November 4, 2005
Eid ul-Fitr in Addis Ababa
It started at 6.00 or 12.00 Ethiopian time yesterday morning. At least twelve huge explosions from somewhere near our compound rattled the windows and shook books and bric-a-brac on the shelves. Every three or four blasts there was a pause - just long enough for you to think it was all over – then they started again, apparently getting closer.
The phones started ringing as people tried to work out what was going on. The first thought was an artillery bombardment – but there were just the bangs, no whistling shells. Others thought the army was just trying to scare people by firing off huge blanks from their bases around Janmeda. If that was their intention, they were doing a good job.
Out on the streets, a passing worker just shrugged and came up with the real explanation. "It is the Muslims," he said. "They have a big celebration."
Yesterday was the day that Ethiopian Muslims marked the end of their long Ramadan fast with the festival of Eid ul-Fitr. Someone in the Islamic hierarchy had decided that the 12 mortar-style blasts was the best way to kick of a day of joyful celebrations – an interesting choice given the events of the past 48 hours.
The early morning explosions were the first of a series of mixed signals and false alarms that kept stepping up the tension throughout the day. The sound of distant machine gun fire turned out to be a man hammering on a piece of wood. Another mortar blast turned out to be a crash between two metal rubbish carts. Walking down Churchill Road later in the morning, I saw a packed crowd on tens of thousands of young men running up towards the Piazza. At first sight it looked like a re-run of June 8 but on a much larger scale.
A few minutes later I was in the middle of the Eid ul-Fitr celebrations again – vast crowds of young people singing religious songs, dancing and shouting out 'I Love You' to passing ferengis. Three trucks filled with heavily armed red-beret wearing Special Forces came round the corner. The crowd just parted and let them through.
Lots of other people have written about the violence – the killings on the streets, the horrible injuries in the hospitals - over Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. Blogs and other online news sources have done a particularly good job – look at Global Voices, Satisfy My Soul (Ego) and Nazret.com. Some of the most shocking stories were about the young people caught up in the violence. Wednesday was without doubt the worst day of all with the sound of real heavy machine gun fire and ambulance sirens coming from all sides.
The part that is most difficult to put into words is the ongoing oppressive feeling of worry and tension that remains even when the soldiers and protesting crowds have gone. It is a tension which has paralysed the whole city and emptied whole districts, shops closed and taxis nowhere to be seen. It is caused by rumours of outrages as much as by the events themselves.
Most of the people I know are staying at home, locked up in their houses and compounds. A few have ventured out to stock up on food, emptying the shelves in Bambis supermarket.
One thing that is not helping is the total absence of news on the streets – except for the official state-owned papers and radio stations. There is not a single private paper on sale today. Arat Kilo, which is normally packed with newspaper hawkers and readers taking turns with each paper, is totally deserted. I have heard plenty of explanations for this strange absence. One local editor told me they had decided not to print this week's edition after hearing bundles of newspapers were being seized at the printing presses.
All we are left with are vague reports of violence on the outskirts of the city or in other towns - everywhere from Arba Minch to Bahir Dar according to the rumours. When you get there, the road is either blocked with soldiers or the storm has passed over leaving only a burned out truck or piles of stones behind it.
The other main presence is the steady stream of Special Forces and federal police, packed into a variety of Armoured Personnel Carriers, gleaming new Humvees and open "technical"-style trucks. Back in June, they just sat in the back of their vehicles, holding their assault rifles upright between their legs. Yesterday you could see them hunched ready in a firing position with their rifle butts steady against their shoulders and their eyes staring down the barrels.
Posted by aheavens at November 4, 2005 12:10 PM