“Nin Daad Qaaday Xumbo Cuskay“

WARSAME DIGITAL MEDIA (WDM) SATIRE

Once again, the old ghosts of Somali politics have found a new address — not in Mogadishu, not in Garowe, but in Arta, Djibouti — the new diplomatic rehabilitation center for washed-up politicians and political has-beens. A photo circulating from what looks like a presidential luxury living room captures it all: a dozen “former” Somali politicians seated on golden couches, waiting for political resurrection courtesy of His Excellency, President Ismail Omar Guelleh — the forever ruler of Djibouti and now the unofficial landlord of Exile Villa Somalia.

A Stage for the Politically Undead
What couldn’t be organized in Mogadishu — a city where even microphones tremble before explosions — is now being staged under Guelleh’s chandeliers. Hassan Sheikh Mohamud, the tireless salesman of recycled politics, has found in Guelleh a willing host to parade Somalia’s broken past. These gentlemen — yes, gentlemen of expired mandates and manufactured relevance — have gathered not to save Somalia, but to remind us why it keeps sinking. Their agenda? A mystery. Their mission? Survival. Their motto? “We were there before, and we can be there again — even if only in a hotel lobby abroad.”

Arta as Political Refugee Camp
This isn’t the first time Djibouti has played the role of “guardian angel” of Somalia’s misfortunes. Back in 2000, Guelleh hosted the Arta Conference — a grand theater that birthed the TNG, a government that never governed and a legacy that never ended. Now, 25 years later, the same stage is being dusted off. But this time, it’s not about reconciliation — it’s about relevance. It’s about Hassan Sheikh Mohamud finding a friendly hall to speak to his own people because he can’t gather them in his own capital.

Let’s call it what it is: a political séance. Hassan Sheikh Mohamud and Ismail Omar Guelleh are trying to summon the spirit of Arta’s past — hoping that nostalgia might mask the stench of failure.

Guelleh’s Distraction, Mohamud’s Desperation
For Guelleh, this political circus is a distraction from his own internal crisis — a constitutional coup that made him president-for-life in all but name. For Hassan Sheikh Mohamud, it’s an escape from the growing realization that his government’s “vision” has collapsed into chaos. Together, they form a duet of desperation — one trying to extend a dynasty, the other trying to extend a mandate.

And those sitting quietly on the couches, hands folded like schoolboys in detention? They are the supporting cast — men who’ve presided over Somalia’s decline in every decade since 1991, now reassembled for one last group photograph in the Guelleh Museum of Political Taxidermy.

A Show Without a Nation
Arta’s air-conditioning may be cooler than Mogadishu’s heat, but the political atmosphere remains suffocating. Somalia’s people are not invited. Its suffering is not discussed. Its sovereignty is not respected. Instead, the discussion revolves around how to polish the same failed faces for one more season of political entertainment.

Call it “Villa Somalia in Exile” — where yesterday’s leaders rehearse tomorrow’s delusions under the warm patronage of Djibouti’s eternal ruler.

WDM Verdict:
If history repeats itself first as tragedy and then as farce, Arta 2025 has achieved the double. Somalia doesn’t need another conference — it needs an exorcism.

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WARSAME DIGITAL MEDIA (WDM) EDITORIAL

The much-hyped Arta Conference 25th Anniversary was supposed to be a moment of nostalgia and national revival — a political pilgrimage to the birthplace of Somalia’s so-called “reconciliation.” Instead, it ended as an expensive, hollow pageant — a Djiboutian fireworks show with no audience, no substance, and no soul.

What was billed as a “commemorative summit of unity” turned out to be a stage-managed farce. President Ismail Omar Guelleh, desperate to divert attention from his own constitutional coup in Djibouti, invited a cast of recycled politicians, rent-a-elders, and self-proclaimed visionaries to a hotel ballroom in Arta. Cameras rolled, microphones buzzed, and speeches echoed through empty applause. The outcome? Nothing but political confetti scattered across the Horn.

Guelleh’s Distraction and Mohamud’s Desperation

Let’s call it what it was: a double act of political desperation.
Guelleh needed a distraction — a smokescreen to cloud his latest maneuver to make himself president-for-life. Hassan Sheikh Mohamud, on the other hand, needed a stage — any stage — where he could pretend to address “the Somali people” without facing the reality that he can’t gather them in Mogadishu, Beledweyne, Baidoa, or Garowe.

So Guelleh handed Mohamud the microphone — literally.
In that single gesture, Djibouti’s veteran strongman became the voice-giver to Somalia’s struggling federal leader. If irony could blush, this would be its moment. How can a president who cannot summon his citizens on Somali soil travel to a foreign land to be heard through another leader’s amplifier?

The Erasure of TFG History

In the haze of pomp and protocol, another quiet theft took place: the erasure of history.
The Transitional Federal Government (TFG) — led by the late President Abdullahi Yusuf Ahmed — was the real product of Somali reconciliation, born from the sweat and sacrifice of countless patriots at the Mbagathi Conference. But Arta’s revisionists, desperate to rewrite the script, attempted to rebrand the TFG’s legacy as a Djiboutian success story. It’s like a plagiarist celebrating someone else’s thesis at a graduation ceremony.

For those who lived the history, the insult is unbearable.
The TFG was forged through Somali willpower, not Djiboutian choreography. To pretend otherwise is to spit on the memory of the men and women who risked their lives for national restoration.

A Political Stunt Gone Wrong

The masterminds behind this spectacle promised Guelleh that hosting Mohamud’s show would elevate Djibouti’s regional prestige — a “new Arta moment.” Instead, it collapsed under its own self-importance.
No major Somali political faction endorsed it. Puntland ignored it. Jubaland shrugged off. Even the Mogadishu streets yawned. What was meant to be a grand political resurrection became a ghost event — a conference that died before it began.

The symbolism couldn’t be sharper:
A president who can’t govern his capital,
a host clinging to a throne beyond its expiry date,
and a people too weary to applaud another act of elite theatre.

The Verdict: Backfire of the Century

The “Arta@25” spectacle didn’t just fail — it backfired spectacularly.
Instead of projecting power, it exposed weakness. Instead of rewriting Somali history, it reminded everyone who really wrote it. Instead of uniting the Somali people, it proved once again that legitimacy cannot be borrowed — not from Guelleh, not from Arta, not from history’s dustbin.

The lights have dimmed, the guests have departed, and the bill is yet to be paid.
Arta’s 25th anniversary was not a celebration — it was a confession.

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Tel/WhatsApp: +252 90 703 4081.