• Today they’re home, grappling with joblessness, the Covid-19 risk and family problems.
• They slept in streets, an abandoned building, a tent. They were drenched by rain, bitten by mosquitoes. Finally forced their way back through Lamu where GSU helped.
Image: COURTESY
In January, seven Kenyans entered Somalia with high hopes of earning good money.
It didn't happen.
They had part of their pay but couldn’t reenter for months and were stuck in the border town of Ras Kamboni, 170km south of Kismayo. The border is sealed because of Covid-19 and other restrictions.
There’s a heavy KDF and Somali military presence because of al Shabaab terrorists.
The men ran out of money, slept in an abandoned building corridor, then a makeshift tent. Their sleeping space was flooded by cold rain and they were bitten by mosquitoes.
Today they’re home, grappling with joblessness, the Covid-19 risk and family problems.
Still, it’s home though not so sweet.
Here’s the story three of the men told the Star:
When they finished their welding job, they left Kismayo for the border town of Ras Kamboni on a peninsula near Lamu. The border earlier had been sealed because of smuggling, human trafficking and terror threats. It was sealed in May because of Covid-19.
They were stuck, their hopes dashed. They were emaciated, hungry, penniless and devastated.
Thirty-two-year-old Patrick Mwangala thought he would never see his family again when he came down with a terrible headache and fever.
"All I could think of was my seven-year-old daughter and mother back at home. A local doctor said I was suffering from depression," Patrick said.
They spent their first week in Ras Kamboni having been barred from re-entering Kenya through Lamu.
The last payment from their client, a Djibouti national, was spent. More was due but never paid.
“I had Sh30,000 when we went to Ras Kamboni,” 33-year-old Ignas Kialu said.
After a few days, all their money was spent on food and lodging, so they started sleeping on a verandah.
A good Samaritan gave them a place to sleep in a hallway in an abandoned building.
Then it rained, the place flooded.
“On some nights it poured and our sleeping place was waterlogged. We were forced to stand all night,” Kialu said.
The rain brought mosquitoes. When it wasn’t raining it was cold.
“We only had a mat to sleep on. We sometimes made a fire to warm ourselves if we found dry grass,” he said.
Martin Mwaghazi, 35, is still upset KDF soldiers in the town didn’t help them, even after ascertaining their story was genuine.
“In fact, they were really harsh with us. It was the Somali soldiers who gave us rice and flour after we had spent days without food,” Mwaghazi said.
The father of two had Sh20,000 in his pocket as his final welding payment, but it was quickly gone.
“We spent at least $5 (Sh537) on lodging for each of us, excluding food.
“When the money ended, we had to move to the streets.”
They knew there were terrorists in Somalia. Fear became their constant companion.
These fears were heightened when a group of boys threw rocks at the tent they had managed to set up.
“In Ras Kamboni, there are no streetlights and it gets very dark. We were really afraid of what else these guys could do to us Mwaghazi said.
Roles were reversed, as the providers turned to dependents on their families in Kenya. They had to ask them to send money to Kismayo.
“I felt so bad and ashamed that I was now depending on my mother and wife to send me money for survival. Life wasn’t any better for them back home,” Kialu said.
Fretting about family
His wife, Purity Moraa, a private school teacher, was evicted in May from their house in Mariakani, Mombasa, with their two children.
She is on unpaid leave as schools are closed to prevent the spread of Covid-10.
For Patrick Mwangala, it was difficult to stay strong and act as if everything was okay while talking to his daughter.
"I could not tell her that I was stuck in Somalia. She would always ask me if I had abandoned her and if I was ever coming back," he said.
Because of Covid-19 and joblessness, Martin Mwaghazi’s wife and two children had to relocate to their rural home in Bungoma county.
He was distressed thinking she had abandoned him at a time he needed her most.
"She later reassured me it was because she had to close her food kiosk and so lost her income,” Martin says. He is currently living in Mwatate, Voi.
Despite the lifting of the cessation of movement order in Mombasa, his wife is still stuck in Bungoma because she doesn’t have matatu fare.
"I miss her, I miss my two kids. It would be really great to have her with me as I recover from this experience," Mwaghazi said.
Dying to live
Apart from the three, other Kenyans who were stranded in Ras Kamboni included Abass Mutuku, Michael Mjala, Ellia Mwalili and Gabriel Otieno.
Rather than wait for death, the seven decided on June 15 to walk from Ras Kamboni to Kiunga, Lamu county, forcing their way into Kenya. Then they met GSU officers.
After interrogation, they were handed over to KDF officers who took them home on June 16.
However, it has been a rude welcome as they have had to grapple with the effects of Covid-19.
Their future is uncertain and the man who contracted them for the job has refused to pay their full dues.
"In Somalia, he gave us excuses that the client hadn’t paid, yet the client told us he had paid in December last year,” Mwangala said.
It’s home, thankfully, but it’s not so sweet.
(Edited by V. Graham)