Measuring the Economic Impact of Khat (Mira) on Somalia
Somalia’s khat bill: How a daily airlift of mira to Mogadishu drains a fragile economy
Somalia’s dependence on khat—known locally as qaad and as mira in Kenya—has evolved from a social habit into a structural economic liability. Official statements tabled in Kenya’s National Assembly on December 3, 2025, show just how lopsided the trade has become: Somalia is Kenya’s largest export destination for mira, accounting for more than 95 percent of Kenya’s total mira export volume. The crop supports an estimated 110,000 Kenyan farmers, mainly in Meru and Embu counties. The bill is paid, however, by Somali households.
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Since July 2022, mira shipments to Somalia have moved exclusively by air, with Mogadishu’s Aden Adde International Airport serving as the primary entry point. Between 13 and 17 metric tonnes arrive daily, according to Kenyan government data. Priced for Somalia’s market, a kilogram of mira lands in Mogadishu at about $28—before local transport, markups and security costs. The retail price in Mogadishu markets averages about $40 per kilogram.
That arithmetic translates into a daily cash outflow that would trouble any developing economy, let alone one struggling to rebuild institutions and livelihoods after decades of conflict.
- At the import price, Somalia spends roughly $364,000 to $476,000 per day on mira.
- At retail prices, Somali consumers pay an estimated $520,000 to $680,000 per day.
- That equals about $15.6 million to $20.4 million per month, or $187 million to $245 million per year, circulating through Somalia’s khat market.
Even on conservative assumptions using import costs alone, Somalia’s spending ranges from about $10.9 million to $14.3 million each month, and $131 million to $171 million per year. Those figures exclude the costs that never appear in customs ledgers: domestic transport and security premiums; downstream health expenses; and productivity losses linked to prolonged khat consumption. When retail prices are counted, the true economic burden on Somali households is substantially higher.
A three‑year ledger underscores the scale. Kenya’s Ministry of Agriculture reported that approximately 17 million kilograms of mira were exported to Somalia between the July 2022 reopening and October 2025. At $28 per kilogram on arrival, that is roughly $476 million in hard currency outflows for Somalia. Valued at Mogadishu’s retail price of $40 per kilogram, Somali consumer spending over the same period totals about $680 million.
The distribution of benefits and burdens is just as stark. In Kenya, mira revenue is tethered to a rural economy with public backing—roads and market sheds, water infrastructure such as boreholes, crop research, and farmer cooperatives. Lawmakers there describe an organized agricultural value chain with access to finance and regulatory oversight. Somalia, by contrast, finances the trade almost entirely through private consumption and remittances, with no comparable feedback loop into domestic productivity. The net effect is a systematic resource transfer: Somali households fund rural development in Kenya while deferring investment in Somalia’s own education, health care, infrastructure and job creation.
This is not simply a morality tale about a stimulant leaf. It is a balance‑of‑payments problem. Every day, cash that could expand credit to small businesses, upgrade clinics, keep girls in school or stabilize local administrations is converted into a perishable commodity whose economic life ends within hours. In a labor market marked by high unemployment and underemployment, the opportunity cost is severe.
Somalia’s policymakers know the social dimensions well—household disputes over spending, lost work hours, and documented health risks. But the financial architecture of mira deserves equal scrutiny. A commodity imported exclusively by air is acutely sensitive to currency availability, logistics bottlenecks and security conditions. It also signals the outsize bargaining power of suppliers and intermediaries, who capture the largest margins while Somali consumers absorb the risk.
None of this negates the complex social role khat plays in Somali society or the livelihoods attached to its distribution inside Somalia. But the current scale of consumption, set against fragile state finances, demands a policy response that addresses demand, prices and revenue capture without courting economic shock. The goal is not to moralize, but to manage an unavoidable reality with fiscal intelligence.
Several steps could reframe the problem from a permanent drain into a managed burden:
- Measure what matters. Publish monthly import volumes, declared values and routes for mira. Transparent data is the precondition for effective policy and public debate.
- Price the externalities. Consider a targeted excise on mira calibrated to avoid abrupt disruption of markets while reflecting health, security and productivity costs. Pair any levy with clear, public earmarks.
- Ring‑fence revenue for human capital. Dedicate mira tax proceeds to clinics, addiction support, school feeding programs and job training—high‑impact uses that directly offset the social costs of consumption.
- Formalize the chain. Reduce leakage by consolidating points of entry, tightening compliance at airports and auditing wholesale licenses. Formal markets are easier to tax and regulate than informal ones.
- Expand alternatives. Scale microcredit and youth employment programs that offer substitutes to hourly trading and daily consumption. Behavioral change sticks when viable alternatives exist.
- Coordinate regionally. Engage Kenyan counterparts so that trade protocols support safety and predictability while Somalia captures a fairer share of value in logistics and ancillary services.
Critics will counter that mira provides income to thousands of Somalis in distribution and retail and that any squeeze could ripple through fragile local economies. That is true—and precisely why policies should be phased, data‑driven and insulated from rent‑seeking. The alternative is the status quo, in which resources leave the country at scale with minimal return to public goods.
Somalia has made visible progress in recent years: debt relief milestones, security transitions, and steps toward broader economic reform. The mira trade tests whether that progress can be translated into everyday governance that protects household welfare and builds national resilience. Put bluntly, a country cannot tax itself into prosperity—but it can stop subsidizing its own decline.
Kenyan lawmakers have already made clear how mira revenues serve their constituencies—funding boreholes, market sheds, research institutes and farmer cooperatives. The question Somalia must now answer is equally practical: Can a nation intent on rebuilding its state afford a continuous outflow of hundreds of millions of dollars for a commodity that adds little to its productive base? Until the numbers change, the economics answer themselves.
By Ali Musa
Axadle Times international–Monitoring.