allowed to operate in Europe I would use it, but counter-terrorist financing legislation has closed the branches it used to have in European cities. The online banking works well though, if I can open an international account.
I get inside the bank before its front door closes for the weekend, but unfortunately I cannot open an account without a resident visa. I had expected that, but a representative of Dahabshiil in Dubai told me otherwise. It turns out he is wrong. The accounts clerk at the bank tells me I can register as a resident easily in Somaliland, but that seems to me a bit fraudulent, and anyhow I don’t have the time to spend on the prcess. I had a residence permit here in the past, and remember with a shudder how many dusty offices I had to go to and wait in to obtain it.
After returning from the bank I crash on my comfortable hotel bed for most of the afternoon, immediately falling fast asleep and skipping lunch. Then one of my Somali friends drops by to bring me to a qat-chewing session in one of the outskirts of the city. I am careful to chew only a small amount of leaves, about 10% of what Somalis chew, because experience has taught me that when I chew too much I can’t sleep. Although I object in general to the drug being taken – it ruins the Somali economy and the productivity of addicts – I cherish these sessions because people become mildly euphoric and talk about everything with relish; I always learn a lot about local politics, society and culture.
This ‘chew’ is with relatively important Somalilanders: an architect, a Swedish returnee, a business owner and a few others. I take some written notes of what they tell me and then return to my hotel. While eating a delicious fish and sorghum dish for dinner, I read two academic papers about frankincense conservation and sustainability issues, and then knock off. Tomorrow is Friday and I will have enough time to continue preparing my meetings and the workshop I plan to hold.
