A few years before the new war, and the arrival of the MIG jet fighters, when both Eritrea and Ethiopia had a defense pact, a trainer plane of the nascent Eritrean Air Force crashed somewhere around an elementary school in the Mendefera area. Dimsti Hafash did not hear this loud bang, and did not broadcast it. It was busy churning propaganda. However there was this exception.

Joshua, the journalist and playwright wrote an article titled "process." It was about the several hundred young Eritreans, who, having fled the country, were eking a living in Addis Abeba. He described their sad life there. According to him, many who dreamt to leave for overseas, were increasingly becoming victims of alcoholism, prostitution, and bogus businessmen.

To me, Joshua was a rare breed among the government journalists. He was neither harsh nor judgmental in his depiction of these souls. Joshua stated, that they did not regret their decision and downplayed any feelings of homesickness.

For them Addis was shekor, while Asmera was stifling. They nicknamed Asmera seferkirbit (a match box). The city, they said, is unbearable with its "sawa'do gele' do." The city has been indeed an asphyxiating for the hopes of the youth, and the author of the said article himself. The sefer kirbit city was soon to swallow Joshua in one its cold dungeons. I have to confess folks. I have never kept a framed picture of the city in my home.

Sefer Kirbit exhibits a lot of abnormalities. To find out the magnitude of the unemployment rate, go to the bars and you will find the unemployed brimming with locales nursing bottles of beer, and sipping espresso at 11:00 am. The city had lost its industrial past, and has turned into a tick. What is sustaining it is largely unearned income from abroad?

According to the Macro-policy, 47 years is the average life expectancy for Eritreans. This was even before the war. And yet people between the age bracket of 40 to 50 were often herded into open trucks towards the boot camps of Sawa. They mighty not have missed the scrawny sheep aboard open trucks going the opposite direction to Asmera, and then to Ghahtelai to be fattened there. And then to be exported to the slaughter houses in Saudi Arabia.

These members of the most "aging people," according to the writer Robert Kaplan endure the ordeal standing, and arrive with swollen legs, as if afflicted with elephantiasis- a rare disease in Gobeye land - to be slaughtered later in the slaughterhouse of Badme.

When the National Service was decreed around 1994, and Sawa became a household name, one often heard Asmera's street urchins singing this one line "Sawa haseka alewa." Worried parents, and particularly those with the resources were secretly smuggling their kids our of the country, and to Ethiopia in particular.

As of in mockery, soon after the war erupted, a former singer turned political prisoner (PFDJ call it nay hilena meqsaiti) was released and came with a hit song about Sawa. Wedi Tekul was eagerly rehabilitated and pressed into government propaganda work. And yet the regime was still edgy. Government goons desperate to enforce Sawa recruitment, arrested several Adetat in the city, for complicity in hiding their children and jailed them for weeks. Some could possibly be mothers of those forsaken lives stranded in Addis.

Others with less means tried to evade the war in a different way- remember the university student, who chose the monastic life in the mountain fastness of Debre-Bizen! I recall his saying this to a reporter "My sovereign is only God." He smells like  a war resister to me. Not long ago, he and his brother were reportedly deported from Ethiopia. On arrival his brother was inducted into the army.

Farther down, at the Massawa port, another deportee from Ethiopia, until recently quarantined himself in one of the ships at the harbor. A mechanic by trade, he rarely ventured onshore, preferring the solitary clime of the ships.

These bewildered people are not members of any conscientious objector's movement. This right is a luxury in Eritrea. Not because of the state of war with Ethiopia, but because absolute tyranny reigns. Instead, people will vote with their feet and dash for any possibly temporary refuge. The coping mechanisms were various. People will abandon their Zoba, and move to another within the city. Some stay in the hotel for a few days, until the giffa subsides. Others will go to Gurgusum, and blend with the tourists for several days. Those with less means will go to their villages, and if their village is in peril, will run for the Bahri. Here is a notable episode.

In the Adi Quala area, in the Seraye province, A general briefly detoured from the front line to visit his village. To his dismay, he and his staff noticed several village youth running downhill to the ravine. His convoy was mistaken for government soldiers out to nab people for the war. In the newly built hotel, at Adi Quala, Ethiopian TV programs that were clear and with good reception had a crowd of curious watchers. To their amazement, the crowd once recognized a fellow chum from their town filmed as a prisoner of war. The TV program was soon discontinued.

Traffic at Godena Harnet in Asmera was unusually sparse. The prohibition of cars (besides buses and taxis) by the government was the reason behind it. A score of people were waiting for the bus in front of the Cathedral stairs. They appeared relaxed, and not flexing to elbow each other to get into the expected bus. Their unusual calm and ease was the result of the sudden drop in numbers for thousands of city commuters, who were drafted for the war a few months ago. And yet the calm was only of one sort.

When the cathedral bells clanged suddenly, some gave a start. The anxiety about the war, coupled with the magnified church bells in the extremely quiet avenue were the causes. Not soon after, the regime revoked its decision believing it will demoralize the city.

A short distance from this location, at Campo Polo, one notices unharnessed horses besides their carts at the horse-cart stand. The horses were grazing at the scanty grass around the sidewalk. Business has been extremely slow for the operators. They were being cautious. They did not want to tire their precious assets. For the few draft horses available are fetched from Axum in Tigray. On the other hand, for the PFDJ transport firms, business was booming. That is war time business. Firms such as Lilo and others had been busy for several weeks hauling grain and merchandise from Asseb: a war booty that was soon shipped to Massawa. Unusual looking jeeps, I believe were of Chinese make, driven by military officers and some government bureaucrats were a common sight. The Asmera public was not excluded. Some of the shops in the city were retailing goodies such as soaps (called hammer), and sneakers, originally destined for Ethiopian merchants, at the Asseb depot.