The Intolerable Burden of Hope: Understanding Why Somali Millennials Are Losing Belief in Transformation

Somalia’s young’uns, especially those who sprouted just as the Siad Barre regime fizzled out, know naught but turmoil. Drama and chaos have been their babysitters. We’ve hung on for yonks, looking for some government worth its salt, but just when we think there might be some glimmer of silver linings, doubt crashes the party. Is change just a pipe dream?

A smidgen of impatience ain’t outlandish given that every step forward seems to come with a hop back. Walking amidst shattered pledges and dislocation, our enthusiasm for a rosy tomorrow feels like it’s fast slipping through our fingers. Admittedly, we go through the election rigmarole every handful of years, yet the narrative seems static. Francis Imbuga’s musings from Betrayal in the City strike a chord: “It was better while we waited. Now, it’s like catching the misty whiff of hope—implies there’s rain, but nope.”

Federalism, we thought, would save the day and harmonize the grievances plaguing Somalia. Instead, separations among clans have snowballed, splintering communities. For instance, in Beledweyne, the same river marks an uncrossable line for two clans, wary of bumping into each other. Hiiraan’s tribes shrug at anything Hirshabelle, opting for their own assembly. It’s a mishmash of tangled rivalries rather than any real mending among locals.

It ain’t baffling why some folks my age are casting aside hope. Being refugees wasn’t just part of growing up; it was our whole shebang. Back to Somalia, even simple services have price tags attached, denominated in clan affiliations. Hard work feels like an afterthought when you’re up against a system that barely tips its hat at scholarship or elbow grease. The narrative is bleak when young Somali minds witness lavish lifestyles sanctioned by nothing more than maneuvering and swank.

I can’t shake from memory a clip from last September: Dr. Sakariye Cabdi Jaamac’s fate confined him to an unfriendly health clinic in Galkacyo, a by-product of nepotistic feuds. Many aspiring doctors I knew winced at additional risks for wanting to serve their communities. Who wouldn’t pause in the face of such senseless vendettas?

Lately, the government’s move to onboard teachers nationwide seemed a solid proposition at a first glance. Alas, circumstances led one educator I met into a hornet’s nest of tribal tiffs, leaving him rattled. Until we roll back the root causes of aggression and polarities, it’s like planting mangoes up in the Arctic.

I stood in Kismayo back in October 2019 when federal honchos halted airways to sour politicians’ plans. Yet, it snagged citizens in a political snare, like the poor family needing to shift their injured kin to Mogadishu. Policies aimed at quenching political flames inadvertently char ordinary lives – that’s no fine way to cement faith.

Somali youth, over two-thirds of us breathing, are on a tightrope. Irrationality in politics, bleak job prospects, and barren opportunities steer us into dangerous waters. The UNDP throws out jarring figures: 67% unemployment among young ‘uns aged 14-29 – tip-top worldwide. Over half are itching for greener pastures. Can we fault them?

I swapped stories with Faatima Ali, a mum of two who’s grown up amid the tarpaulins of Baidoa’s IDP camp. Humanitarian outfits are all she’s ever banked on. Election after election, she holds a flicker of hope for change and security but faces disappointment. How do we help Faatima see a smidgeon of light yonder in this dark tunnel?

Or picture this: Bilal, a 13-year-old scholar from Mogadishu, was lauded as “the mayor” by friends – but in a land heavily reliant on clan identity, Bilal’s ambitions seem as distance as a mirage in the desert. When the 4.5 power-share comes into play and talent takes a back seat to loyalty that’s rooted in tribes, dreams stall.

Many of us millennials residing in rentals can only look at actual property ownership as a far-off legend. Earnings dallied between peanuts and nickels – $100 to $500 – guess who’s snapped up prime land? Hint: powerful bigwigs, snatching up morsels meant for all. For those who’ve hustled and persevered, the diddly squat of it all is pretty deflating.

Pondering whether we might convince forthcoming Somali generations to root themselves in a country that’s routinely let down its dreamers isn’t far-fetched when seeing examples like Abbas Abdullahi Sheikh Siraji’s demise. Once a camp refugee, a young minster, shot down – by folks sworn to protect, mind you – how ever to lure back trained minds from far and near when this continues?

Undeniably, our impatience is not just fathomable—it’s a natural upshot. A brighter Somalia hangs in the balance, loyal to its youth, but we’re often sidelined or muted. It isn’t indifference dragging us down, but successive betrayals crafted by systems that favor might over right, clans over caliber.

Point the finger at the system, then ask what’s tailoring the sentiment so Somalia’s youth can confidently seize tomorrow. Without tapping into youthful energy and quelling age-old issues of clanism, it’s a dreary trap claiming Somalia’s future. Time to set sail on progress and stop dawdling.

Abdi Hafow Mohamed

Abdi is a social researcher and humanitarian practitioner based in Mogadishu.

[email protected]

Edited by: Ali Musa

Axadle international–Monitoring