How I spent a Night in a Brothel

It was in 1985 and many of the Ethiopian refugees in Somalia had been repatriated to Ethiopia, following a tripartite agreement between the two governments and the UNHCR, the United Nations Refugee Agency. The Somali Government had agreed that those refugees who did not wish to return would be allowed to remain in the country and be integrated within their areas of residence. It was in this connection that the technical unit of the UNHCR undertook a multi-sectoral mission to Somalia to assess the self-reliance of the remaining refugees and determine what further assistance was required to ensure their local settlement that would enable UNHCR to phase out its assistance. This was a five-person mission, in which I was the only woman.

After initial meetings in Mogadishu, we proceeded on the mission to the south of the country, to get to the refugee locations. We were to spend the first night in Merka, a small seaside town. In terms of accommodation, we were assured that the seaside huts in the Merka Resort were a major attraction and that we would enjoy spending the night in them. They were traditional huts on the coast which offered a touristic experience. “Wow”, I thought, “This rest would well prepare us for the difficult journey ahead.”

On our way to Merka, while admiring the beautiful countryside, our conversation drifted to the subject of spiders. One of our colleagues who claimed to be an expert on spiders, told us that some of the most dangerous spiders, such as the black widow existed in Somalia. There was some argument about whether this was true before the conversation ended.

After a long drive we arrived at the beach “resort”. To my utmost surprise it looked nothing like the image that had been painted to us. The huts were sensational, but obviously intended for pioneering young tourist couples. They were round one-roomed, with a double bed in the middle and a door which led to rudimentary toilet facilities.

Allocation of the huts was simple, except that as the only female on the mission, I had to be allocated a hut to myself. I was pleased, until I realized that there was no electricity.

“So how do I pass the night in the dark alone, with the fear of the spiders I had heard about during the drive from Mogadishu?” I asked myself. I was obviously not going to sleep. I would just sit on my bed until morning. I took out my torchlight and prayed that the battery would not run out overnight. My colleagues jokingly offered that I shared a hut with one of them, although they knew I would not agree to that. What should I do?

Some relief came early in the evening when the head of the mission announced that there was a restaurant nearby, where we could have dinner before retiring for the night. So we got into our vehicle and drove to the restaurant. The menu had my favorite exotic sea food and to console myself I ordered the best they had to offer. Price was no problem.

While eating, I noticed that there were some rooms in the building above the restaurant, which I assumed were rooms to let. So I asked our head of mission if he could find out if there was a room to let to prevent me going back to the hut. He went to speak with the manager and came back with the good news. Yes, there was accommodation to let, but only two rooms were available. I quickly pleaded that one should go to me, and this was agreed. The other room was allocated to the head of mission. The driver went to the hut and brought my luggage and I was given the key to my room.

I should have been surprised when before my colleagues left and promised to pick us up in the morning, they had a strong advice for me. “Get into your room, bolt and lock the door securely and whatever happens, unless it is a fire do not open the door or let anyone in”. I thanked them and they left. I proceeded to my room and was impressed with its cleanliness. I wondered why they did not know about the existence of this accommodation, to have booked us all there in good time. I had a shower, but remembering the advice I had received, I bolted the door securely and went to bed. I could hear some to and fro movements on the floor, but that did not bother now that I was securely locked up in my room, and I fell asleep before long.

Relieved and exhausted, I slept soundly and woke up in the morning, well prepared for our long trip the next day. My colleagues arrived to pick us up and seemed amused. One had a cunning smile.

“What is funny?” I asked innocently.

“Well, he replied. You just spent your first night in a brothel!”

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