Witness in Feeding Our Future Case Breaks Down, Describes Family Rift Caused by Fraud

The serene edifice of the federal courthouse in downtown Minneapolis stands as a silent witness to many tales of justice. On a sultry afternoon of May 5, 2022, this stately structure cradled another narrative—one steeped in shame and regret. As captured by Ben Hovland for the Sahan Journal, it seemed almost surreal that within its chambers, lives were unraveling.

Qamar Hassan, co-owner of a Minneapolis catering firm, stood on the stand, shoulders bowed under the weight of a confounding $250 million fraud conspiracy. “Every waking moment is a reminder of our folly,” she confessed, her voice quivering. In that courtroom, amidst the hushed whispers, her admission felt haunting yet cathartic. “We were blinded by the pursuit of money,” she lamented, each tear brimming with the consequences of their actions.

S&S Catering, Qamar’s enterprise, once boasted claims of providing thousands of meals daily across multiple locations. Ironically, one such location was just a floor above her business’s headquarters, orchestrated by her daughter, Filsan Hassan. Mother and daughter both admitted guilt—culpable of conspiracy to commit wire fraud and money laundering.

Desperation drove them into these murky waters. A mother trying to uplift her divorced daughter, who lacked not only a companion but basic means of transport, thought enrolling in the federal child nutrition programs would be their saving grace. “She owned nothing,” Qamar confessed, fighting back her anguish. Yet, her intentions had devastating repercussions. When queried by Assistant U.S. Attorney Joe Thompson if this endeavor aided her daughter in any tangible way, her response was a somber “No.”

“She resents me because of it,” Qamar revealed, her voice now stripped bare. In a twist of sobering irony, maternal love, meant to shield and nurture, became a conduit of animosity.

This episode unfolded during the second week of proceedings against Aimee Bock, the former executive director of Feeding Our Future, and Safari Restaurant’s erstwhile co-owner, Salim Said. Prosecutors labeled them architects of the nation’s most sprawling COVID-19 fraud scheme, one leveraging federal aid distributed through Minnesota’s Department of Education.

What leads a community to collective deceit? Feeding Our Future, among other sponsors, redirected federal funds to vendors like S&S Catering under the guise of preparing meals for Minneapolis’s youth. Yet, the integrity of their operations soon unraveled—false reports, inflating numbers, ghost meals. “People envied the assets: cars, houses— the luxuries,” Qamar confessed. She herself banked over $5 million, a figure that rings hollow in its accomplishment.

In 2020, when COVID’s shadow loomed large, Qamar saw an opportunity. S&S Catering, temporarily shuttered due to health restrictions, re-emerged—bolstered by her acquaintance with Sahra Nur, a confidante and compatriot in crime—who had already woven connections with Bock. Sahra was not just a friend, but also an intermediary, ushering Somali-operated childcare centers into the fold of Feeding Our Future.

Yet the intricacies of their operation bore a starker narrative. Abdikerm Eidleh, an elusive employee of Feeding Our Future, guided Qamar, whispering strategies rather than explicit instructions to fabricate meal reports. Claiming 5,000 dinners a day, as per his suggestion, left her incredulous. “The numbing dissonance of deceit, that’s what stunned me,” she suggested.

Eidleh, now absent from the country, echoes as a specter in this tale, charged yet elusive. Meanwhile, Kenneth Udoibok, representing Bock, highlighted Qamar’s scant interactions with his client, painting a picture of her as a mere pawn rather than a perpetrator. Nevertheless, he also probed Qamar’s relationship with Sahra Nur—was she intimidated by her? The simple answer: respect born of dependence, “She aided my beginnings; that bond demands allegiance.”

Anchoring her narrative further, Qamar divulged that concerns about disharmony in meal reports were never explicitly raised. “Did they doubt? Certainly, their awareness was astute, I reasoned.”

On the stand, a visual chronicle—a vibrant video encapsulating revelry—served as an unsaid confession. A grand celebration unfolded after Bock resumed federal payments by appeasing skeptical state education officials. This festivity, ironically financed by fraudulent wealth, showcased Somali women extolling Bock. Their rhythmic chants of gabay intertwined with disquiet as gratitude and guilt coalesced.

Qamar admitted her presence at the gala, organized in a lavish venue procured at a princely sum of $5 million. Thompson’s voice, resonating in the courtroom, sliced through the festivity’s veneer: “Was this for the kids?” “No,” took the stage— a cold truth. “What then?” persisted Thompson. “The wealth,” Qamar answered, tethering her grief in a candid declaration.

In this dramatic theatre of justice, lessons emerged from throes of avarice—a compelling reminder that actions, like shadows, cling relentless

Edited By Ali Musa Axadle Times International–Monitoring