Mogadishu (AX) — With a blend of confidence and caution, Somali Minister of Endowments and Religious Affairs, Mukhtar Robow Ali, firmly assures his nation that Al-Shabaab’s capacity to menace Mogadishu is on the wane. Speaking at a somber press conference in the heart of Somalia’s capital, Robow delineated the situation with a conviction born from firsthand experience—a narrative rich in complexity and hope.
Hosting the press on a sunny Sunday afternoon, Robow candidly addressed the recent uptick in Al-Shabaab activities. “Alarm is understandable,” he acknowledged, a glance of empathy fleeting across his face, “but let’s not mistake sound for resurgence.” His voice, steady with the weight of history, dispelled comparisons linking Somalia’s fate to the turbulent streets of Kabul or Damascus. “Mogadishu is neither Kabul nor Damascus,” he declared, echoing with a firm resolve, “and Ahmed Diiriye is no Ahmed Sharaac. Leadership requires connectivity, not isolation.”
Robow’s road from a key player within Al-Shabaab to a pivotal government voice against it is itself a tale of remarkable transformation. Once a deputy emir, Robow defected in 2017, leaving behind a life marked by shadows for one striving for light—a narrative that underscores the potential for change even in the most entrenched situations. In 2022, his journey took another pivotal turn as he was appointed Minister of Religious Affairs, positioning him at the frontline in the ideological battle against extremism.
His assurances emerge amidst a backdrop of heightened Al-Shabaab activity in central Somalia—a flare-up that saw fleeting captures, including the strategic town of Balcad, a mere 30 kilometers from Mogadishu. Although government forces swiftly regained the territory, the breach unsettled many, casting doubts on the robustness of current counterinsurgency measures.
The sense of urgency transcended borders, prompting the U.S. Embassy in Mogadishu to release a stark warning of “imminent attacks,” leading to heightened caution. Such dire advisories painted a canvas of international concern, but were met with a mix of resilience and defiance by Somali President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud. With a voice carrying both gravity and optimism, he dismissed these foreign alarms as “propaganda,” reinforcing the nation’s resolve to intensify both air and ground offensives.
“Victory over this enemy is possible only through unity,” President Mohamud asserted, a rhetoric blending resolve and a call to action, “Stay away from Al-Shabaab-controlled areas — airstrikes are coming.”
Robow’s reassurances come against a narrative thick with narratives—not just political or military, but deeply personal. During a defining moment at the press conference, he unfolded a heart-wrenching story of familial pain caused by the very group he once was part of. The brutal abduction of his sister-in-law, leaving her infant perilously abandoned, painted a poignant picture of the group’s merciless tactics. “Their cruelty knows no bounds,” Robow stated, his eyes reflecting a mix of sorrow and determination. “I urge these heartless individuals to fear Allah and repent.”
In unison with Robow’s call for unity, Sheikh Ali Wajiis, a senior religious scholar, took the podium, underscoring the religious community’s denunciation of Al-Shabaab’s ideology. “They have distorted the beauty of Islam,” he asserted, “turning it into an ugly mask of terror.”
Such stories tug at our human core, urging us to ponder: What spurs such transformations? How do the whispers of conscience grow louder than the echoes of ideology? As Somalia wrestles with challenges both within and without, its narrative is a testament to resilience—a reminder that beyond adversity, hope finds its voice, often less than perfect, yet undeniably human.
