If you ask an ordinary Somali citizen what their government has done for them in recent years, the answer is often preceded by a brief, knowing laugh. It is not a laugh of happiness, but the kind people give when the truth is obvious and beyond dispute.
Whether you walk through a market in Xuddur or sit in a tea shop in Mogadishu, the complaint is the same and its tone does not change: the people leading the country have been highly successful in serving their private interests, but the country itself is in a dire situation.
This is not merely an isolated public sentiment. In February 2026, Transparency International released its 2025 Corruption Perceptions Index. Somalia scored just 9 out of 100, placing it at the very bottom of the global rankings, alongside South Sudan, in a year when the global average also fell to its lowest level in more than a decade. A single figure cannot fully define the condition of an entire country, but when a nation remains at the bottom year after year, the problem is no longer simply misfortune; it becomes an entrenched pattern.
When government turns into a family business
Using power to advance private interests is not something Somali leaders invented; it exists everywhere in the world. What makes Somalia’s situation particularly painful, however, is the way public offices are openly managed as though they were personal property.
A minister is appointed, and within months a relative wins a major contract. A cousin is given an important position. Before long, you see a brother-in-law become the owner of the company providing services to the ministry. No one needs to expose this practice, because everyone understands how things are run.
Public office is no longer a genuine national responsibility, but a source of wealth to be exploited before the term ends. Many leaders behave like people occupying a short-term rented office, knowing that their time in power is limited and its future uncertain. They quickly secure whatever they can to guarantee a comfortable life for their children and families.
The question, “What does the country need?” is rarely asked. Instead, the thought that is always present is: “What can I leave for my children before this chapter closes?”
The absence of a national public-interest vision
In healthy political systems, leaders debate the best ways to serve the public. They may disagree over the construction of roads and schools, taxation, and security, but they all accept the basic principle that government exists to serve its citizens.
That principle is extremely weak in Somalia. For the most part, political decisions are determined by a few narrow questions: Which clan benefits from this step? Which alliance does this issue support? Who will benefit directly? And how will it affect my role in the next election or negotiations over seats?
The national interest is no longer the guide for government decisions. Instead, it has become an afterthought or a slogan used to decorate political speeches. Citizens eventually understand this. Once they realize that family, clan, and social networks are the only things that have ever protected them, they stop expecting much from their government altogether.
That is where the breakdown of nation-building begins. A government cannot ask citizens for sacrifice, tax payments, or patience when they trust their clan more than their government. Moreover, a government cannot build a sustainable future if it lacks the ability to ask anything of its people.
Institutions without teeth
Greed and ambition alone do not sustain corruption. It persists because the institutions tasked with combating it are dysfunctional, suppressed, or ignored.
Consider what is required for genuine accountability: an auditor general who is fearless and rigorously examines government accounts; a parliament that seriously holds the executive branch to account instead of engaging in quiet bargaining; courts capable of issuing firm rulings against powerful people, with those rulings enforced; and a free press able to conduct investigations without fear of retaliation.
Most of these institutions exist in Somalia in name, at least legally. In practice, however, their independence and enforcement powers are often absent. After a report is written, it is put in a file and hidden away. A scandal erupts, followed by silence. The official accused is quietly transferred to another position. This recurring pattern teaches everyone one lesson: powerful people face no consequences.
Integrity becomes a liability when there is no accountability. The official involved in opaque deals gets ahead of the honest one who keeps away from them. In the end, the system rewards precisely the behavior it was supposed to punish.
Who actually pays the price?
It is easy to discuss corruption as figures in reports or merely as a topic of conversation. But real people pay the price for this problem.
It affects the mother who walks a long distance to a health center with no medicine. It affects the teacher who delivers lessons without receiving their salary on time. Young graduates who send job applications to ten different places discover that employment opportunities go to those with the right phone number or the desired clan connection. It affects farmers in drought-hit districts who wait for assistance promised in speeches but never seen on the ground.
Similar concerns were noted in comments on the latest assessment: hospitals lacking funding, corruption on the rise, and flood defenses that have never been built. Somalia knows this reality all too well. Droughts and floods recur with painful regularity. A country that had made substantial investments and developed plans would still face difficulties, but their impact would be far less severe than it is now. Poor planning is not merely a source of financial loss; it is a failure to set priorities.
Loss of trust is another severe cost that is difficult to quantify. Aid agencies hesitate to provide support. Investors stay away from the market. Somalis living abroad wonder whether the system will allow them to return home and begin a new life. Honest people, whether inside or outside government, find it difficult to believe that their efforts will be valued whenever a new scandal emerges.
The impact on state-building
For years, Somalia has been rebuilding its state, and tangible progress has been made. There are now government institutions that did not exist a generation ago. Somali youth today are ambitious, educated, and connected to the wider world in ways their parents could never have imagined.
However, building offices and signing contracts are not the only foundations of state-building. It is about earning legitimacy and citizens’ trust that the government belongs to them and serves their interests. That trust is what corruption erodes from within.
A government seen as an opportunity to improve the lives of leaders’ families will always remain fragile. Security forces whose salaries are stolen or delayed are more easily lured by others. Bul
