Pirates of Somalia by Jay Bahadur
Authors: Jay Bahadur
Tags: África, History, Travel, Military, Political Science, Security (National & International), Naval, North
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Abdi once explained to me. “They can’t control themselves.” Indeed, those who prepped me for my own khat experience agreed that the drug would bring about one of two scenarios: I would either become relaxed and talkative, or a sex-crazy maniac bent on immediate satiation. But after all the buildup, I didn’t feel much of anything. Four hours of chewing the bitter filth made me sweaty, jittery, sick to my stomach, and, finally, mildly contented. It did not strike me as an equitable trade-off, yet those who can afford it spend their days chewing khat leaves like a cow on her cud.
In the end, I chewed khat six or seven times during my visits to Puntland, out of perverse pragmatism. In spite of a lifetime of exposure to anti-drug public service ads, I continued chewing simply to fit in. More accurately, I discovered that khat was an incredible interviewing tool; it rendered my interviewees relaxed and talkative, with a compelling urge to express themselves. Interviews could go on for hours so long as the khat continued to flow.
* * *
There are few comprehensive academic studies of the Somali khat trade, and any attempt to obtain accurate information on the khat economy suffers from the general dearth of official statistics about Somalia. The latest government figures come from a 2003 report by the Puntland Ministry of Planning and Statistics, which devotes less than one of its sixty pages to the topic. Concluding with the vague assertion that “khat trade and consumption play an adverse role in the Somali economy in general and particularly in Puntland,” the report nonetheless provides some concrete figures (see Table 1 ). 7
These statistics are enough to construct a rudimentary sketch of the Puntland khat industry of eight years ago. Urban street prices for khat, according to my sources, have remained fairly steady at twenty dollars per kilogram over the last decade (in remote areas the price can be almost double), suggesting that total revenues in 2003 fell just short of $51 million. Using the UN Development Programme’s 2006 Puntland population estimate of 1.3 million, the per capita consumption rate would be around 2.1 kilograms per person. However, khat consumers in Puntland are almost without exception men, and after narrowing the field to males aged fifteen and over, 8 annual per capita consumption climbs to 9.1 kilograms, worth about $180. Other sources support this estimate; for example, a 2001 study by the UN’s Water and Sanitation Programme found that poor consumers (the vast majority of Puntlanders) spent an average of $176 per year on the drug.
These numbers, however, are from the pre-piracy era. How might they look in 2011? Attempting to gauge piracy’s effect on khat sales in Puntland, I spoke to three Garowe-based merchants. The first was the aforementioned Fadumo, a bored-looking middle-aged woman with stylish beige sunglasses pushed up on the headdress of her fuchsia guntiino (a garment similar to a sari). My second conversation was with a pair of close friends in their late twenties, Maryan and Faiza, who owned side-by-side stalls in the khat suq . (I later discovered that Maryan—probably the most stunning Somali woman I had ever seen—was a member of Garaad’s rumoured harem of wives, a fact she admitted with an embarrassed giggle, asking how I had learned of it.) 9
Fadumo worked long hours, from ten in the morning until ten at night. Her most profitable period was from one to three in the afternoon, when government employees got off work; four o’clock, the time that construction workers finished their day, heralded another mini rush hour. Her best days came at the end of the month, when soldiers were paid, and the two or three times per year that Puntland’s parliament was in session. “When there’s an election, that’s the very best time,” she said, because each candidate would arrive with a large entourage in tow, filling Garowe’s hotels to capacity.
When asked how piracy
In the end, I chewed khat six or seven times during my visits to Puntland, out of perverse pragmatism. In spite of a lifetime of exposure to anti-drug public service ads, I continued chewing simply to fit in. More accurately, I discovered that khat was an incredible interviewing tool; it rendered my interviewees relaxed and talkative, with a compelling urge to express themselves. Interviews could go on for hours so long as the khat continued to flow.
* * *
There are few comprehensive academic studies of the Somali khat trade, and any attempt to obtain accurate information on the khat economy suffers from the general dearth of official statistics about Somalia. The latest government figures come from a 2003 report by the Puntland Ministry of Planning and Statistics, which devotes less than one of its sixty pages to the topic. Concluding with the vague assertion that “khat trade and consumption play an adverse role in the Somali economy in general and particularly in Puntland,” the report nonetheless provides some concrete figures (see Table 1 ). 7
These statistics are enough to construct a rudimentary sketch of the Puntland khat industry of eight years ago. Urban street prices for khat, according to my sources, have remained fairly steady at twenty dollars per kilogram over the last decade (in remote areas the price can be almost double), suggesting that total revenues in 2003 fell just short of $51 million. Using the UN Development Programme’s 2006 Puntland population estimate of 1.3 million, the per capita consumption rate would be around 2.1 kilograms per person. However, khat consumers in Puntland are almost without exception men, and after narrowing the field to males aged fifteen and over, 8 annual per capita consumption climbs to 9.1 kilograms, worth about $180. Other sources support this estimate; for example, a 2001 study by the UN’s Water and Sanitation Programme found that poor consumers (the vast majority of Puntlanders) spent an average of $176 per year on the drug.
These numbers, however, are from the pre-piracy era. How might they look in 2011? Attempting to gauge piracy’s effect on khat sales in Puntland, I spoke to three Garowe-based merchants. The first was the aforementioned Fadumo, a bored-looking middle-aged woman with stylish beige sunglasses pushed up on the headdress of her fuchsia guntiino (a garment similar to a sari). My second conversation was with a pair of close friends in their late twenties, Maryan and Faiza, who owned side-by-side stalls in the khat suq . (I later discovered that Maryan—probably the most stunning Somali woman I had ever seen—was a member of Garaad’s rumoured harem of wives, a fact she admitted with an embarrassed giggle, asking how I had learned of it.) 9
Fadumo worked long hours, from ten in the morning until ten at night. Her most profitable period was from one to three in the afternoon, when government employees got off work; four o’clock, the time that construction workers finished their day, heralded another mini rush hour. Her best days came at the end of the month, when soldiers were paid, and the two or three times per year that Puntland’s parliament was in session. “When there’s an election, that’s the very best time,” she said, because each candidate would arrive with a large entourage in tow, filling Garowe’s hotels to capacity.
When asked how piracy
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