I was travelling with an ITN film crew and for a moment we thought our journey had been wasted, “No, no” said our hosts, “we will do it all again for you tomorrow.” And they did, soldiers marched, a band played, the declaration of independence read out, rousing speeches were made and an anti aircraft gun fired into the sky, Somaliland did independence twice over, I will never forget the contrast between the total destruction of the city – the terrible stories of bombing, killing, casual executions and rape – and the determination of the people to rebuild and rely on themselves alone from now on.

Among the political leaders there were real doubts about the wisdom of secession, Some argued that it would be better to threaten to secede to gain more concessions for self government from the new government in Mogadishu, but not actual to break the bond. 30 years before, Somaliland had waited only a week after independence before rushing into the arms of its Somali brothers in the Italian-ruled south and declare a reunited Somalia. But just as the ordinary people had been in favour then, they were opposed to it now, “No more Mogadishu!” they shouted.  And anyway there was no new government in Mogadishu to unite with, just a civil war that has lasted to this day.

But if and when the civil war in the south does end, a new war will start. I have hardly met a single southern Somali that will contemplate an independent Somaliland. At a meeting in London last year, the “prime minister” of Somalia – though his government barely controls a square mile of territory – spoke as if Somaliland was and always would be part of his domain. He never once mentioned its separation or its success, Even in Puntland, the north eastern region of the country which has declared itself self-governing until the country is at peace again, the political leaders speak of the elected government of Somaliland as if they were usurpers who had seized power.

As the independence ceremony ended and the debate on the future of Somali land began, we heard on the BBC World Service that Menglstu Halle Mariam had fled from Addis Ababa.

A small plane flew from Djibouti to pick us up and I managed to get on the last plane into Ethiopia. For once I lied about my occupation and my status, I said I was an aid worker – my family were stuck In Addis Ababa and I had to join them. The plane was empty, but when it landed in Dire Dawa, hundreds of people fought to get on. I found myself sitting next to a retired general, “Everyone is just trying to get home to be with their families,” he said.

Addis Ababa was in hiding. Menglstu fled on a Monday. For a whole week everyone stayed in-doors except to go to church. The ministries were closed, there was no information. On two mornings I found dead bodies lying in the road, but who they were and why they had been killed was unclear. At one stage a group of tanks drove noisily around the town. One fell off a bridge into a ravine. The city waited.

One day I stupidly walked up to the old Imperial palace where Mengistu had lived, I watched a soldier jump over the wall and run off. A few minutes later a group of street kids appeared with his gun. They saw me, pointed the gun at me and very politely robbed me of my wallet and watch. Then another group of street kids who I had given some money to earlier came up and asked what the problem was. I told them that the other gang could keep the money, but my cards were useless to them and essential to me. They dashed off and returned a few minutes later with my wallet minus the Birr.

On the second Monday at dawn I was woken by a huge bang which brought down the ceiling of my bathroom. Then there were more and the cracks and clatter of machine guns, I dressed and rushed downstairs. Outside the hotel a tank was firing into the palace. After half an hour or so the firing died down and I slipped out and approached the tank. A group of fighters were sheltering behind it. ”Tigrayan?” I asked, “No,” came the answer, “Eritrean.” So this strange, difficult but effective alliance of Eritrean nationalists – who had been fighting for independence for 30 years – and Tigrayan Marxists (who had been fighting since 1975), had finally overthrown the Russian-backed Marxist regime. The Tigrayans had done most of the fighting as they pushed south from their mountainous home territory. But at the last moment, they stepped aside and allowed their allies to plunge the execution knife into the dying beast. We walked through the main gates stepping over the bodies of guards who had died guarding the empty building. But by the end of the day Tigrayan troops were on the streets, Meles Zenawi, one of the founders of the Tigrayan Peoples Liberation Front, arrived a few days later and has ruled Ethiopia ever since.

The next day I went to the British Embassy, a large estate behind high walls on the edge of town guarded by Royal Military Police. The diplomats, forbidden to go out, were desperate for news. I stepped past a dead body lying by the gate and a few minutes later I was playing croquet with a glass of Pimms at my side, “Got to keep up standards in these troubled times”, someone remarked. I then called on the Russians, a couple of estates further down the road (remember Ethiopia was the Europe’s partner in the imperial carve up of Africa and gave its allies stupendous estates in the capital), “This, I suppose, is our Vietnam,” said the ambassador lugubriously, “but I don’t have a flat roof and Moscow is not going to send a helicopter for me.”

The Italians did not want to talk. Four of Menglstu’s generals had fled to their embassy and claimed asylum. The new government wanted to try them as war criminals, but the Italians would not give them up, So they were stuck in the embassy. One has since died, but as far as I know the others are still there, 20 years on.

Eritrea and Ethiopia’s divorce was handled politically well, though thousands of ordinary people suffered terribly as both governments rounded up and deported each other’s citizens.

Families were split and those of mixed Eritrean and Ethiopian parentage found themselves rejected by both sides. Independent Eritrea started well, having a far larger educated population, many of whom returned from exile to help rebuild the country. But Issalas Afwerke, who had acted until then more like a chairman than a president, was driven mad by war, power and paranoia. He attacked his former colleagues and killed or imprisoned them. A few escaped into exile. All the neighbours became enemies too and he attacked them.  In turn, Yemen, Djibouti and Ethiopia (the latter was spoiling for a fight). Two bald men fighting over a comb was how I described the war in The Economist, ostensibly a battle for the tiny, tiny, insignificant village of Badme.

The dispute has never been settled, though an international ruling gave Badme to Eritrea, The two countries still face each other armed to the teeth. But while the threat of war helps keep Meles and Issaias in power, the uncertainties of actual war might cost both of them their thrones, So they make sure it does not happen, but fight a proxy war in Somalia, making those poor Somalis suffer. A united strong prosperous Somalia is the last thing Eritrea and Ethiopia want.

The Horn of Africa Makes the head hurt – and the heart.

The author Is the director at the UK-based Royal Afrlcan Society (RAS) credit.

Two foreign journalists have been kidnapped from a hotel by gunmen in the Somalian capital.

About 10 gunmen disguised as government security forces arrived at the hotel in the south of the city and took them.

A BBC Somali Service journalist says African Union military officials are aware of the report. It is not clear who the reporters work for.

Mogadishu has been in the middle of fierce on-off battles between pro-government forces and Islamist rebels.

The abduction took place at the Sahafi Hotel on yesterday morning in a part of the Somali capital controlled by pro-government forces.

Gunmen wearing Somali police uniforms turned up at the guest house, seized the two reporters and took them in a vehicle towards a part of the city run by insurgents, said witnesses.