When tragedy hits home, it echoes painfully through the lives of those left behind. Leyla Mahmud Ahmed was no exception to this heartache, as she grappled with indescribable anguish over the execution of her brother, Mohamed Nur Hussein, in Saudi Arabia. The ruling, she emphatically claims, was unjust and devastatingly felt by her family. (Credit: Supplied via BBC)
Mogadishu (AX) — The grim news was delivered with chilling finality: Mohamed Nur Hussein, a Somali man detained for seven long years in Saudi Arabia, had been executed without warning. Imagine speaking to a loved one full of hope one day, only to learn they’re gone the next. It’s a reality that Hussein’s family now lives with, disoriented and heartbroken.
The accusation? Drug smuggling in Najran province. The Saudi authorities had caught him trafficking hashish, and the Supreme Court had confirmed his fate. Even King Salman had signed off on the execution, underscoring the kingdom’s unyielding stance against drug-related offenses.
But what of justice and humanity? For Leyla and her family, this was neither. It was a cruelty that seemed to mock the definition of fairness itself. A fellow inmate had broken the news to Leyla, leaving her in disbelief.
“We just spoke to him. He told us he had hope. He said he would be freed soon,” she confided to the BBC, the crack in her voice echoing the fracture in her heart.
How can one make sense of such a stark outcome? “What kind of justice is this?” she demanded, her voice a quiet storm of grief and outrage. Hussein, who had navigated life in Yemen for over a decade before his arrest in Saudi Arabia, had always assured them of his looming release.
Though Ahmed acknowledged the charges against her brother, she maintained that the ultimate penalty was excessively severe.
“This is not justice,” she insisted, the stark reality heavy on her tongue. “Mohamed had five children who now face a world devoid of their father’s presence.”
Saudi Arabia stands among the sternest enforcers of punitive measures for drug crimes, employing public executions as a deterrent to would-be offenders. A staggering number of lives have been claimed by these severe policies, particularly following the ascent of King Salman and Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman in 2015.
Amnesty International has corroborated a chilling statistic: in 2024 alone, Saudi Arabia executed at least 198 individuals, a record-high count that casts a long shadow over the kingdom’s pledges to reduce such drastic measures.
Yet, the somber cadence of executions continues unabated, with drug-related charges leading many to the gallows. How did we arrive at a point where death sentences are meted out with such dispatch and frequency?
Consider this: Hussein’s story is not solitary. The Somali consulate in Jeddah reveals a disconcerting reality wherein dozens of Somali nationals languish on Saudi Arabia’s death row, ensnared by circumstances perhaps beyond their full understanding. It’s a situation echoed by Ahmed Mahmoud Diriye (Macaruuf), the Somali Consul in Saudi Arabia.
He affirmed the identification of 45 to 50 Somali detainees, predominantly picked up near the perilous Yemen border. Official entreaties for clemency have been met with continued silence—an echo of lost hope as executions persist despite earnest diplomatic efforts.
“We explained to Saudi officials that some detainees were unaware of the full legal consequences, while others were coerced into smuggling drugs,” Macaruuf explained, highlighting a perilous intersection of ignorance, coercion, and dire results.
Will more resolute interventions break this cycle of despair? Activists and families alike clamor for more assertive diplomatic strategies to prevent further tragedies akin to Hussein’s untimely demise.
For Hussein’s family, the grief remains piercing. His children, robbed of their father, face futures irreparably altered. Leyla remains haunted by his final words of hope, a sentiment cruelly extinguished by stark reality.
Edited By Ali Musa
Axadle Times International–Monitoring
