MOGADISHU, Somalia (Baraarug) – It’s a harsh reality: almost every girl in Somalia endures female genital mutilation (FGM). With around 99.2% of women aged 15–49 affected, this brutal tradition leaves lifelong physical and emotional wounds.
Despite years of efforts to bring change, progress has been anything but swift. Galmudug is the only federal state to implement a ban in early 2024, but even there, enforcement lags. The practice lingers in secrecy.
Memories of survivors paint a haunting picture. Nasteho, only seven, was taken by her grandmother to experience the cut. Reflecting on it, she shared, “I was clueless. My mom, living elsewhere, questioned it. Grandmother insisted it was tradition.”
FGM doesn’t discriminate. Whether in sprawling cities or remote villages, girls across Somalia face it. Opting out means risking shame, insults, or even being ostracized. Sadly, some men still demand wives who have undergone the procedure, falsely equating it with fidelity.
In Mogadishu’s displacement camps, four women revealed their own ordeals. Three were swiftly married to older men. Shukri, orphaned young, underwent the cut at seven at her aunt’s behest and later married. “The pain worsened with marriage. Childbirth brought another cut. Once, I tried to leave, but escaping wasn’t an option,” she shared.
Halima, cut at eleven, recalls the agony. “Pain with urination, painful cycles. Desperation drove my mother to marry me off for money,” she recounted. Now, she champions against FGM: “Stop this,” she urges.
Some former practitioners are becoming advocates. Ruqia Abdulle, who performed FGM for four decades, now speaks out, though she controversially supports a “milder” form, Sunno, which rights groups argue is still a violation.
In Galkayo, straddling the borders of Galmudug and Puntland, legality hasn’t eradicated the practice. Asha vividly remembers her own cutting in 2005. “I was chained, the anesthetic failed, and I bled excessively,” she described. Many girls face such horrors without medical help—some lose their lives.
Religious leaders like Sheikh Dahir Muse denounce any religious justification for FGM. “Harming others contradicts Islamic law,” he stated firmly.
In Galkayo’s IDP camp, former cutter Kamila Hussein now advocates against FGM. “After 15 years, I quit. Now, we meet weekly to spread awareness. Families see the dangers—it can kill young girls,” she explained.
Campaigners trace FGM in Somalia to pre-Islamic times, back to ancient Egypt. “Pharaohs weren’t Muslim, yet this persists among Somali Muslims,” noted Ifrah Ahmed of the Ifrah Foundation. “Governments promise, but no national ban materializes.”
Today, Somalia leads globally in FGM prevalence—an enduring scar on nearly every girl. It’s a grim testament to a practice deemed one of the harshest human rights violations.
Baraarug spearheads digital campaigns to empower Somali women and youth, fighting for civic rights. For further insights on Baraarug, explore their work online.
Edited by: Ali Musa
alimusa@axadletimes.com
Axadle international–Monitoring
