Ambushed and shot by some Somali warlords who saw him as a threat to their cause, Ahmed Mumin Warfa is still not intimidated about speaking out in favor of human rights, free speech and grass-roots government.
He's just doing it in Utah instead of in his homeland on the eastern coast of Africa.Currently at work as a botanist in the herbarium of the Monte L. Bean Museum at Brigham Young University, Warfa is industriously searching out information about the genus Mertensia or central plant family in North America of boraginaceae (forget-me-nots).
He's at peace in the solitude of his work and pleased to be living in and commuting from the Salt Lake Valley to the museum each day.
But he still gets upset when he discusses the political situation in Somalia, where he was once on the staff at the University of Somalia as a professor of plant systematics. He was then also senior advisor for the United Nations peacekeeping operation in Somalia.
"My function, among other things, was to establish district councils, regional councils and reconciliation among the warring parties," said Warfa. His work was being conducted in a country of 61/2 million where a half-million have died from killings, starvation and disease. Another half-million, recruited as soldiers for a past regime, have come back into society and their clans but retain their military posture.
Warfa left his country after a series of life-threatening attacks, the last in February of 1994 when 10 gunmen armed with heavy machine guns, hand grenades and "all kinds of weapons" put five bullets into his left hip and right shoulder. Another bullet grazed his head.
"They wanted to kill me because they felt I blocked their progress, because I was working for peace, human rights and democracy among Somalis. I was talking to the elderly, the women and the intellectuals to unite them for the rebirth of Somalia on the basis of equal participation and equal opportunity. Some warlords say, `This man is a real threat.' "
Warfa was taken into surgery at a Pakistani hospital following the near-fatal ambush and then moved to Nairobi, Kenya, for his safety. After two years there, he was encouraged to seek political asylum in the United States, which he did.
He and his family were welcomed to Salt Lake City by Catholic Community Services. Shortly after his arrival, he sought and received a grant from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints welfare system to do research at BYU for two months. That has since been extended to eight months or until June of this year.
"What I do after June?" he shrugs. "I don't know." He feels the grant may be extended once again; if not, he feels opportunities are available in several areas for him.
He regrets that the opportunities for intellectuals in his country are limited, both by the political unrest and by the decisions some have made to ally themselves with the military regime.
Will he go back to his homeland? Would he like to do so? First off, there is no university to return to because the military has taken it over. Second, Warfa does not believe the country can regain its intellectual role. He believes he was fortunate to be able to leave Somalia. He does not expect he will be safe there again in the near future.
"The reason I was ambushed still exists. I still speak for human rights," said Warfa.
"I am of Utah now," said Warfa. "I belong to the society worldwide, wherever I am useful."