‘It was either killed or be killed’ – ongoing nightmares of an ex-child soldier in Somalia 15 hours ago Share Save Add as preferred on Google Mohamed Gabobe Mogadishu Getty Images Fighters from the Union of Islamic Courts took control of Mogadishu in June 2006 Shopkeeper Yusuf Ali still battles with memories of his time as a child soldier fighting on the streets of Somalia’s capital, Mogadishu. The 34-year-old became embroiled in the Islamist insurgency, which erupted nearly 20 years ago, and while the city’s urban landscape is healing, few resources are devoted to those still suffering with the psychological scars of the conflict. Warning: This article contains details some readers may find upsetting. When he was 14 years old, a coalition of Sharia courts seized power in Somalia and provided some sense of stability in a country that had been riven by devastating clan warfare since the regime of President Siad Barre collapsed in 1991. But the Union of Islamic Courts (UIC) marked the first instance of political Islam gaining a foothold in the African continent since al-Qaeda’s 11 September 2001 attacks on the US. Policymakers in Washington viewed the UIC with hostility, accusing it of having ties to al-Qaeda. Its military youth wing was known as al-Shabab, meaning “The Lads”. In December 2006, thousands of Ethiopian troops invaded Somalia under the cover of American drones with the aim of toppling the courts just six months after they had taken over. Ethiopia’s invasion was deeply unpopular in Somalia and was met with fierce opposition as al-Shabab and its allies, including a coalition of splinter groups known as the Muqawama, meaning “Resistance”, clubbed together to fight it. At the time Ali lived in Huriwaa, an impoverished district in the north of Mogadishu. Aged one, he had lost his father – killed while taking part in what has been dubbed the “Battle of Mogadishu”, when Somali fighters infamously clashed with US soldiers after the downing of two American Black Hawk helicopters . It was hard growing up without his dad, but it was the guerrilla warfare that overtook Mogadishu during the Ethiopian invasion that changed him forever. AFP via Getty Images Hundreds of thousands fled to Elasha Biyaha, setting up makeshift shelters to escape the fighting in Mogadishu “At night, I’d often hear a buzzing sound. I was in secondary school and didn’t realise it then, but these were planes surveilling our neighbourhood,” Ali tells the BBC. By the spring of 2007, fighting intensified with heavy shelling and bombardment of densely populated civilian neighbourhoods suspected of sheltering insurgents. “On one of the nights, a large barrage of shells hit our area and some of them struck our neighbour’s house. Our house shook and I felt like the soil under my feet had moved – then I started hearing screams,” Ali recalls. Frantic residents struggled to lift the rubble and that was when he saw a lifeless body. “Someone aimed a torch and I saw blood stains and a body lying nearby. A young girl that looked around my age, but she wasn’t moving. I’ve seen death, but nothing prepared me for that night.” The family fled to the Elasha Biyaha district north-west of Mogadishu, which had become a refuge for hundreds of thousands of people. But many young people, including boys his age, were eager to return to the city and fight those referred to as “Gaalo” – a term in the Somali language meaning infidels, used to refer to non-Muslims. “From the sermons at the mosque that called on people to defend their country from the Gaalo, everyone was fired up,” he says. This drew him to Muqawama, which included former army commanders. “They trained us in small arms fire… We practised hit-and-run attacks,” he says. Ali, by now aged 16, then found himself in Mogadishu with other young combatants engaged in urban warfare. They were given guns – but not paid – and would eat together with the other fighters. MCT/Getty Images Following the collapse of Somalia’s governmen