When Progress Becomes a Threat to the Status Quo

Some people talk about Somalia like it’s their lifelong mission to save it. They write poetic essays, full of lofty promises and bold phrases—calling for “unity,” “transformation,” and “national healing.” But when you peel back the curtain, something feels off.

Take a closer look. Many of these so-called reformers have children who’ve never lived a day in Mogadishu. Their families are safely tucked away in the UK—often in London—far from the car bombs and fear that define daily life for the average Somali. If your family lives in peace abroad, why are you the loudest voice dictating what peace should look like for the people back home?

It’s not hypocrisy—it’s strategy.

Let’s rewind to 2017. That year was supposed to be a turning point. Al-Shabaab was being pushed to the edge. Militarily, their grip was weakening. Financially, they were struggling. It felt—for a brief moment—like Somalia might finally breathe.

Then came an election. Mohamed Abdullahi Farmaajo won. His administration, whether intentionally or through neglect, gave Al-Shabaab breathing room. From 2017 to 2022, they didn’t just regroup. They flourished.

The facts are uncomfortable, but they matter:

• Al-Shabaab infiltrated the government. Sensitive information leaked. Security operations stalled. Intelligence structures crumbled from within.
• Civilians paid the price. Mogadishu suffered almost daily attacks. Markets, buses, schools—no place was safe.
• Al-Shabaab got rich. They ran extortion rackets, taxed businesses in broad daylight, and grew into one of Africa’s most financially capable terror organizations.

That didn’t happen by accident.

Then came the 2022 election. Hassan Sheikh Mohamud returned to office—and slowly but surely, the tone shifted.

Mogadishu, for the first time in years, started to feel like a capital city again. Streets reopened. Weddings were held without fear. People walked without looking over their shoulders.

Military operations regained focus. The Somali National Army began taking ground back from terrorists. Real victories—territories cleared, hideouts destroyed. No longer just symbolic wins, but measurable gains.

And with security came economy. Shops reopened. Diaspora investment returned. The silence of fear gave way to the noise of commerce.

So why, now, are some politicians sharpening their tongues again?

Because progress exposes their irrelevance.

You see, some of these actors thrived in chaos. When Al-Shabaab ruled the shadows, they ruled the headlines. They sold influence, played broker, and hid behind the excuse of a “broken system.” Now that peace is closer than it’s been in years, they’re panicking.

They don’t want reform—they want restoration. Not of the nation, but of their power.

That’s why they’re trying to reset the clock with another election—a carefully engineered one where their preferred candidate, someone who might again turn a blind eye to Al-Shabaab’s creep, can return to the throne.

And let’s be honest: some of these calls for “moral leadership” are nothing more than PR. They’re distractions meant to rewrite history before the public fully wakes up to what actually happened between 2017 and 2022.So no, we don’t need another leader “with a unifying political ethos” who lives in London while pretending to understand life in Hamarweyne.We need someone grounded in reality. Someone who didn’t vanish when the bombs were falling.The people of Mogadishu know what stability looks like—they’re living it right now. And they also know who’s trying to take it away from them.

Let’s not be fooled again.