Life goes on in Libya

May 11, 2001

A visit to Libyan leader, Col. Muammar Gaddafi's old house, which the Americans bombed on April 15, 1986, has won him a lot of sympathy.

By Yunusu Abbey in Tripoli, Libya A visit to Libyan leader, Col. Muammar Gaddafi's old house, which the Americans bombed on April 15, 1986, has won him a lot of sympathy. No wonder the African women who visited the tightly-guarded house on April 21 were almost in tears, and sharply criticised the Americans for the bombing. Over 300 delegates, who had converged in Tripoli for a pan-African women's conference, got the rare opportunity to visit the site under strict surveillance. However, the sorry state of the single-storeyed building and the damage inflicted there, prompted the delegates to strongly condemn the bombing and wondered what the Americans were up to. The angry women showered insults mainly on former US President Ronald Reagan who ordered the bombing. The raid left Gaddafi's three-year-old adopted daughter(Hana) dead and several others injured. Today, the bombed house, coated with Italian-made marble, is now a historical site to the Libyans and a tourist attraction. At least state guests are accorded the opportunity to visit this exclusive place and have an eye-witness account of what the Americans did to the Libyans. But it is easier to enter the White House in Washington D.C. or President Yoweri Museveni's Nakasero State House than entering Gaddafi's bombed palace in down town Tripoli. Whether you are state guests or otherwise, you have to be subjected to thorough checking and long waiting. Serious-looking and non-smiling soldiers stand guard as guests wait outside the gates before they undergo the security checks. This was the ordeal the African delegates encountered while on a visit to the palace on April 21. Ugandan ministers, MPs and other VIPs all had to wait in the chilly evening for almost three hours while undergoing security checks before they were finally allowed in. Heavily armed blue-beretted soldiers guard the first entrance to the palace where visitors undergo security checks. Soldiers in green berets, who guard the second gate, subject visitors to another check. At the third and final entrance, Gaddafi's elite and no-nonsense red-beretted presidential guards thoroughly check all visitors eager to see the bombed building. Given the thorough checks the team underwent, they all believed Gaddafi was somewhere waiting to meet them. A Ugandan Member of Parliament quipped: "Surely isn't the Great leader here? May be he is somewhere in a bunker watching us on closed circuit television. I do not think they would make us wait all that long and check us to that extent when we are only going to see a damaged structure." But the delegates were left agape when they finally entered the huge palace covering about 100 acres, only to see the bombed house facing them. The haggard-looking visitors faced another hurdle as there was a struggle with people shoving each other to enter the building. Above the ruins, a huge damaged concrete block with iron bars sticking out swung in the air as the wind blew it. Fears were rife that the building, which had remained untouched since the 1986 raid, could collapse due to the number of visitors who had jammed it. Allah Akbar (God is Great), nothing happened. At the reception on the ground floor, a huge visitors' book with signatures of different personalities, including heads of state, lies on an old wooden table. For about 45 minutes, people struggled to add their signatures in the "great" book. Inside the building, torn papers, books and other household property damaged during the invasion can be seen everywhere. Photographs of the bomb victims undergoing treatment in hospitals are hanging on the walls. Prayer rugs and floor carpets, glass shards, rusty, gold-plated spoons, forks, and kitchen utensils are strewn all over the Libyan strong man's house. Gaddafi's 10-foot bed–– covered in bulletproof glass, on top of which one of the bombs dropped and shattered–– still lies in its position. The glass on the sides is still intact, 15 years after the brutal attack. The damaged concrete walls are teetering, while clothes are strewn all over the floor. Turning to the Libyans' lifestyle, one would be surprised. Strolling around Tripoli, one sees the illustration of the freedom Gaddafi has granted Libyans, both men and women. Unlike in other strict Islamic countries where women have to wear veils, in Tripoli almost half of the women's population is wearing either trousers with blouses or dresses without veils. Only a few cover their heads. Compared to Saudi Arabia, Kuwait and the United Arab Emirates, Libyan men hardly wear tunics (kanzus) and turbans. Jean trousers are a common sight among young Libyans of both sexes. Apart from some English, a number of Libyans speak French. They still recall former Ugandan President Idi Amin. Despite the UN sanctions, the local currency remains strong. Today, one US dollar is equivalent to 1.6 dinars. In other words, if one exchanges $100, one gets 160 dinars. But the hatred Libyans have for Americans would take centuries to heal. Shop attendants reject dollars and prefer payment in dinars. Hundreds of Africans in need of jobs still stream to Libya in search of greener pastures. Tripoli's Al-Rashid and Omar Al-Muktar Streets are the main bases for the African migrant workers. But Ugandans, who have lived here for over 20 years, say jobs are no longer easy to come by in Libya. A number of Libyans are also in need of jobs. Education, medical treatment and other facilities are still provided free by the Government. Reports say recent calls by hard-pressed Libyans for change in the socialist administration were thwarted. Gaddafi threatened to withdraw the free facilities granted to them and institute taxes. Libyans say the sanctions greatly affected innocent people, and only a few manage to reap millions of dinars through importation of the scarce and much-needed goods. That is a snap shot of Gaddafi's present day Libya. Ends

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