IRIN Webspecial: A Decent Burial

Personal accounts: Berbera Executions

There is a grave yard on the outskirts of Berbera port, which used to be a waste ground. It is known as the Burao Shaykh area. On the edge of the graveyard, almost touching the neighbouring shanty town, a large, smooth mound of sand stands in eerie contrast to the individual piles of gravestones. It is a mass grave.

The site is notorious for a night-time execution carried out in late 1989, after which a mass grave was dug on the site for about 20 of the dead.

Today, a growing crowd of men, women and children lead the way to a known survivor of that night, Adan Ilmi Awale, who still lives in a small house nearby.

"I was sitting in a coffee shop that evening at about 8 p.m., when a group of soldiers came and arrested us. They caught about 20 men from the coffee shop and took us to this waste ground behind the houses. There were 21 of us together, and five in another group. They didn't ask us any questions - we were told to sit in a line. One soldier armed with a rifle stood behind each of us. We didn't look at each other.

"The one behind me put his rifle on my neck and told me to say my prayers. I only remember that shot, my own bullet. I don't know what happened to the others. I know I was left for dead, and I heard nothing more until I heard moaning nearby. Although I was in so much pain, I lay still for a long time and didn't make any noise, because I feared they would shoot me again. People were around me, dead or dying."

Adan's relatives show the bullet scar in his neck. They explain that, although he talks with some lucidity about that night, "his mind has been destroyed" -? he no longer really lives in the present.

Adan managed to stagger back to his house, near the execution site. His relatives said he appeared at about 10 p.m. and was received by his wife. According to her, nothing could be done that evening, despite the critical nature of his wound. Not only was there a curfew, but the wife was terrified of the soldiers who had carried out the executions. He was taken to the hospital in the morning, where he said he was protected by the doctors, along with two other survivors.

After he recovered, Adan - who used to work in the port - moved to a village nearby. He remained in Somaliland, and moved back to his house in Berbera in 1991. He now depends entirely on his relatives to look after him.

His story is corroborated by the owners of the coffee shop, who witnessed the rounding up of the men. Fatuma Ahmad, the now elderly owner of the shop, lost her husband, Abdullahi Ibrahim, the same night. At first, she did not want to revisit the night of the executions, and said it did no good to talk about it any more. "Why are you dragging it all up? What good can it do for us?" she pleaded.

But, as others standing in the shop insist on telling everything in detail, she joins in. She describes how the group of soldiers came, and how she ?- along with other women ?- followed them. As they followed at a distance, other men were taken from the street as the group moved towards the waste ground. Eventually, the soldiers told the women to go back or get shot.

Fatuma continued to follow, however, and saw the preparations for the execution.

"They faced the men to the soldiers, sitting down. Some of the soldiers stood in front, some stood behind. I remember when the command was called out. They shouted: First row! Then I ran. I heard the shots, but it all happened quickly and I don't remember looking at my husband. I just ran.

"I didn't return until morning. We, the women, came at about 6 a.m. and saw the dead bodies. I saw my husband among them. There were soldiers around, and they refused to let people take the bodies. Later a bulldozer came and dug a big grave."

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? 2001, UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs. All rights reserved.