Beauregard Tromp
Cape Argus
October 11 2006
"We stood like this." His hands in the air, legs together and face theatrically impassive, Abdullahi Hussein Mohamadi cuts a tall, gaunt figure in his baggy trousers and sweater.
He stands in front of his shop where a tiny opening no more than 30cm by 40cm is the only window by which his customers can view his wares and by which all trade is conducted.
Like most refugees from Somalia, Abdullahi ventured from his anarchic hometown of Mogadishu in search of prosperity, stability and peace. In magazines, on radio and from people who had family members in South Africa the country sounded enthralling.
At the port on the outskirts of the capital, largely controlled by pirates, there are plenty of rogues willing to whisk their passengers along to the lands of their dreams.
"I came with a boat that works with the weather.
"We stood like this," he said, holding his arms up and legs together.
Standing, his slight, gaunt frame held up by the other 20 or so fellow refugees, the boat docked six days and $300 (about R2 315) later in Beira, Mozambique - $300 per passenger, of course.
It was the beginning of Abdullahi's journey as he travelled by taxi down towards the border with South Africa, closer to his Promised Land.
Working his way through the country, Abdullahi finally ended up at Bellville station, so often the gateway to the Cape for local and foreign visitors.
Abdullahi sought refuge with other Somali traders who were selling an assortment of snacks among the taxis and commuters bustling about the station area.
A year later Abdullahi opened his own shop and two years ago opened his shop in the main road of Masiphumelele where he sells an assortment of fresh vegetables and often-needed items, like sugar, coffee and rice.
He is reluctant to discuss the events of two months ago when a mob of more than 200 locals marched on Somali businesses and making off with stock and refrigerators.
Many of his countrymen have vowed never to return to Masiphumelele but Abdullahi opened his shop a week after the incident.
"Where else must I go? My business is here.
"It was the problem of jealousy from business people. Now it is over and we don't want to start that again," he said.
He denies the frequent allegations that Somalis keep themselves isolated, arguing that he lives in Masiphumelele himself and has friends in the community.
Source: Cape Argus, Oct. 11, 2006