18 መስከረም 2011፡ ምልካዊ ስርዓት ኢሳያስ፡ ነቲ ኣብ ኣመሪካ ብ11 መስከረም 2011 እተወስደ ናይ ራዕዲ ተግባር ዝፈጠሮ ሕንፍሽፍሽ ተጐልቢቡ፡ ዓለም ኣቓልቦኣ ኣብ ካልእ እንከሎ፡ ነቶም ቅዋም ኣብ ግብሪ ክውዕልን ግዝኣተ-ሕጊ ክነግስን ዝጠለቡ 15 ኣባላት ማእከላይ ባይቶ ህግዲፍን ነቲ ተረኽቦታት ዘቃልሑ ጋዜጠኛታትን ኣብ ቀይዲ ዘእተወላ ጸላም ዕለት ኢያ። ስርዓት ኢሳያስ፡ ነዚ ስጕምቲ’ዚ ክወስድ እንከሎ፡ ብሓደ እምኒ ብዙሓት ኣዕዋፍ ምቕታል ዝብል ምስላ ተተርኢሱ ምዃኑ ንምርዳእ ዘጸግም ኣይኰነን።

እቲ ምስ ኢትዮጵያ ዝተባርዐ ናይ ዶብ ውግእ፡ ብውሳኔ ባይቶ ኤርትራ ወይ ካቢነ ኤርትራ ዘይኰነስ ብውሳኔ ፕረሲደንት ኢሳያስ ምንባሩ ሎሚ ናይ ኣደባባይ ምስጢር ኰይኑ ኢዩ። ኮሚሽን ዶባት ኤርትራን ኢትዮጵያን እንተዀነ እውን፡ ሓላፍነት ናይ ውግእ ምብራዕ ንስርዓት ኢሳያስ ኢዩ ኣሰኪምዎ። ከምኡ’ውን ስርዓት ኢሳያስ፡ ነቲ ብመንግስቲ ኣመሪካን ሩዋንዳን ይኹን ብሕብረት ኣፍሪቃ ዝቐረበሉ ናይ ዕርቂ እማመ ተሓሲሙ፡ ኣብ ውግእ ምስ ተሳዕረ ኢዩ ነቲ ናይ ኣልጀርስ ዕርቂ ክቕበል ዝተገደደ። ነዚ ፍሽለት’ዚ ንምሽፋን ኢዩ እምበኣር ፕረሲደንት ኢሳያስ፡ ነቶም ናብ ስልጣን ዘብጽሕዎ ናይ ቃልሲ ብጾቱ ብኽሕደት ክኸሶም ዝወሰነ። ብዙሓት ግሩሃት እውን በዚ ኣበሃህላ’ዚ ተደናጊሮም ኢዮም።

ብኻልእ ሸነኽ፡ ነዞም ቅዋም ክትግበርን ግዝኣተ-ሕጊ ክነግስን ዝሓተቱ ብጾቱ፡ ውዒሎም ሓዲሮም ንስልጣነይ ሓደጋ ክዀኑ ኢዮም ካብ ዝብል ስግኣት ተበጊሱ፡ ኣብ ትሕቲ ቀይዲ ከምዝኣትዉ ገይሩ። ኣብ ትሕቲ ቀይዲ ካብ ዝኣተዉሉ ዕለት ኣትሒዞም ክሳብ ሎሚ፡ 15 ዓመታት ማለት ኢዩ፡ ብዘይ ክስን ብዘይ ፍርድን ኣብ ማእሰርቲ ከምዝበልዩን ከምዝሞቱን ዝገብር ዘሎ ስርዓት ኢዩ። ቤተ-ሰቦም፡ ጠበቓታቶምን ናይ ሰብኣዊ መሰላት ተጣበቕትን ክርእይዎምን ክረኽብዎምን እውን ኣይፈቅደን ኢዩ። ኣብ ርእስ’ዚ፡ ብሃይማኖታዊ ይኹን ፖለቲካዊ እምነቶም ኣብ ማእሰርቲ ዝርከቡ በሽሓት ዝቝጽሩ ኤርትራውያን ኣለዉ።

ሰልፊ ዲሞክራሲ ህዝቢ ኤርትራ፡ በዚ ኣጋጣሚ’ዚ፡ ኵሎም ናይ ፖለቲካን ናይ ሕልናን እሱራት ብዘይ ውዓል ሕደር ክፍትሑ ይጽውዕ።

ኮሚሽን ሕቡራት ሰብኣዊ መሰላት ኤርትራ፡ ንዘቕረቦ ጸብጻብ ደገፉን ናእዳኡን ይገልጽ። ባይቶ ሰብኣዊ መሰላት ሕቡራት ሃገራት ነዚ ሒዝዎ ዘሎ ዕማም ኣብ መፈጸምታኡ ንኸብጽሖ ከይተሓለለ ክሰርሕ ድማ ይምሕጸን።

እቶም ብዝተፈላለየ ምስምስ ምስ’ዚ ስርዓት’ዚ ዝተሓባበሩ ዘለዉ ኤርትራውያን ይኹኑ ወጻእተኛታት፡ ንውሳኔታቶም ዳግማይ ርእይቶ ክገብርሉን ኣብ ጐድኒ ጭቍን ህዝቢ ኤርትራ ደው ክብሉን ይጽውዕ።

ምልኪ ይደምሰስ፡ ፍትሒ ይንገስ

መንግስተኣብ ኣስመሮም

ኣቦ መንበር ሰዲህኤ

17 መስከረም 2016

Schoolchildren flee tear gas in Nairobi after police break up a protest. Oxfam says lost tax revenues from offshore holdings cost Africa an estimated $14bn a year. Photograph: Tony Karumba/AFP/Getty Images

Corruption is the most neglected human rights violation of our time. It fuels injustice, inequality and depravation, and is a major catalyst for migration and terrorism.

In Africa, the social and political consequences of corruption rob nations of resources and potential, and drive inequality, resentment and radicalisation. Corruption cheats the continent’s governments of some $50bn (£38bn) annually, and stymies successful cities, sustainable economies and safe societies.

This corruption discourages donors and destroys investor confidence, strangling development, progress and prosperity.

Added to that, across the continent, sociopolitical dissatisfaction at corruption provides fertile ground for radicalisation, and some extremist organisations are adept at portraying Islamism as the solution to such injustice.

For example, corruption stimulates recruitment of young Nigerians into the ranks of Boko Haram. In a recent study, 70% of those interviewed in the state of Sokoto cited corruption as a factor driving radicalisation.

By understanding corruption’s full impact and seeing it through the eyes of its victims, we can create new weapons to combat it. This is worth considering as we approach the first-year review of the sustainable development goals. Among them is SDG 16, which aims to reduce bribery and corruption, develop accountable institutions, cut the flow of illicit money and weapons, and strengthen the recovery and return of stolen assets.

There are some encouraging signs on the continent. When leaders from countries such as Kenya, Rwanda, Nigeria and Tanzania highlight corruption as a major threat to their countries, then we might just be seeing the final days of impunity. The test now is whether they deliver on these fresh anti-corruption promises in credible ways that take account of human rights.

Human rights are enforced by international treaties, backed by judicial bodies with teeth such as the international criminal court, the international court of justice and regional bodies such as the African court on human and people’s rights. The UN security council and the African Union’s peace and security council can impose sanctions in response to violations of political, economic, social or cultural rights, or to deal with torture, genocide and war crimes. On top of that, countries and international bodies have an obligation to act when human rights are breached.

 

Yet there is no such obligation to act against endemic corruption. International agreements define various corrupt practices as a crime, but not corruption itself. Instead, it is passively defined as a technical flaw in governance, its horrors disguised in legalese. Corruption’s victims get little mention.

That’s why so little progress has been made by the UN convention against corruption (Uncac). This global agreement elevated anti-corruption action to the world stage. But Uncac relies on states for implementation, and – unlike global protocols governing human rights – there is no effective sanction for those in breach. An absence of enforcement creates space for corrupt officials and businesspeople to hide without fear of pursuit or prosecution. And there is little political will to change things.

We need to give Uncac muscle by joining the moral and legal dots between corruption, human rights abuses and international crimes. Acknowledging the negative human rights impact of corruption makes it imperative for African states to provide better protection to their citizens. Africans have the most at stake in getting anti-corruption efforts to work, because corruption disproportionately affects poor people.

A more rights-based approach to corruption is a good strategy for both African and European governments. It would mean greater political stability, and provide an environment for sustained social and economic development. This, in turn, would have a positive effect on the drivers of conflict, terrorism and migration.

The human rights community built an arsenal to protect people. Now anti-corruption activists need to do the same.

• Anton du Plessis is executive director of the Institute for Security Studies in South Africa

Published: 17 Sep 2016 10:41 GMT+02:00

A United Nations expert on Friday called on Eritrea's government to urgently reveal the fate of Swedish journalist Dawit Isaak, and the rest of a group of senior government officials and journalists arrested fifteen years ago.

• Eritrea claims jailed Swedish journalist is still alive(21 Jun 16)
• 'Time to free Swedish journalist Dawit Isaak'(05 May 15)
• Swedes accuse Eritrean president of torture(01 Jul 14)

For more news from Sweden, join us onFacebookandTwitter.

By Abraham T. Zere / 16 September 2016

Scenes from Eritrea, photographs by Yonatan Tewelde

It initially sounded like a joke; gradually it got serious and then tragic. A decade and a half later, it is catastrophe.

Fifteen years ago on 18 September, 2001, fellow students of University of Asmara and I were confined in two labour camps, GelAlo and Wi’A, for defying a requirement of unpaid summer work. We were kept in the camps, under harsh, atrocious living conditions and open to the weather that normally reaches 45 C (113 F) for about five weeks. As we were preparing to return home, we learned the government had banned seven private newspapers and imprisoned11 top government officials.

The day after our homecoming, beaten down and demoralised, I went to meetAmanuel Asrat, chief editor of Zemen newspaper. About 10 days before that, he had received an article, in which I detailed our living conditions, that I had managed to get smuggled out of the prison camp. My piece was published in the last issue of the newspaper.

An atmosphere of fear pervaded Asmara. The environment had changed abruptly from heated and loud political debates to people resigning themselves to whispers and silence.

Unlike our previous meetings when Asrat greeted me with a joke, this time his dejection was obvious.

I do not remember exactly what we talked about, nor do I remember where we met. I assume Asrat must have expressed satisfaction about my safe return (as two students had died in the camp) and perhaps asked about my family. It’s possible we talked about the days before we had been sent to the prison camp. I do not know.

Yet, I remember vividly that we briefly talked about the letter I had sent him from the camp, and him explaining why he had published it anonymously. He didn’t want to incriminate me in its publication. Asrat also assured me that he had destroyed the original letter after publishing it.

What else do I remember from that encounter? Nothing substantial apart from him saying in a resigned tone, “Things are getting worse. It is inevitable we [the journalists] will also follow the political leaders [who had been imprisoned].”

At that point, we went our separate ways, probably hoping to meet some days later.

Before a second meeting with Asrat, I received the news of his and other journalists’ arrests. Even then, no one thought they would be held for more than a few days or weeks.

This is why journalistDawit Habtemichaelshowed up at his workplace the next morning — even after security had come to his home the previous day and hadn’t found him. He reasoned that they would arrest him and release him shortly thereafter, a common occurrence at the time. He arrived confidently at his office, prepared to be arrested. He probably felt that fleeing would be an act of betrayal to his colleagues and friends.

Contrary to expectations, both Habtemichael and Asrat have been kept incommunicado in secret prisons with 10 other journalists and 23 political figures for the last 15 years. The Eritrean authorities have never clarified their fates, but someallegedly leakedinformation by ananonymous whistleblowerindicates that only 15 of the total 35 prisoners are alive in the worst living conditions. The journalists who were incarcerated in connection with the press crackdown in 2001 are: Amanuel Asrat, Idris Said Aba’Are,Seyoum Tsehaye, Yousif Mohammed Ali, Said Abdelkadir, Medhanie Haile, Dawit Isaak, Dawit Habtemichael, Matheos Habteab, Fessaha “Joshua” Yohannes, Temesegen Ghebereyesus, and Sahle “Wedi-Itay” Tsegazeab. The leaked source allegedly states only five of the 12 were alive in deteriorating health conditions as of the beginning of this year.

So until the arrested journalists were transferred to an unknown prison outside the capital, many of us – and maybe even those who had been arrested – had high hopes that things would normalise and they would shortly be released from detention. Apart from the architects of repression, nobody guessed that the reign of terror and fear would last for 15 years – and continue to this day.

The culture of fear and hushed whispers gradually pervaded Eritrea until it became the nation’s signature reality. All roads began leading to dead ends. Silence and lack of cooperation became the only means of defiance that would not lead to arrest and imprisonment. The regime’s elimination of all independent media operating in the country conspired with a lack of public forums to effectively zombify Eritreans living inside the country.

Now it has reached a stage where failure to applaud unconditionally all actions taken by the government, no matter how irrational or arbitrary, can be considered as dissidence.

Over the last 15 years Eritreans have been pushed to the edge. Fear has been internalised. Nationals living inside the country are beaten down to docility and respond to orders and requirements without question. The country is plagued with harsh living conditions as a result of shortsighted policies, tattered institutions and a ragged social fabric characterised by mistrust.

Unlike 2001 when I was confident that the journalists would be released after a short time, in January 2015, I celebrated as miraculous the release of Radio Bana journalistsafter six yearsin prison without charges. Of course, I had no doubt they were all innocent, and the release of an earlier batch two years before confirmed this fact. Among them was a man who had been imprisoned for four years in place of another man who shared the same first name. In another nonsensical interrogation, related by one of the Radio Bana journalists who were released, authorities showed a print article as evidence of a broadcast allegedly aired by the opposition radio station.

No matter how long the Radio Bana journalists had stayed in prison or the sufferings they had gone through, their release was still big news to celebrate. Any release of political prisoners has been a rare occurrence in Eritrea, which is why many of us called the freed journalists to congratulate them. In a system that follows the perverted logic of “guilty until proven innocent,” it was important to celebrate their freedom  because no one can guess the irrational acts the regime repeatedly takes.

With the state media parroting ceaseless propaganda and hate-filled editorials, citizens have mastered a special skill: how to read between the lines. Most Eritreans do not listen to what the president says in his regular, repetitious interviews with the national media. Rather they read his gestures, listen to his tone and scan his appearance to get a feel for the state of the country. Many Eritreans check the media just long enough to determine whether he looks healthy or not.

This accumulation of fear, with a stifled media and ubiquitous censorship, has earned Eritrea the title of “most censored country in the world”, according to Committee to Protect Journalists. It also has placed it as the last country in World Press Freedom Index, as reported by Reporters Without Borders.

Source=https://www.indexoncensorship.org/2016/09/abraham-zere-15-years-fear-eritreans-read-lines/