Mahad Wasuge

Nearly three months ago—April 7, to be exact—I was selected to participate in a Transformational Leadership course scheduled for June 9–20, 2025, in Arusha, Tanzania. I submitted my application on March 24, the final deadline and the same day I received the request to apply. It was during Ramadan. Fortunately, I was nominated and then selected for the course, which was tailored for leaders from both governmental and non-governmental institutions across Africa.

I travelled to Kismayo on Friday, 23 May. The trip was part of a series of roundtable discussions that Somali Public Agenda (SPA) and Puntland Development Research Center (PDRC) were convening to explore options for compromise on FGS-FMS relations, constitutional review, and elections.

On the early morning of Thursday, 27 February 2025, my wife, Shukri, called me with heartbreaking news: my beloved sister, Fowsiya Abdullahi Hussein, had passed away just moments before. At the time, I was in Nairobi, far from Mogadishu, where she took her last breath. The news overwhelmed me with grief. As I turned on my internet, I saw numerous missed calls from my mother and siblings. The painful reality set in—I had to plan her burial alongside other family members in Mogadishu. That same day, we laid her to rest.

Despite these realities, this is home. It is where I feel a sense of belonging. I visited and spent time with family members, relatives, neighbors, and friends. I asked my mother about the neighbors and visited them.

Dear son Mohamed,
This has been an important week for our family and for you. You have successfully completed the memorization of the Holy Quran, and we had the privilege of witnessing you speak in front of hundreds of participants at your graduation ceremony on December 4. You cannot imagine how proud we were to see you

From my childhood, I was very interested in working a media as a newscaster or

On 30 August 2021, my dear brother Abdikarim Abdullahi Hussein died in Buulaburte. It took me almost three years to put the painful feelings of his departure into writing. I was reluctant to write about the death of my beloved brother and the heavy emotions and pain I felt when he died.

My friend Mohamed Omer invited me to attend the Somali Youth Summit, which took place in Jigjiga between 25 and 27 November this year. I had never been to Jigjiga before, and I was interested and excited to visit the town and engage with its people. There is no direct flight from Mogadishu to Jigjiga. The two options I had were a transit to Addis Ababa or a flight to Hargeisa and then make road trip to Jigjiga. I wanted to maximize my travel experience and opted for the latter option.