
14/07/2025
The Clan Trap: How Tribal Politics Undermines Somali Region
In Somali Region, clan identity has long been the thread that weaves communities together, a source of belonging, continuity, and shared pride. This complex kinship system once acted as a lifeline in challenging environments, helping to preserve traditions and provide collective security. However, as the world has modernized, this cultural legacy has taken a darker turn. What used to be a unifying force has transformed into clannism, a toxic political ideology that places tribal loyalty above everything else, tainting the foundations of justice, democracy, and progress.
The shift from cultural identity to a political tool didn’t occur in a day. Much like termites slowly eating away at a grand baobab tree, clannism has quietly undermined the region's governance systems. Today, it poses the biggest challenge to creating a fair and inclusive society. You can see the signs everywhere: public offices turning into family legacies instead of roles earned through hard work; talented young professionals from the "wrong" clans facing sudden roadblocks in their careers; and the painful rifts that pit neighboring communities against each other, all vying for limited political favors.
You can really see this dynamic play out in the corridors of regional power. The Somali Regional Government operates under an unspoken yet unyielding rule; leadership is reserved for certain bloodlines. A select few clans hold a tight grip on important positions, using a complex system of tribal calculations that would make even medieval politics look modest. This isn’t just a case of favoritism; it’s a deeply ingrained system of exclusion, where who you’re born to matters more than your talent, and connections often overshadow actual skills. The outcome? A government that feels more like an exclusive club than a public institution.
The real tragedy is the missed opportunities all around us. Take Oromia, for instance, where leaders from West Guji, Borana, Arsi, Bale, Wellega and Shawa have emerged not because of their family ties, but due to their vision and skills. Their achievements show that Oromia's rich diversity can actually be a source of strength instead of a dividing line.
Unfortunately, in the Somali Region, this valuable lesson seems to fall on deaf ears as political families hold onto power, treating public resources like their own personal inheritance. The consequences are dire, development is stunted, instability is chronic, and a whole generation of talent is either leaving or completely disengaging.
When the oppressive regime fell in 2018, many of us dared to dream of change. Maybe this was the time when merit would finally take precedence over lineage. But breaking old habits is tough. While the faces in power have changed, the underlying system--those unspoken rules about who gets ahead and who gets sidelined--has remained frustratingly the same. Today, leadership still flows through narrow tribal channels instead of being accessible to anyone who could serve with excellence.
The consequences spread far and wide. Bright, ambitious individuals turn away from public service, fully aware that the odds are stacked against them. Communities splinter along clan lines, perceiving politics as a zero-sum game where one group must either dominate or be dominated. Meanwhile, the region's potential slowly fades away, its people divided, its institutions weakened, and its future tied to tribal politics.
Breaking this cycle takes real courage. It means understanding that public office isn’t a birthright but a sacred trust that must be earned through vision and service. It involves creating institutions that are robust enough to resist the lure of tribal favoritism. Most importantly, it calls for leaders who view the Somali Region not as a battleground of competing clans but as a shared homeland where every citizen has an equal chance to contribute.
The stakes are incredibly high. If we continue down this current path, clannism will devour the region's future, leaving behind only deeper divisions and lost potential. But if we choose a different route, the Somali Region could become a shining example of how diverse societies can flourish when they rise above tribal politics.
History will judge us harshly if we let this moment slip by. Yet for those who can envision a future beyond clan divisions and have the courage to pursue that vision, an alternative future is still within reach, one where leadership is defined not by lineage but by what one builds, heals, and unites. The tools to create that future are already at our disposal. The real question is whether we have the will to use them.
Jigjiga Mirror