The Unseen Shadows Behind a Fatal Assassination in Mogadishu

NAIROBI, Kenya — The news hit like a storm cloud over a sunny meadow. On an unassuming day in Mogadishu, Hassan Sankay Ali was mercilessly gunned down in the city’s Darusalam neighborhood. To his grieving family, the senseless murder was a meticulously orchestrated execution, possibly stemming from his entangled business dealings. The true motives remain veiled in silence, yet questions echo ominously: Who benefits from this bloodshed?

Hassan’s life was a tapestry of compassion and ambition. From London’s bustling streets, where his family still resides, he fought tirelessly for those who could not fight for themselves. Statements from Mogadishu and London testify to his unwavering dedication to stopping forced evictions of vulnerable communities in northern Mogadishu.

The family’s agony is visceral—an unthinkable twist of fate. Samira, Hassan’s daughter, spoke with MM Somali TV, her voice heavy with disbelief and sorrow. “They ambushed my father in the harsh glare of daylight,” she lamented, recalling the bleak moment her world shattered.

The subsequent gathering of the Somali community in London’s quaint city center restaurant was more than a ceremonial mourning. It was a collective heartache. Even as they shared stories over steaming cups, an unspoken question lingered—how long must this continue?

“His killers vanished like smoke, leaving us in turmoil,” Samira shared, her eyes reflecting the oceans they dared not cross as they feared for their safety. “His lifeless body lies cold in Mogadishu, and we are stuck here, powerless and grieving.” The morgue’s chill is a constant reminder of their insurmountable loss—a loss that defies logic and reason.

“What happened was no accident; it was a cold-blooded plot. He didn’t die by chance,” Samira’s voice trembled like autumn leaves in a gale, capturing the turmoil within. The words hung, heavy as chains. “Now, we are orphaned girls, our protector taken. Justice feels distant, yet we demand it.”

On the official front, Somali police assure that investigations are underway. An unnamed source hinted at progress, assuring Horn Observer that suspects could soon be unmasked. But who dared target Hassan?

The answer may lie in his fight against corruption. Just before his untimely demise, Hassan had taken a stand against unscrupulous developers in Mogadishu’s contested northern land areas—Habaay, Maaxaay, and Bashaqle. Plots rooted in deception, earmarked for an ostentatious development supposedly involving a local bank with deep political ties.

Insiders whisper of an egregiously expanded real estate venture, growing from 16 to 30 square kilometers like a beast untamed, promising luxury villas and sprawling airports. Betrayed landowners protested vehemently against this ‘development,’ allegedly bankrolled by corrupt officials allied with President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud.

In a steely denunciation, Shuriye Mohamed of the Movement Against Oppression called for immediate scrutiny of Hassan’s murder, casting light on those hidden in the shadows.

“The time for words has ended. Justice must step out from the shadows and don its armor,” echoed Abdirahman Moalim, a former politician and voice for the British-Somali community. His call to action piqued a fervor among mourners demanding accountability.

The gathering in London’s heart, a poignant mosaic of unity, was covered by MM TV journalist Abdifatah Ali Shirwa. Voices merged into a chorus, urging the Somali government to pursue justice with vigor.

Alarming patterns suggest a macabre reality—a calculated targeting of returning diaspora members. Their dreams of rebuilding crushed, fears of politically motivated eradications loom large. Was Hassan just another victim of these nudging conspiracies that dance between business ambitions and political rivalries?

Every assassination deepens the rift between hope and despair. As Mogadishu wrestles with its demons, perhaps Hassan’s legacy will light the path for unyielding resilience.

The soul’s weight and the silence’s sorrow might just speak louder than gunshots. A tale unceremoniously told, penned in blood and tears—a penurious solace, but one that must be remembered.

A journalist contributed reporting from Mogadishu.

Edited By Ali Musa
Axadle Times International–Monitoring