Somalia

Somaliland’s President Abdirahman Mohamed Abdullahi is on a ‘historic’ tour of Israel, where he’s opened an embassy and visited the Knesset. The landmark trip comes months after Israel became the first country to recognise Somaliland as an independent nation.

Somali referee Omar Abdulkadir Artan was denied entry into the United States for the World Cup after enduring an 11-hour interrogation in Miami, according to media reports. Andrew Giuliani, head of the White House Task Force on the World Cup, indicated Artan was suspected to having ties to a Somali militant group.

“We want to make sure we are not going to allow a soccer tournament to be the opportunity for terrorists to potentially get in the country or anybody who is actually talking to them,” Giuliani told the British Broadcasting Corporation.

The New York Times reported that Artan’s name is similar to that of a man identified as linked to Al Shabab, a group that has been the target of U.S. government sanctions.

“I am very, very disappointed,” Artan told the Times from Istanabul, where he stopped on his way back to Somalia. “I’m just simply a referee who’s trying to live his dream, the biggest dream of my life, to come to the World Cup.”

Safety was purportedly the concern with Artan, whose interrogation was conducted by the U.S. Customs and Border Protection.

“During processing, the traveler underwent additional inspection, a routine part of CBP’s inspection process when officers need to verify information or determine admissibility,” CBP said in a statement. “Following inspection, the traveler, a referee for the FIFA World Cup, was determined to be inadmissible due to vetting concerns and was denied entry.”

Somalia is on the U.S. list of banned countries for immigration, although exceptions can be made. Artan is considered one of the best referees in Africa, having officiated in the Somali national football league championship and at the African Cup of Nations.

“Despite the circumstances, I am in a positive mood and focused on the next challenges in my refereeing career,” Artan said in a statement. “I would like to thank FIFA and [the African federation] for all their support and I promise to keep my refereeing levels up as I concentrate on the future.”

Artan, Africa’s Referee of the Year in 2025, was greeted Wednesday at Aden Adde International Airport in Somalia by government officials and hundreds of well-wishers.

“I want to thank FIFA for supporting me all the way, and for Somali people also,” he told Al Jazeera. “So I am very grateful for FIFA and for CAF also. This is what I have to say.”

Award-winning Somali referee, Omar Abdulkadir Artan, has been removed from the World Cup roster after being denied entry to the United States despite holding a valid visa.

Mogadishu, Somalia – Mustafa, 33, dreads election time in Somalia. He drives a bajaj — a three-wheeled taxi — and says that when tensions rise, as they always do when polls are near, the whole city feels it, and drivers like him are among the first.

On Wednesday, he was passing through the Hawl Wadaag district when heavy gunfire between government and opposition forces erupted all around him.

“I couldn’t even think. Everyone was shouting and running for their lives, and we all fled from the bullets,” he told Al Jazeera. “We haven’t seen fighting this bad in years.”

The shooting that began that afternoon around the homes of former Prime Minister Hassan Ali Khaire and, later, former President Sheikh Sharif Sheikh Ahmed, came as opposition figures were planning to organise protests against what they describe as an illegal term extension by incumbent President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud.

Khaire and Sharif Sheikh Ahmed were among opposition leaders spreadheading the planned protests amid rising tensions with the federal government.

The government said the planned protests would undermine security in a city still grappling with persistent armed violence.

Hundreds of families fled neighbourhoods near the fighting, and by the next day, many of the capital’s central areas had emptied. The sudden eruption of violence ended a period of improving security in Mogadishu, shattering the perception that the city had begun turning a corner.

“The most frustrating thing is that we have nothing to do with it, and it impacts so many of us,” Mustafa said. “We make our living in this city”.

Security forces sealed Maka al-Mukarama Road, one of Mogadishu’s main arteries, while Bakara market, the largest commercial hub in the city, was effectively closed for business.

“Look, it’s midday, and there’s almost no one here, shops are closed, and usually by this time the place is jammed,” Ahmed, a street vendor at Bakara market, told Al Jazeera, gesturing at shuttered stalls.

Ali Wardheere, the deputy central bank governor, estimated the direct cost to businesses and services at $3.8m, though he stressed the figure was a model-based projection, not an official or final tally.

Like most Somalis, Mustafa has never voted for a president or a member of parliament. The country has not held a direct election for national leadership since the late 1960s.

Since the state was re-established in 2012 after its 1991 collapse, leaders have been selected through an indirect system negotiated by clan elders and political elites.

As presidential terms near their end, low trust among political actors often leads to intense competition over power — and at times violence — as disputes over the electoral timetable come to a head.

At a press conference in late May, Sharif warned that the political deadlock could turn violent if negotiations failed.

“Where do things stand? [We say] Leave, and [you say] I won’t leave. What comes next? Bullets.”

The warning echoed events in 2021, when then-President Mohamed Abdullahi Farmaajo remained in office more than a year beyond the end of his term, triggering clashes in Mogadishu before a political agreement was reached.

Higher stakes this election

This time, the political standoff carries higher stakes.

President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud says that constitutional amendments approved by parliament extended his mandate by an additional year from May 15. The opposition rejects that and has begun referring to him as a “former president”.

Two of Somalia’s most influential federal states also reject the amendments, leaving the country divided over the constitutional framework governing the next election, with no constitutional court to resolve the dispute.

After parliament approved the changes, Mohamud declared that the “provisional constitution, and the provisional era, was a sun which set yesterday,” signalling that his administration would press ahead despite objections from its opponents.

Tensions had been building for days. Ahead of a protest planned for Thursday, opposition leaders left the heavily fortified “green zone” near Mogadishu’s airport and returned to their residences across the city.

Some opposition figures said they would deploy their own armed guards at the demonstration, a proposal Mohamud rejected. The dispute heightened fears of a confrontation before fighting eventually broke out.

Both sides blame the other for starting the clashes. Khaire accused Mohamud of directing a “sustained and indiscriminate military assault” that lasted more than 20 hours, a claim Sharif echoed after fighting reached his own residence.

Ahmed Moalim Fiqi, the defence minister, accused the opposition of militarising the standoff, likening it to Sudan’s Rapid Support Forces and alleging that opposition figures had “distributed mortars and artillery across the capital”.

“Force and militias,” he said, would no longer be allowed to “seize power or block the state.”

How it came to this

The roots of the crisis run back to the 2012 provisional constitution, which set up a federal, parliamentary system built on broad consensus and clan-based power-sharing, which every government since has promised to achieve and failed to attain.

This year, after a long review, parliament amended the constitution through a disputed process that split the political class. The government has insisted that the new constitution advances the statebuilding process and that the Somali public should be allowed to directly elect its representatives.

For Ahmed Abdi Koshin, a federal MP who boycotted the draft, the danger is that the whole settlement comes apart. The process, he said, “clearly doesn’t have buy-in,” and the original constitution, for all its faults — “an imperfect product of compromise” — was the “only glue holding Somalia together”.

Koshin is not against a direct vote in principle, he said, but does not believe the country is ready for one. “We don’t have legislation for a direct vote; censuses and the security situation remains compromised. It really is up to the president to either reach a deal and save Somalia, or watch it fall apart,” he said.

The opposition, organised as a coalition known as the Somali Future Council and including two serving federal-state presidents, former prime ministers and a former president, has pressed Mohamud to accept that his mandate has ended and negotiate a new electoral framework, as in past transitions.

It alleges that his push for a direct vote is a pretext for extending his term and potentially securing another.

The government rejects that, casting a national one-person, one-vote election — the first since the 1960s — as essential to a drawn-out state-building project. When electoral talks collapsed on May 15, the Ministry of Information accused the opposition of bringing demands that ran counter to “the citizen’s fundamental right to vote and to be voted for”, and vowed to press ahead.

Mohamed Ibrahim Moalimuu, a lower-house MP who backed the amendments, said further delay could not be justified. “We’ve waited for more than 12 years,” he told Al Jazeera.

“If they had arguments against them, they should have taken part in the process and raised their issues. A constitution isn’t a Quran, and they should come back and work through parliament to make their views clear.”

A whole generation of Somalis, he noted, have never cast a ballot, and a real election “would be a major milestone and would bring some hope”.

The old indirect system, he added, was notoriously corrupt, with parliamentary seats changing hands for anywhere from $100,000 to as much as $1.3m. “This system is too dirty and keeps people out,” said Maliumuu. “It needs to be changed.”

A deeper problem

A regional official, speaking on condition of anonymity because he was not authorised to talk to the media, described an elite “divided strategically over what type of country they want, whether a strong centralised state or a weak decentralised one, and tactically over who the right candidate is to take them there”.

Mohamud, the official said, had moved from a decentralised vision for Somalia that embraces federalism towards a stronger executive, and his early, promising relationships with the federal-state leaders had since soured.

Those fractures have opened on several fronts at once.

Somaliland, which declared independence in 1991 and has stayed out of the constitutional review entirely, was recognised by Israel late last year after earlier courting Ethiopia.

Puntland and Jubaland, two of Somalia’s six federal states, have withdrawn from the federal system over the new constitution, while more than 100 MPs and senators from both boycotted the final vote.

Broader regional crises, from Sudan’s civil war to disease outbreaks elsewhere on the continent, have pushed Somalia further down the list of international priorities, leaving international engagement more fragmented and inconsistent.

The country is also grappling with a deepening humanitarian crisis and aid cuts, prompting famine monitors to warn of a heightened risk of hunger in parts of Somalia.

Yusuf Aynte, a veteran religious leader and former MP, said Somalia’s leaders needed to build consensus rather than push through changes that risk deepening divisions.

“The president says what he is doing is good, and that may be so,” he told Al Jazeera. “But the most important thing is what everyone can agree on.

“At the moment, Somalia has too many problems, and can’t afford to be distracted like this.”

Jamal Shiil, a youth activist, told Al Jazeera that Somalia’s large youth population would ultimately bear the cost of the persistent instability.

“Young people want to make a living here, for Somalia to be peaceful and not to have to leave because of the problems,” he said. “But if things don’t change it won’t leave them much of a choice”.

Ex-Somali PM Khaire accuses government forces of attacking him before planned antigovernment protests in Mogadishu.

Heavy gunfire has broken out in central Mogadishu as Somalia’s former Prime Minister Hassan Ali Khaire says he has been attacked by government forces before planned protests.

“An attack was launched against us by forces commanded by the president whose term has expired,” Khaire said in a social media post on Wednesday, adding they had been preparing for a “peaceful demonstration” the following day.

President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud “bears full responsibility for today’s violent attack on our consultative meeting”, he said.

Somalia has fallen into yet another political crisis after Mohamud announced that his term had been extended for a year after it was due to expire on May 15.

The opposition and regional leaders have rejected the move and demonstrations were due to take place on Thursday.

Khaire relocated from his base in the heavily fortified green zone around the airport to his residence in the city, in order to take part in the protests.

RPGs, gunshots

An AFP news agency journalist filmed images of panicked residents in the Howl Wadaag district near his home, with loud gunshots heard in the background. Witnesses told AFP they saw armed opposition forces clashing with Somali police.

“The shooting lasted for about 15 minutes before it subsided. They even used RPGs [rocket-propelled grenades], and the sound of the explosions could be heard across the surrounding neighbourhoods,” said one witness, Saleban Mahad.

The president has been attempting to move Somalia towards democratic elections, replacing a system based around clan elders.

Mohamud argues he was given an extra year in the presidency when a new constitution was passed by parliament in March that set the framework for polls.

But with the country deeply divided between rival clans, and much of it under the control of al-Shabab, an al-Qaeda-linked armed group, there has been little progress on organising elections beyond a few localised pockets.

Opposition and regional leaders have strongly opposed Mohamud’s plan, seeing it as an attempt to centralise power.

Foreign powers, primarily the United States and the United Kingdom, have attempted to broker talks between the government and opposition to little avail.

Reaction to attack on Khaire

Ex-President Sharif Sheikh Ahmed has also moved into central Mogadishu for Thursday’s protest. He criticised the attack on Khaire, saying the president “seeks to cause further bloodshed despite not having a legitimate official mandate – his time has expired”.

“This attack will not stop the demonstrations by residents of the capital who are protesting against injustice, displacement, and the abuse of government power,” he said on X.

Previous presidents have also stayed in office beyond their mandates.

Former President Mohamed Abdullahi Farmaajo stayed more than a year in office after the official end of his mandate in 2021, triggering violence and condemnation from the international community.

Recent arguments advocating for the international recognition of an integral part of Somalia called Somaliland rest on a series of assumptions that deserve closer scrutiny. While proponents portray Somaliland as a unified, stable, and strategically indispensable state deserving immediate recognition, the realities on the ground tell a far more complicated story.

The first and most fundamental misconception is that the former British Somaliland Protectorate exists today as a coherent political entity. It does not.

The territory that briefly gained independence in June 1960 ceased to exist when it voluntarily united with the Trust Territory of Somalia to form the Somali Republic. More importantly, the geographic and political boundaries claimed by today’s Somaliland administration are neither uncontested nor uniformly accepted by the populations living within them.

Over the past two years, the eastern regions of Sool, Sanaag, and parts of Cayn (SSC) have demonstrated precisely this reality. Following prolonged conflict and popular mobilisation, local communities overwhelmingly rejected rule from Hargeisa and established the North Eastern administration, which has since aligned itself with the Federal Government of Somalia. The people of these regions have made clear that they do not share Somaliland’s secessionist project and instead seek their future within a federal Somali state alongside the vast majority of the Somali people. This development alone undermines the central claim that Somaliland represents a unified political community exercising uncontested authority over the territory it claims.

In the west of the Somaliland region, growing political movements in Awdal have increasingly questioned Hargeisa’s perceived monopoly over political and economic decision-making. Calls for a distinct regional administration have gained momentum, reflecting longstanding grievances regarding political representation, economic development, and governance. These dynamics suggest that the future political map of northwestern Somalia is far more fluid than some advocates of recognition acknowledge.

Recognition advocates frequently point to Somaliland’s stability. Yet, stability cannot be measured solely by the existence of institutions or periodic elections. Genuine stability requires political inclusion, territorial legitimacy, and social consensus. None of these conditions currently exists within the Somali territory of Somaliland.

The reality is that the Somaliland secessionist project faces significant internal opposition. Political disagreements, clan-based tensions, territorial disputes, and competing visions of governance remain unresolved. International recognition cannot erase these challenges. Indeed, it risks intensifying them by encouraging zero-sum political calculations among communities that already feel excluded from decision-making processes.

Equally problematic is the argument that Somaliland’s recognition should be driven primarily by geopolitical competition in the Red Sea. The Horn of Africa should not become another arena where local political disputes are transformed into instruments of broader regional rivalries. Moreover, the attempts to frame Somaliland as a strategic asset in competition with Iran, the Houthis, China, or other global actors overlook a basic reality: sustainable security arrangements cannot be built on unresolved sovereignty disputes.

History offers numerous examples of external powers pursuing short-term strategic gains only to discover that local realities ultimately prevail. Durable partnerships emerge from political legitimacy and regional consensus, not from efforts to bypass internationally recognised states.

Recent developments surrounding Israel’s engagement in the region further illustrate this danger. Rather than producing greater cohesion, external involvement has generated new political tensions and heightened anxieties among local communities concerned about militarisation, foreign influence, and the future direction of regional governance.

The disingenuous assumption that foreign recognition of the Somaliland part of Somalia automatically translates into stability is not supported by any evidence. Moreover, recognition of Somaliland would not simply affect Somalia, as it would carry implications far beyond the Horn of Africa.

The African Union has consistently maintained its commitment to preserving inherited borders and resolving disputes through dialogue. This principle has been essential in preventing countless territorial conflicts across the continent. Creating exceptions without a broad regional consensus risks opening debates that many African states have spent decades working to contain.

The path to lasting peace and stability in Somalia, like in most post-conflict states, lies not in fragmentation but in reconciliation, dialogue, and constitutional settlement among Somalis themselves. Significant progress has already been made through federal institutions, expanding political participation, and locally driven governance arrangements. While challenges remain, they are best addressed through inclusive internal political processes rather than externally imposed outcomes in line with international law.

The Somali government remains committed to dialogue, reconciliation, and constitutional processes that allow all Somali communities to participate in shaping the country’s future. Sustainable peace and stability globally and, specifically, in the Horn of Africa at this most challenging time in human history will be achieved not through fragmentation, but inclusive political solutions that strengthen cooperation, legitimacy, and national unity.

The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial stance.

Somalia is entering one of the most dangerous moments in its recent history without an agreed path towards elections or a political transition. United States and United Kingdom-led talks between the government and the opposition collapsed on May 15, the date on which President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud’s original four-year term was due to expire, leaving the legitimacy of key federal institutions under serious strain.

Justin Davis, the US chargé d’affaires to Somalia, and the UK’s ambassador, Charles King, had been trying to persuade political leaders from both sides to reach an agreement on a political transition roadmap. Their failure leaves the country without an agreed way forward at the worst possible time.

Since 2008, Somalia has frequently been ranked as one of the world’s most fragile states. Under President Mohamud’s leadership, the country is now facing a political deadlock that threatens its survival. This crisis is unfolding amid insecurity, humanitarian distress, economic fragility, widespread corruption and shifting geopolitical rivalries.

At the heart of the crisis is the contested nature of the Somali state itself. Somaliland seeks independence, while Puntland and Jubbaland have broken ties with the Federal Government. Al-Shabab controls significant parts of the country and key roads. The Federal Government and at least three Federal Member States are also operating beyond their mandates. The scheduled electoral calendar has lapsed without a vote: parliament’s four-year mandate expired in April 2026, and the president’s term ran out a month later, yet no agreed roadmap for elections or political transition exists to replace them.

In a controversial process, the government unilaterally changed the constitution, passed an electoral law viewed by its opponents as self-serving, and established an election commission they reject as one-sided. Over the past four years, executive, legislative and judicial powers have become increasingly concentrated in the hands of President Mohamud.

Somalia’s national opposition, along with Puntland and Jubbaland, has characterised the government’s actions as a power grab and rejected them. They argue that the 2012 constitution, which reflects Somalia’s political settlement, remains the law of the land. As a result, Somalia is now caught between two competing claims to constitutional legitimacy. For its part, the government maintains that it is advancing a democratic goal long sought for Somalia, a move from indirect, clan-mediated selection to one-person, one-vote elections, and that the constitutional amendments extending the presidential term from four to five years were lawfully approved by parliament.

Universal suffrage and party-based politics remain a distant aspiration for Somalis. Acknowledging this reality, both the government and the opposition continue to accept the clan-based power-sharing system. However, they disagree on how members of parliament representing clans should be selected at the state and federal levels. The government seeks a one-year term extension and proposes an electoral system for clan representatives that critics say would help it maintain its hold on power. The opposition, by contrast, advocates an improved indirect election process through which clans would choose their representatives.

This political rupture is unfolding in a country already facing severe security and governance challenges. Although security in the capital has improved, widespread violence persists, particularly in south-central Somalia. According to the ACLED database, national fatalities reached a record high in 2025, and al-Shabab is responsible for the large majority of conflict deaths recorded over the past two decades. During the current administration’s four years in office, the same data points to tens of thousands of deaths nationwide, primarily concentrated in Banadir, Lower Shabelle, Lower Jubba and Hiran.

The crisis is also taking place against a worsening humanitarian and economic backdrop. Despite the arrival of rains across the country, humanitarian agencies warn that millions of Somalis are food insecure. International humanitarian efforts are struggling to raise funds to assist those affected by poverty, displacement and conflict. Foreign aid has been declining since the Trump administration dismantled USAID in 2025, while Somalia’s domestic revenue-to-GDP ratio remains in the low single digits. Concerns over the viability and affordability of the state have led many to look towards a resource-based economy, particularly as Turkiye expands its involvement in Somalia’s oil and fisheries sectors.

Corruption has further weakened public trust in state institutions. According to the Corruption Perceptions Index, Somalia has consistently ranked among the most corrupt countries in the world over the past decade. Widespread corruption has undermined almost every aspect of governance. The government’s approach to land management has deepened these concerns, with critics accusing it of forcibly evicting people who occupied public lands during the war and selling some of these lands to merchants without due process. Many citizens with legal documents from previous governments have also lost their homes.

These domestic pressures are being sharpened by regional and global rivalries. Somalia is struggling to navigate intensifying competition in the Horn of Africa, the Gulf of Aden, the Red Sea and the western Indian Ocean. Its divided political class is managing these challenges not as a cohesive state, but through regions, clans and rival political blocs. Different groups have aligned themselves with various regional powers and neighbouring countries.

Regional players, including Turkiye, Saudi Arabia, Israel, the United Arab Emirates, Iran and Egypt, are increasingly active in the Horn of Africa. Israel became the first country to officially recognise Somaliland late last year, intensifying competition among rival regional powers and drawing further attention to Somalia and Somaliland amid the region’s shifting geopolitics.

The political, security, economic and humanitarian pressures have also had serious implications for civic space. The government has been accused of silencing dissent by jailing journalists and civic activists. The opposition is now calling for demonstrations, while the government is openly discouraging public participation.

What should happen now

Somalia stands at a critical juncture. Timely intervention by the international community could help redirect the country away from violence and political fragmentation. In the past, traditional donors, mainly the US, the European Union and the UK, helped facilitate Somalia’s last five political transitions, in 2004, 2008, 2012, 2016 and 2022.

The American and British diplomats in Mogadishu made important efforts to bring the parties together and facilitate dialogue, although these efforts came late. A final push may now require more direct involvement from Washington and London, as well as engagement with non-traditional Gulf donors. Turkiye has also expressed interest in contributing to mediation efforts. This should be welcomed, as Ankara has influence with political actors in both the government and the opposition.

The international community should first pressure the government to negotiate a political roadmap in good faith, with a focus on a workable and timely election process. Villa Somalia should also stop using state institutions, including security forces, the aviation agency and international assistance, as tools in the political dispute.

At the same time, the opposition should be encouraged to engage constructively with the government and avoid initiating a parallel process that could lead to the formation of an alternative government. Most importantly, the international community should impose targeted sanctions on political spoilers who use extrajudicial means to destabilise the country.

Beyond the immediate political impasse, there is also a pressing need for genuine national dialogue and reconciliation. Previous peace processes in Djibouti and Kenya involved a wider range of actors in peacebuilding and helped establish the Third Republic. One lesson from those processes is that institutions built by people who have not fully reconciled cannot last. Somalis have never had the opportunity to engage in a serious and inclusive national dialogue. They need an open forum, genuine reconciliation and state institutions they collectively own.

Somalia is on the brink of political disintegration, but it remains at the prevention stage. That is precisely why the broader international community must act now, as it has in the past. There is still time to guide Somalia away from a self-destructive path and safeguard decades of investment in state-building and peacebuilding.

The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial stance.

Mogadishu, Somalia- Muslims around the world celebrated Eid al-Adha, the Festival of Sacrifice, which marks the end of the Hajj pilgrimage period.

It is the second major holiday in the Islamic calendar after Eid al-Fitr, which follows the holy month of Ramadan.

In Somalia’s capital, Mogadishu, families and communities gathered across the city on Wednesday to celebrate the occasion.

The holiday is typically marked by communal prayers in the morning, family visits, festive meals and outings for children.

Popular locations for the city’s residents include Lido Beach, the Darus Salam Zoo, and Maka al-Mukarama Road, the central business district.

More broadly, Mogadishu has been tentatively emerging from the waves of violence that have rocked the city over recent decades.

Since 2006, the government has been battling al-Shabab, a local affiliate of al-Qaeda, for control of the country – a conflict that has made Mogadishu one of the world’s most dangerous capitals.

But improving security has led to a surge of investment in the city, alongside the emergence of new cafes, restaurants and other recreational spaces.

At an Eid speech at the Islamic Solidarity Mosque, Somalia’s President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud said, “We see the change that has happened in Mogadishu’s security,” and called on the public to protect the city’s peace. Ali Jimale Mosque, the country’s largest, usually draws the biggest crowds and serves as a gathering place for the city’s residents.

Central to Eid al-Adha is the ritual sacrifice of livestock, commemorating the Prophet Ibrahim’s willingness to sacrifice his son before God provided a ram in his place.

The meat is traditionally shared among relatives, neighbours and people in need, reflecting the festival’s emphasis on charity, community and devotion.

Costs for livestock have soared in recent months in Somalia due to failed rains and drought, with a United Nations hunger monitor warning of famine risk in parts of the country.

The Integrated Food Security Phase Classification has said 6.5 million people in Somalia are facing “high levels of acute food insecurity”, a crisis worsened by the country’s ongoing armed fighting and a political standoff that has persisted since the president’s term expired on May 15.

Demonstrators rallied across the Somali capital in support of families displaced by a wave of government-led home demolitions. Opposition figures, who organised the protests, say security forces shot and killed one person while trying to disperse the crowds.

Maryam watched her goats starve and her crops fail. She buried two of her children before she finally gave up hope and sought help from international aid agencies in southern Somalia.

She left her village with her remaining six children, making the long journey along the Jubba River to one of a clutch of makeshift settlements on the outskirts of Kismayo, the capital of Somalia’s Jubbaland state.

Three consecutive seasons of failed rains have doubled Somalia’s malnutrition rate. Maryam, 46, is among more than 300,000 Somalis forced to leave their homes since January alone.

Several international organisations have stopped operations in the Kismayo camp for internally displaced people (IDPs), largely due to aid cuts ordered by United States President Donald Trump last year.

“We are hungry. We need care and help,” said Maryam.

Haunted by the memory of her dead children’s swollen bellies, she says she will not return to her village, which is under the control of the al-Qaeda-linked armed group al-Shabab. Fighters there have started seizing the limited food supplies available.

But the camp is hardly better. In March alone, five children died of malnutrition, its manager says.

Since the early 1990s, Somalia has endured near-constant civil war, armed rebellions, floods and droughts. The war-torn country ranks among the world’s most vulnerable to climate change, which scientists say is leading to more frequent and more intense episodes of extreme weather such as droughts and floods.

Africa, which contributes the least to global warming, bears the brunt.

The recent cuts in foreign aid have not helped. They have had “a huge impact on our work”, said Mohamud Mohamed Hassan, Somalia director for NGO Save the Children.

More than 200 health centres and 400 schools have closed since last year.

Farmers, whose herds and crops have been decimated, describe one of the worst droughts ever recorded in a country where a third of the population already lacked regular meals. Even if the forthcoming rainy season is normal, it will take months for affected populations to recover.

“We cannot afford to actually address all the needs of these people,” said Ali Adan Ali, a Jubbaland official managing the displaced.

At a mobile health clinic supported by Save the Children, the only one still operating for multiple camps in the area around Kismayo, a woman named Khadija tried to feed a high-calorie solution to her severely malnourished one-year-old daughter.

She came to the camp after last year’s drought killed her livestock, but here also “we have nothing to eat”, the 45-year-old said.

A hospital in Kismayo is the only facility in the region capable of treating the most severe cases of malnutrition. But it is turning patients away due to a lack of space and staff.

Every bed is occupied by starving babies, some on ventilators with intravenous drips in their fragile arms. Cases have tripled since last year, and things are only getting worse.

The US-Israel war on Iran has increased fuel prices, affecting food and water supplies.

Those in the camp seek work in construction or cleaning jobs in Kismayo or sell firewood, but the options are limited.

Meanwhile, the United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA) has had to steadily reduce its Somalia programme from $2.6bn in 2023 to $852m this year, especially since Washington slashed its donations. So far, only 13 percent of this year’s target has been raised.

“It’s a toxic cocktail of factors … Things are really, really desperate,” Tom Fletcher, head of OCHA, told the AFP news agency in an interview last week.

“Often we’re having to choose which lives to save and which lives not to save.”

Piracy concerns are rising off the coast of Somalia with the government unable to patrol the vast coastline. Al Jazeera’s Mohammed Hamza says desperate fishermen are taking advantage of the opening to head out and try to make a different kind of catch.

In international politics, the platforms a country sits on often matter as much as what it says. For decades, Somalia was largely the subject of global security discussions, rarely a decisive participant in them. Today, that reality is changing in ways that carry symbolic weight and practical consequences.

Somalia’s recent election to the African Union Peace and Security Council (AU PSC), alongside its membership in the United Nations Security Council (UNSC), marks a turning point in its diplomatic trajectory. For quite some time, Somalia was merely being discussed in the world’s most influential security forums. It is now shaping the agenda on the table.

This shift reflects more than a procedural achievement. It signals the maturity of Somalia’s diplomatic and security institutions, and the steady rebuilding of its international credibility after decades of conflict and state fragility.

For much of the past three decades, decisions affecting Somalia’s security were often made in rooms where Somali voices were either absent or marginal. External actors debated intervention strategies, sanctions regimes, peacekeeping mandates, and humanitarian responses, while Somalia struggled with internal instability.

This membership in the UNSC and AU PSC changes that dynamic fundamentally. These bodies are not symbolic; they make binding decisions, adopt resolutions, authorise peacekeeping operations, and shape international legal frameworks. For Somalia, this may seem something simple, but its impact is profound. Somalia is now part of the process that determines policies affecting its own security and development.

That participation strengthens state-building in several ways. It reinforces institutional capacity within Somalia’s foreign policy apparatus, promotes transparency and accountability through engagement with multilateral norms, and aligns Somalia more closely with international legal and diplomatic standards.

Somalia is transitioning from being a recipient of international decisions to becoming a contributor to them. Somalia’s role on these councils also carries representational significance beyond its own borders.

As a member of the UNSC and AU PSC, Somalia now occupies a rare diplomatic position. It simultaneously represents the interests of the African continent, the Arab and Muslim world, and the least developed countries (LDCs). The concerns of these categories of states have often been overshadowed by the priorities of more powerful nations. Somalia now stands for them.

Somalia’s own first experience in rebuilding institutions after conflict, managing complex security transitions, and balancing sovereignty with international cooperation enables it to advocate not only for itself, but also for broader principles: Inclusive peace processes, sustainable development approaches to security, and equitable participation in global decision-making.

Peace in the world, peace at home

President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud’s 2022 political manifesto, “Somalia at peace with itself, and at peace with the world”, is increasingly reflected in these recent memberships. This vision is proving effective, as Somalia’s participation in global peace decision-making demonstrates a growing alignment between its external engagements and internal stabilisation efforts.

The seats at the UNSC and AU PSC will directly reinforce Somalia’s state-building process. Active involvement in shaping international peace also reflects and supports the way peace and security agendas are being handled domestically.

A defining moment in 2026

The year 2026 represents a rare convergence of opportunity. Somalia’s simultaneous presence at the AU PSC and UNSC provides a diplomatic platform unmatched in its recent history. This dual role should enable it to act as a bridge between regional and global security frameworks. It can ensure that Somalia’s security priorities are reflected in the AU decision, and forwardly, that African priorities are reflected in global resolutions. It can also translate international commitments into regional actions that qualify for alignment with local contexts.

This not only affects diplomacy and policy discussions but offers an opportunity to advocate for real change that directly affects the daily lives of Somalis. Such issues may include counterterrorism, stabilisation support, humanitarian access, development financing, climate security, and mechanisms for inclusive politics. By shaping the content and direction of relevant resolutions, Somalia can help align international commitments more closely with national priorities.

A future shaped by participation

With greater influence comes greater responsibility. Membership in these councils demands consistency and adherence to international norms. Somalia is now ready to navigate these complex diplomatic landscapes, balancing national interests with collective global security obligations. And it is now capable of maintaining credibility through constructive engagement, principled positions, and reliable partnerships.

With Somalia now seemingly committed to momentum on these fronts, its growing international stance will become self-reinforcing. Each diplomatic success will strengthen national institutions, which in turn will enhance future influence.

Somalia’s presence at the highest levels of global and regional security governance marks a significant milestone in its long journey towards recovery and stability. It reflects years of diplomatic effort, institutional rebuilding, and gradual restoration of international trust. It also signals a future in which Somalia is increasingly defined not by crisis, but by stability.

For a country that once stood on the margins of global decision-making, this transformation is both historic and hopeful. It signals a shift from isolation to engagement, from being acted upon to helping shape outcomes.

For young Somali generations who grew up hearing that Somalia could not advance, these diplomatic achievements offer a different narrative. They inspire pride, restore confidence, and help rebuild trust in the nation’s future.

That challenge lies ahead. But after a period of turmoil, Somalia is well positioned to meet it, not as a passive observer, but as an active shaper of its own destiny. This is also part of the broader Somalia policy on defence diplomacy, founded on global collaboration and mutual interdependency.

The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial stance.

On the outskirts of Somalia’s southern port city, the land has become an open graveyard for cattle. Some are left where they fell, while others are buried in shallow graves after consecutive failed rainy seasons.

For many families here, pastoralists who rely on livestock for milk, meat, and income, animals were everything, but what was once a lifeline of food and income has now become a stark symbol of loss.

The impact is not just felt in Kismayo, but across the country, with 6.5 million people forced to skip meals and go hungry every day. Drought and rising costs only pushing the country deeper into crisis.

The humanitarian director at Save the Children, Francesca Sangiorgi, says the crisis is being driven by repeated climate shocks that are compounding over time. “We’re seeing multiple rainy seasons that have failed across the country,” she tells Al Jazeera, adding that even when rain arrives, it is often too uneven and too late to restore livelihoods that have already collapsed.

What’s the scale of the crisis?

The scale of Somalia’s hunger crisis is severe and rapidly worsening.

With a third of the population facing severe food insecurity (classified as IPC Phase 3 and above), many households are struggling to get enough food to meet their basic daily requirements (PDF) — and in some cases going without food altogether, leaving them more vulnerable to malnutrition and illnesses such as diarrhoea, measles, and other infections.

Of these, more than 2 million people are in the most critical conditions short of famine (IPC Phase 4 or emergency levels), where families are facing extreme shortages and are increasingly forced into displacement in search of basic needs, moving towards already overcrowded aid camps where resources are rapidly dwindling.

Children are among the most affected. According to the UN, an estimated 1.8 million children under five in Somalia are at risk of acute malnutrition, putting their survival in immediate danger.

Sangiorgi notes that the deterioration has been unfolding rapidly, its effects already evident.

“The situation of children across the country is extremely concerning,” she explains. “We’re seeing the spread of child illnesses across the country. Dropout rates are extremely high right now, and they continue to rise because of the drought. We want to make sure that children have a chance at life—access to the health and nutrition services they need, as well as education.”

According to Doctors Without Borders, known by its French initials MSF, more than 3.3 million people have been displaced, severely straining the already limited resources and basic services in these communities.

What does the crisis look like on the ground?

Near Kismayo, one of Somalia’s largest camps for displaced people has formed, sheltering families who have nothing to eat and have travelled from across Jubbaland.

One woman describes how her herd has fallen from 200 cattle to just four, ending her very livelihood.

Barwaqo Aden, a displaced Jamame resident in Lower Juba, arrived at the camp only recently, but her eight-month-old daughter is already in the local hospital with severe malnutrition due to the lack of resources.

Others arrive after exhausting journeys, fleeing areas controlled by the armed group al-Shabab. A displaced resident, Hodhan Mohamed, walked for days and crossed the River Juba by boat before reaching a crowded settlement, unsure what she would find. Like many new arrivals, she now waits for assistance that is limited and uncertain.

Sangiorgi explains that secondary displacement – when people who have already been forced from their homes are displaced again – is becoming increasingly frequent. “As services and commodities continue to shrink across the country, the prices of essential goods keep rising as well.”

More than 3.8 million Somalis are currently displaced, making up 22 percent of the population. Many have been uprooted multiple times, moving from one settlement to another as aid resources dwindle and access to support becomes more limited.

What’s driving the crisis?

At its core, the crisis is primarily driven by climate shocks.

Somalia has had three consecutive failed rainy seasons in recent years, drying out rivers, wells, and pasturelands.

For livestock-dependent communities, the impact has been immediate: animals are dying, and with them, livelihoods are disappearing.

As local production collapses, families are forced to buy from markets even as food, fuel, and water prices continue to rise. In rural areas, especially, incomes no longer stretch far enough to meet needs.

Insecurity caused by armed conflict adds further strain, displacing communities and limiting access for aid workers in some regions.

Beyond Somalia, the global economic crisis linked to the US–Israeli war on Iran has also played a role in constricting supply chains. A UN aid chief told the Reuters news agency in March that these disruptions are compounding costs and weakening the ability to deliver assistance, as humanitarian systems come under growing strain.

MSF reported last month that transport costs have risen by up to 50 percent in parts of Somalia, making it harder for people to reach health facilities and increasing the cost of delivering care as fuel prices climb.

The organisation also said more than 200 health and nutrition facilities have closed since early 2025 due to sharp funding cuts, leaving critical gaps in already overstretched health services.

What does the aid collapse look like?

As the need for aid rises, humanitarian funding and response capacities are only shrinking.

The UN response plan for Somalia is currently funded at just 20 percent of what is required — with $1.42bn needed but only $288m received. That discrepancy has forced major cuts, reducing the number of people targeted for assistance from 6 million to just 1.3 million.

For Somalia, which relies heavily on imported food and external assistance, the consequences are immediate. Fewer supplies are reaching ports, while the cost of delivering essentials continues to rise, testing an already fragile system.

As UN humanitarian chief Tom Fletcher told Reuters in March, “These [constraints] will damage our humanitarian supply chains, reduce ‌the ⁠humanitarian supplies we can get to people who need them, but they’ll also drive up energy costs and food costs across the region, this really is a perfect storm of factors right now, and I’m seriously worried,” he stated.

The humanitarian response has been cut by 75 percent, meaning millions of Somalis are no longer receiving assistance, even as the crisis deepens on the ground.