Today was not the first day that my alarm clock failed to go off. But today was the first day that I almost missed my own meeting because my alarm clock failed to wake me up. Better late than never I supposed. So I caught a taxi cab – a ten fold increase in fare as compared to the bus – and opened the laptop to prepare. I noticed that the cabbie was a Hornist and avoided eye contact so as to escape the inevitable back and forth on establishing identity, politics and a long discussion on the miseries of the migrant life. I don’t know if this is just me, but saying where you are from has become a task that requires great mental agility these days. And I think this is particularly true for those of us from the Horn. I am always careful not to offend in case my cabbie runs us both off a bridge. Over the past 10 years I have determined that my identity is really dependent on my counterpart’s identity. If he is from Addis then I am from Addis. If he is from Oromia or Ogaden, then I am most certainly Eritrean. I am also Eritrean if he is Somali, but if he is from Hargessa then I could really be Eritrean, Ethiopian, Ethiopian of Eritrean origin or Eritrean of Ethiopian origin depending on the prevailing politics. If he is from Puntland then I am Ethiopian and if he is Eritrean then I am Amice. To other Africans I am African and to all others I am African-American. The honest response, what ever that may be that month, is reserved for saints. Escape was impossible. I heard the thickly Somali accented cabbie demand my identity and I quickly determined – probabilistically – that I was Eritrean. A smile emerged from inside the beard. I admired my statistical abilities. This was going to be an easy ride… maybe even free. He had seen me open the laptop but decided to ignore it. There was more important stuff to discuss. What did I think of the NPR report on Eritrean refugees? After having been away from news for weeks I had thankfully recently read up on the large media campaign that has started on Eritrean refugees. To be honest I thought that this campaign was useful in that it made it easier for the refugees to get political asylum. My response to my cabbie however was more sober. I told him that this was not the first western intelligence campaign against the Eritrean government.  Western intelligence and media have been at this task for a decade and essentially been outdone at every turn. There were the female soldier rape stories, then the Jehovah Witness stories, then the Pentecostal stories, then the sick sheep… Every human and animal right infringement in Eritrea has been covered by the media. And this was at times useful. For instance, when a few rape stories were reported in the army, the government simply released all the women from trench duty. Of course these media campaigns can also be damaging when they are effective and lower morale or discourage foreign investment in the country. He was not interested in my perspective. That initial smile was not one of affection today. It was one of entrapment. My innocently blurted answer had opened the door for my whipping. What did I mean that western propaganda could be useful? Eritreans in the US were becoming wimps. Isias is the first great hero of Africa! I quickly changed gear. Yes of course he is a hero. Most certainly to Eritreans but maybe even to others in the region that he has helped. Even many of his old protagonists in Ethiopia are finding his brave efforts to shield them from western assaults admirable. Now if only Isias would carry out a fake election – the type that the State Department likes  – and surely he will be re-elected. My cabbie would have none of it. If I knew that he would be re-elected then why would I oppose Isias simply because he refuses to take orders from western masters? He continued and asked me how many of my cousins I had helped to leave Eritrea by sending them money. The situation required rescuing. I was about to become an African Ahmed Chalabi if I didn’t quickly modify my view. I said that I have sent money to my cousins, but not to enable them to leave the country. I am fundamentally opposed to migrating away… believe me. And I will be the first to oppose the next western funded war against Eritrea when it comes. Eritrea’s internal problems are not the business of the west. He stuck to the question of money sent to my cousins. In true Somali fashion he was focused on what I had done concretely rather than what I believed. Yes I had sent money… and understood  if they used it to leave Eritrea… because national service shows no end. I was indirectly undermining the government’s defence capacity and development programs. The west had applied enough pressure on Eritrea that I had come to choose my cousins’ comfort over national development. In a sense, the west has come one step closer to defeating another African promise. There I said it… and he was almost pleased. The smile re-emerged. It was clear from this cab ride that I had become detached from reality. My answers were based on old notions of reality in the horn. I come from an era where literally every one except for Eritreans hated Isias. UN and AU types hated him because he was a little too honest about their effectiveness – or lack thereoff. His neighbors feared his capacity. Arabs always assumed that he was a western Trojan horse while Africans always assumed that he was an Arab one. He had crafted his policy to avoid all the traps of his neighbors. He saw how 150 years of western dominance had forced Sudan to adopt an Arab/Muslim identity despite all the Christians in it, while Ethiopia has adopted a western/Christian identity despite all the Muslims there – essentially neutralizing both. Eritrea thus became the state that would fight western attempts at identity imposition. Depending on his Sudan policy, the west considers Isias either the George Washington or Kim Jong-il of Africa. Eritrea oscillates between being the Israel and North Korea of the continent in western literature depending on its friends. As part of the recent media campaign, the Israeli intelligence even released a news item claiming that Eritrea hosts both an Israeli submarine base and an Iranian army camp. Yes this was actually published a few days ago in a serious British paper. It took me days to figure out for whose benefit this news was produced since it appeared to contain an internal contradiction. Then a major Arab paper picked it up and labeled Eritrea an enemy of Suni Arabs. Aha… a very intelligent intelligence. I thanked my cabbie for the education, tipped him graciously and stepped out onto the side walk. I was not ready for my meeting. Nor was I sure of my merits in controlling a conversation with a stranger. Times have changed indeed. I am used to living around people who do not have much political conviction. It is simply the result of our middle class upbringing combined with the political apathy in our host nation’s culture. A heart to heart with a cabbie has shown me that the horn is developing a conviction of resistance that will leave me and my type behind. We no longer serve a purpose. By forcing us to help our cousins escape, the US has essentially lost its last influence in the region.