(WDM Edition — No Mercy, No Makeup, No Illusions)
Cue the drums. Light the torches. Release the clowns.
The great Somali political circus is back in town for the 2026 election season — and like every cheap, recycled travelling show, the script hasn’t changed since Siyad Barre rode this horse into the ground. The faces age, the slogans mutate, the logos get rebranded, but the disease remains fatal and untreated: Somalia’s political class isn’t trying to save the nation — only to seize the keys to Villa Somalia and loot whatever organs are still functioning.
Let the masquerade begin.
Act I: The Pretenders Take the Stage
On one side is DamulJadiid, the only faction in Somalia that actually knows how to organize, manipulate, and execute a long game. They are the engine behind a leader whose shadow dreams of a third term are becoming less shadowy by the day — a political ghost haunting Somalia’s already haunted house.
Opposing them is a collection of “coalitions” so flimsy they could be blown away by a desert breeze. These groups don’t resemble political movements; they resemble counselling groups for failed candidates:
• Nabad & Nolol (N&N)
Mohamed Abdullahi Farmaajo has returned to Banadir like a man testing bathwater in a public toilet. Is it warm enough? Are the loyalties for sale? Are old allies still alive — or alive enough to bribe?
• Golaha Samatabixinta — “The Salvation Council”
Because nothing screams “We have no plan” like slapping the word “salvation” on a group of career politicians who couldn’t save a houseplant.
• Golaha Mustaqbalka — “The Future Council”
A name vague enough to be a telecom company or a pyramid scheme. Their only shared “future” is each one imagining himself sitting on the presidential throne while the others serve tea.
These aren’t alliances — they’re holding pens for presidential candidates, ego camps disguised as political coalitions, and tributes to the old “S-fronts” of the 1980s: Same actors, same delusions, same tragic comedy.
Act II: The Courtship — Romance, Lies, and Diaspora Airbnbs
Brace yourselves for a parade of useless “unity meetings” hosted in Nairobi villas, Doha lounges, Ankara hotels, and Dubai’s most forgettable conference rooms.
Watch sworn enemies grin and clutch hands for the camera, each eyeing the other like a hyena deciding which limb to amputate first.
Press releases will thunder about:
“Historic agreements”
“A new dawn for Somalia”
“Unified vision”
Meanwhile, every signatory will be secretly on WhatsApp with his foreign financiers whispering:
“Don’t worry, I’m still running. These other fools are just temporary luggage.”
Act III: The Auction — Somalia Goes to the Highest Bidder
This is when the real entertainment begins.
MPs-to-be — Somalia’s infamous “electoral college” — transform overnight into political livestock whose market price skyrockets by the hour. Suitcases shuffle through airports. Dollar-shaped halos form above candidate heads. Ministries are promised like bags of sugar.
Ideas? Zero.
Policy? Non-existent.
Reform? Stop dreaming.
This is a nationwide auction where loyalty is sold by the kilo, and every candidate believes he’s the master bidder — not realizing he’s also for sale.
Act IV: The Betrayal — Somalia’s National Sport
Then comes the inevitable crescendo.
A prominent N&N figure will “find religion” and defect to DamulJadiid “for the sake of national unity.”
A member of the “Future Council” will suddenly rediscover the past — specifically whichever past alliance pays better.
The “Salvation Council” will split into more pieces than Mogadishu’s roads.
The so-called opposition will collapse into its natural state:
a stampede of self-propelled egos racing toward individual deals with whoever offers a ministry, a motorcade, and a microphone.
Meanwhile, in the Real Somalia…
While the elites binge on political seduction and betrayal:
Al-Shabaab continues to tax, slaughter, and administer justice.
Droughts tighten the noose.
Displaced families rot in tent cities.
The economy limps along like a wounded camel.
Youth flee — by sea, by plane, or by coffin.
But none of this matters in the Masquerade. Somalia’s suffering is merely a prop in campaign speeches — a decorative tragedy wheeled onstage when convenient, shoved offstage when the applause fades.
The Final Tragedy
The real catastrophe is not that this grotesque performance happens.
It is that Somalis have learned to expect it.
This is not a political process — it is a metronome of dysfunction, a perpetual farce replayed with religious precision every election cycle.
The actors are the same.
The excuses are the same.
The delusions are the same.
The ending is the same.
And the losers — without exception — are the Somali people.
So grab your popcorn.
The Great Somali Masquerade is underway again.
Place your bets.
The clowns are ready.
The stage is collapsing.
And the audience — long-suffering, long-ignored — is left praying the circus burns itself down before the country does.
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