why?, page-35

re: black hawk down - propaganda Well , got your story from the Greenleft Weekly, trust them no worries!....

Ever Wonder what the kids were doing."
Read the last paragraph, there are no "kids" in somalia, only physically challenged combatants.

A first-hand view of war
Green visited Somalia last month to assess Oxfam's relief efforts. She traveled with three armed guards at all times in Somalia, she said.

"As you go further out, the security situation becomes precarious," Green said. "When I went to a countryside town, Baidoa, the situation was drastic. People are starving to death ... so much that the burial of the dead has become a health hazard."

People lay out bodies on the side of the road, where they are picked up by relief trucks. "When you drive by, you see these rows of bodies laid out by the road. It's an outrage that it is happening," Green said.

Somalis dwelling in the remote villages walk many miles to the refugee camps. But many die on the way or when they finally reach their destinations.

The surviving Somalis are trying to cope with the crisis. Although most resources are donated by foreign nations, Somalis staff the relief centers and distribute food, according to Green.

Normal life has become impossible for Somalis. "Thirteen-year-olds were carrying grenade-launchers, automatic machine guns. ... There is the sound of guns going off every day," Green said.

The yanks are worse than this??

My Experience as a Somali.

By Rahma Maye.
Living in fear
This happened when I was eight years old during the war. It was an ordinary day. I was happy and playing outside by myself I was in the capital city of Somalia which is known as Mogadishu. The sky was bright, clear and deep blue. A few small clouds drifted across the horizon.

I saw four men with guns, they were soldiers and massive with heavy, scowling, threatening faces.

I saw their faces. I froze. I simply couldn’t move. A dreadful heavy feeling sank through me. My whole body was shaking.

A women was wearing a scarf and her body was covered. She was tall, attractive and slim. She had a little baby in her arms close by her side and two shopping bags in her hands.

When the woman was passing the soldiers shouted 'stop'. She stopped. They ordered her to come to them. She did as she was told.

They stood in a circle around her, a ring of giants, a line of frightening statues. They told her to empty her pockets.

She replied "I haven’t got anything apart from these bags which have food in them for my kids who haven’t eaten for the last three days."

One of the soldiers said "check her pockets".

"Her pockets are empty boss", said the soldier

When they couldn’t find any money from her pocket they decided to kill her. She begged them not to because she had got small kids depending on her, who would have no one else to look after them. They ignored what she was saying. They shot her. She screamed. I cried. The baby fell to the ground.

Her blood was pouring like a river. She lay in a pool of blood, which was crimson. I was horrified and crying out loud therefore they heard me. They shouted to me to go home, I ran away and looked beck and saw the baby crawling and crying, saying "Mama", "Mama". I also saw the soldiers taking the bags.

They trampled over her body like a herd of elephants. Her blood was pouring like the water in the river.

I went home, but when I got to the door realised that they could have gone by that time. I went back to that place to find the baby so I could take him to my house. But he wasn’t there. I tried to look around but I couldn’t find him.

There I was in a good mood, playing outside and enjoying myself and I suddenly ended up with tears, sadness, a terrible feeling because of what had happened. I didn’t know who to cry for, the mother who left lots of kids who depended on her, the little baby who was crying for his mum and didn’t have anyone else, or the kids who were waiting at home for their mum to give them food.