The Pirates of Somalia_ Inside Their Hidden World - Jay Bahadur [89]
Shortly after Hersi phoned me, the Romanian captain of the Victoria had reported an unknown vessel approaching on radar, throwing the pirates into a panic. A civilian in wartime, Hersi was ordered back to shore as the pirates prepared for battle. He recalled the scene around him as he made ready to leave the ship. “Boof! [The pirates] ran to the edge of the deck with their weapons raised, ready to fight,” he said, pointing an imaginary rifle in my face. “They turned the ship’s spotlights on, and cut off all outgoing communications for the next three hours.” The Victoria’s captain then radioed the other ship, warning it to back off. Hersi claimed that the mystery shadow had been an American military ship, trying to catch the pirates off guard under the cover of darkness.
“They’re afraid,” said Hersi. “Attacks can happen at any time.”
I asked Hersi to tell me about Computer, the group’s leader and sole financial backer; the nickname was too unusual not to have a good story behind it, and I was not disappointed.
“His name is Abdulkhadar,” said Hersi, “but everyone calls him Computer.” Once a police lieutenant in Mogadishu, Computer, like many Darod, had returned to Puntland in the wake of the civil war in 1991, where he gained a local reputation as a psychic. Disturbed by his claims, a group of Sufis—Muslim holy men—came and confronted him. “Only God can see the future, not people like you,” they said. “If you’re a psychic, prove it to us.” To test him, they bundled some money and buried it in the desert, far outside of Garowe. “Now go find it, if you can,” they told him. As spectators looked on, Computer made a beeline into the bush, right to the spot where the Sufis had hidden their treasure. Combining their ascetic mysticism with a dubious understanding of the capabilities of modern technology, the Sufis reached a startling conclusion: “This man knows everything!” they exclaimed. “He is a computer!”
Following the Sufis’ pronouncement, Computer’s legend only grew. Pirate leaders began to come to him for advice—whom to choose for their missions, how to avoid foreign warships, which day to depart, even the exact time of day at which to launch their boats. When Computer’s advice yielded munificent ransoms, they were quick to show him their appreciation, presenting him with gifts of up to $100,000, according to Hersi. Before long, Computer decided he could make more money as a venture capitalist than as a psychic.
“He called some of his cousins together, and chose ten of them, very carefully,” said Hersi. “You, you, you; not you,” he continued, pointing his finger in imitation of Computer. “You—you’re good.” After his team had been assembled, Computer provided them with specific instructions. “Right after you leave, you’ll meet a ship. Leave that one alone—it’s no good—and pass it on the right side. The second ship you’ll see will be the one you want; it will be moving slowly. You’ll see it within eight hours of leaving shore. Call me when you’re on board.”
“It happened just as he predicted,” said Hersi. “I’m telling you, man, he’s psychic.”
The ship was the MV Victoria.
* * *
Once Computer had chosen his employees, the gang’s next step was travelling to Puntland’s northern coast undetected from where they would set sail into the Gulf of Aden. In order to conceal themselves from the Puntland authorities, the pirates travelled alone or in pairs, arranging rides with transport trucks on the route from Galkayo to Bossaso and stashing their weapons amidst the vehicles’ cargo. “It’s easy to hide there,” explained Hersi. “The police don