The following letter was written by Sean on 15th November 1992 and sent from Somalia to the U.K., whereupon it was published in a number of media outlets. Less than 2 months later, in the beginning of January 1993, Sean was murdered.

Greetings to the Parishioners of St. Swithun’s, Yateley and to all my friends in the Salesian Provinces of England and Ireland.

A few words to keep you in touch on how your kind donations are utilized here in the “Horn of Africa”. I have heard some refer to Somalia as the “Hell of Africa” – I suppose a fair comment……but not entirely true. I took up a UNICEF posting here in September after concluding my time with the Salesians and the UN in Liberia. It seems that I have gone from the frying pan into the fire, but I also like to think of it as an enriching, broadening experience.

No doubt you have been exposed to the horror pictures of starving children. Sadly, it is a reality that has been brought about by Man’s greed and not by natural disaster. There is no real drought in Somalia. It is a country which, prior to the war, exported rice and sugar in abundance; nomads wandered peacefully with their camels, goats and cattle, living a relatively healthy life. Everything was then turned upside down because of the greed and ego of certain men. Siad Barre, the former dictator, General Aideed, Morgan and Ali Mahadi, the so-called warlords are the usual names mentioned in this battle of power. But one must add to the list: the US Congress, the former Soviet Politburo, the Italian and British parliaments; apparently a noble collection of men and women, who, over the years approved the production and delivery of weapons of destruction to Somalia – for its own self-interest of course. The greed starts here.

Today in Somalia, in the Southern part of Kismayo, I cannot walk from my house to my office (a distance of 400 metres) without heavily armed bodyguards. Thousands upon thousands of men in Somalia have their own weapons…..they tell me this is for “survival”. Boys of 14 years live out their Rambo fantasies, believing they are fighting for freedom. They are so blind….but who can blame children. In Kismayo I wander through the market, checking the prices of looted UN food – wheat, rice, beans etc., and I see next to the bananas and camel meat – AK47s, Kalashnikovs, Barrettas, M16s, Bazookas, varying in price from $75 up to $200 – all made in the so-called “civilized world”. Next door to my home is a shack with the sign “SPARE PARTS”. Sadly it’s not for cars but for weapons, again made in the “civilized world”. We have a lot to answer for and you at home can do something by lobbying your MPs.

The relief work here is extreme in all senses. The needs are massive, but the obstacles are also enormous. Normally, the UN, ICRC, and other NGOs have certain ground rules before they start to work, such as reasonable security on the ground; their own flagged vehicles that do not carry guns and the freedom to move and work independently to bring assistance to a people that they decide are in need. Somalia is regrettably the exception.

UNICEF, like every other relief group, are forced to hire gunmen to protect their offices and houses. We hire looted cars that are escorted by armed men in order to move around. We pay through the nose at every stage to bring the donated relief items to the needy – at the port and the airport, for docking and landing fees, to porters to offload the goods, to truckers to transfer the goods to the warehouses and distribution centres. But sadly, in many cases the beneficiaries are the market men and the various militias and not the innocent women, children and farmers who are most in need.

The gun dictates everything here, and the biggest gun has the most power – Somalia now is simply lawless – the relief agencies, whose mandate is to reach the dying no matter what, acknowledge that we are subject to blackmail and extortion. But perhaps in some ways, by accepting this, we are perpetuating the conflict by providing finance for these gunmen to buy more bullets which end up killing more people. The authorities, which vary from place to place depending on which clan is in power, seek to involve themselves in our work but only to squeeze out of us every penny that we have. Essentially they are the black Mafioso!

Perhaps we have got everything wrong then. Maybe we should all pull out until the Somalis with the guns allow us to work freely. What if they say no? Perhaps the UN should send in 20,000 no-nonsense troops, ignoring the warlords’ objections and impose a safety chain for the secure delivery of the relief supplies. Perhaps we should ignore their warlords’ arguments that we are imposing on their sovereignty. They know as well as we do that the country and its society have degenerated and fractionalised to such a base level that arguments of sovereignty and self-dignity are now simply rubbish. I know from talking to the average Somali citizen that they are crying out for the UN to take over.

The reality is that the various relief groups stay and struggle with the harassment and intimidation because innocent children are dying of starvation NOW – and their presence does make a difference.

UNICEF are involved in special intensive feeding and health care for the severely malnourished, and our supplies brought in by Gennan and Canadian Air Force Hercules planes are generally well-secured. We tend to succeed in getting this relief through to the children. Thankfully feeding centres are now full of healthy and noisy kids. The general food distribution by ship however is less successful. In our last consignment of 3,000 tons of wheat to Kismayo less than 30% reached the target groups. We paid $160,000 to trucking contractors, all armed militias of course, to transport the food, with elders from the various villages and towns, who were supposed to escort the items. The food in most cases did not arrive, either because the elders made a deal with the truckers to divert the food to the market, or because it was intercepted by a group of bandits with bigger guns. The one good thing is that the looted food floods the market and the prices drop incredibly; now one bag of wheat (50kg) is worth 6,000 Somali shillings – about 1.00 US Dollar – a price that many can afford, but still there are many with nothing.

In Kismayo today we have 50,000 displaced people, mainly farming families living in camps on the periphery of the town. They receive a cooked meal every day from JCRC (a dry ration would only be looted). Now our aim is to resettle back to their farms along a very fertile river valley – only 150 kms away – instead of reinforcing their dependents upon us and allowing this pathetic waste of manpower. UNICEF hopes to provide transport back to their homes with a resettlement package of food for two months, seeds for one year, materials to rebuild their homes, tools to farm their land and trained community health workers to ensure the appropriate distribution of UNICEF’s drugs. By the next planting season, April 1993, we hope the displaced camps of Kismayo will have disappeared. But so much depends on security. These people will not move back to areas where there is fighting. The various clans must first agree to stop fighting. TIME WILL TELL.

Life for myself is very up and down. I get so frustrated and fed-up when I have to deal with the authorities, the guards and the contractors. Their greed is sickening. In contrast I get such a lift when I get a chance to move out into the field and see how the feeding centres and health posts are running, and to regain contact with the more gentle face of humanity. Last week we cleaned the excrement and the mortars off the towns’ football field and had a Soccer and Athletics tournament for the kids of the displaced camps. The Somalis can really run… one clocked 12.5 secs for 100m. Compared to the Liberians they were useless at soccer. Salesian school, Chertsey U12 team would have beaten their “big lads” with ease!

Next to the football pitch is an open field with hundreds of earth mounds. These are the graves of children who died six months ago. The contrast is so stark – but as I watched the energy and laughter of the children as they kicked the ball it brought home to me the message that where there is life there is always hope.