An old woman with a Somali flag wrapped around her takes a swing at a member of parliament. Groups of men sit around playing cards or chewing narcotic khat leaves. A warlord with a shaved head, sunglasses and a foot-long grey beard tells the press peace is at hand.
It's just another day at the Somali peace talks.
One year after negotiations aimed at ending Somalia's civil war began amid great optimism, the talks have little tangible to show for the effort -- or for the price tag, estimated at more than US$2 million.
If Somalia's situation weren't so tragic, the ballooning list of delegates, disputes with hotel owners and fisticuffs that marred the early phase of the talks could have been considered comical.
But more fundamental is whether the federal system of government being cobbled together at the talks will bring peace to a country ripped to shreds by 12 years of anarchic conflict.
Twice the facilitators have announced "major breakthroughs" on an interim constitution and the composition of parliament only to be rebuffed by key faction leaders.
"This is the end of this conference," the president of the transitional government, Abdiqassim Salad Hassan, said when the facilitators announced a deal on the interim charter last month. "Whoever is behind this treachery has succeeded in scuttling the peace process. The talks have totally collapsed."
Abdiqassim has since stayed out of the talks along with several powerful faction leaders and even one of the three organizing countries, Djibouti.
The facilitators insist the conference is on track -- "alive and well" in the words of James Kiboi, liaison officer for the organizing body, the regional Inter-Governmental Authority on Development.
Thirteen previous formal sets of negotiations since the regime of dictator Siad Barre collapsed in 1991 failed to achieve a comprehensive agreement between the country's fractious militia leaders.
The current talks were hailed as Somalia's best -- and possibly last -- chance for peace when they began on Oct. 15 last year. Key international players were all on side, including the US, the European Union, the Arab League and Somalia's neighbors. All faction leaders were invited and agreed to participate.
Within two weeks, a ceasefire deal was agreed, tinging the talks with even more optimism.
Yet the unravelling was already under way. The organizers lost control of the delegate list, as faction leaders tried to flex their muscles by having larger and larger entourages. At one point, more than 800 delegates were registered -- all eating and sleeping on the international community's tab at around US$100 a day each.
The host hotel refused to serve food one day over unpaid bills. One faction leader got into a fist-fight with a civil society delegate and some of his supporters beat up another delegate with a lead pipe.
Walkouts began in January as faction leaders called for the resignation of the mediator, Elijah Mwangale. He was replaced in February by a former Kenyan ambassador, Bethuel Kiplagat just as the conference endured a chaotic move to a run-down college campus on the edge of Nairobi as a cost-savings measure.
Kiplagat promised more transparency and his personal energy and enthusiasm gave new life to the conference. He focused discussion on how to create a federal system, devolving power to the regions -- a way of simultaneously devolving power to the clans, which hold the allegiance of most Somalis.
Next Tuesday, the clans are scheduled to begin naming people to the 351-member parliament, which in turn would select an interim president with a four-year mandate.
Some of the participants organized an event on Tuesday to mark one year since the talks began. National songs accompanied by a synthesizer and patriotic poetry over a distorted loudspeaker were the order of the day.
Outside the tent where the delegates gathered, Nur Hajji Omar, a refugee and former militia fighter shook his head.
"This is a sad day, there's nothing to celebrate," he said. "One year later, they're still killing, they're still fighting. These people should be ashamed of themselves."
In the sweltering streets of Jakarta, buskers carry towering, hollow puppets and pass around a bucket for donations. Now, they fear becoming outlaws. City authorities said they would crack down on use of the sacred ondel-ondel puppets, which can stand as tall as a truck, and they are drafting legislation to remove what they view as a street nuisance. Performances featuring the puppets — originally used by Jakarta’s Betawi people to ward off evil spirits — would be allowed only at set events. The ban could leave many ondel-ondel buskers in Jakarta jobless. “I am confused and anxious. I fear getting raided or even
Eleven people, including a former minister, were arrested in Serbia on Friday over a train station disaster in which 16 people died. The concrete canopy of the newly renovated station in the northern city of Novi Sad collapsed on Nov. 1, 2024 in a disaster widely blamed on corruption and poor oversight. It sparked a wave of student-led protests and led to the resignation of then-Serbian prime minister Milos Vucevic and the fall of his government. The public prosecutor’s office in Novi Sad opened an investigation into the accident and deaths. In February, the public prosecutor’s office for organized crime opened another probe into
RISING RACISM: A Japanese group called on China to assure safety in the country, while the Chinese embassy in Tokyo urged action against a ‘surge in xenophobia’ A Japanese woman living in China was attacked and injured by a man in a subway station in Suzhou, China, Japanese media said, hours after two Chinese men were seriously injured in violence in Tokyo. The attacks on Thursday raised concern about xenophobic sentiment in China and Japan that have been blamed for assaults in both countries. It was the third attack involving Japanese living in China since last year. In the two previous cases in China, Chinese authorities have insisted they were isolated incidents. Japanese broadcaster NHK did not identify the woman injured in Suzhou by name, but, citing the Japanese
RESTRUCTURE: Myanmar’s military has ended emergency rule and announced plans for elections in December, but critics said the move aims to entrench junta control Myanmar’s military government announced on Thursday that it was ending the state of emergency declared after it seized power in 2021 and would restructure administrative bodies to prepare for the new election at the end of the year. However, the polls planned for an unspecified date in December face serious obstacles, including a civil war raging over most of the country and pledges by opponents of the military rule to derail the election because they believe it can be neither free nor fair. Under the restructuring, Myanmar’s junta chief Min Aung Hlaing is giving up two posts, but would stay at the