POLICY BRIEF:  Puntland at the Constitutional Crossroads

Federalism, Confederation, and the Risks of Somalia’s Centralizing Drift
By Ismail H. Warsame, MSc, PhD Candidate
Warsame Digital Media (WDM)

Executive Summary

Puntland’s constitutional relationship with Somalia has entered a critical phase.

The debate is no longer confined to whether Puntland should remain within a federal Somalia. Three possible futures are increasingly visible: renewed and enforceable federalism, a looser confederal arrangement, or eventual separation if the federal compact becomes permanently incapable of protecting constituent-state autonomy.

Puntland was not established in 1998 as a conventional separatist project. Its political architecture anticipated participation in a reconstructed Somali state based upon federalism. The present estrangement therefore reflects accumulated distrust rather than an original rejection of Somali unity.

That distrust has been reinforced by repeated centre–state confrontations involving not only Puntland but also Jubaland and South West State. These include Puntland’s break with Mogadishu in 2013; the South West election and Mukhtar Robow crisis in 2018; federal military deployment in Gedo during the Jubaland dispute; the 2024 constitutional rupture; Jubaland’s 2024 electoral crisis and armed confrontation at Ras Kamboni; Puntland’s largely self-directed Calmiskaad campaign against Islamic State; South West State’s 2026 rupture with Mogadishu and subsequent federal military intervention in Baidoa; allegations concerning the withholding or redirection of Puntland development funds; and the August 2026 Galkayo confrontation.

The situation has been further complicated by controversy over the March 2026 constitutional amendments, which Reuters reported could extend the presidential term from four to five years and delay elections. The precise application to the incumbent remains contested, but the issue raises a wider legitimacy problem: incumbent institutions appear to have participated in changing constitutional rules that may prolong their own tenure.

The Federal Government nevertheless has legitimate counterarguments. Somalia is one internationally recognized sovereign state. Foreign affairs, national defence, citizenship and immigration, and monetary policy are constitutionally federal responsibilities. Mogadishu must also manage international debt, donor accountability, national security coordination, and constitutional reform. Puntland cannot invoke federalism selectively while disregarding genuine federal powers.

The central policy challenge is therefore not to choose between a powerless centre and an all-powerful one.

Somalia requires a functionally strong but constitutionally limited Federal Government, matched by meaningful and protected Federal Member State autonomy.

Without such a settlement, the political logic is likely to move progressively from federalism toward confederation and, eventually, separation.


The Policy Problem

Somalia has never fully resolved whether its federation is a negotiated partnership among constitutionally protected constituent states or a centrally led state in which regional governments exercise delegated authority.

The 2012 Provisional Constitution attempted to bridge this contradiction.

Article 54 reserves foreign affairs, national defence, citizenship and immigration, and monetary policy to the Federal Government, while requiring the remaining allocation of powers and resources to be negotiated and agreed upon between the centre and the Federal Member States.[1]

Article 53 further requires federal consultation with Member States in major international negotiations affecting their interests.[2]

The constitutional principle is therefore clear:

Somalia is neither a unitary state with decentralized provinces nor a confederation of sovereign republics.

Its stability depends upon maintaining the middle ground.

That middle ground is weakening.


Why Puntland Matters

Puntland predates Somalia’s current federal architecture.

It established functioning political and security institutions in 1998 while Somalia still lacked an effective national government. Its founding project was based on regional self-government combined with participation in a future federal Somalia.[3]

Puntland therefore does not view its autonomy as a privilege granted by Mogadishu.

It regards it as part of the constitutional bargain upon which national reconstruction was built.

This historical understanding helps explain why Puntland reacts strongly when federal authorities appear to expand powers that Garowe believes were never constitutionally transferred to the centre.


Evidence of a Wider Federal Crisis

The problem extends beyond Puntland.

South West State, 2018

The arrest of Mukhtar Robow during the South West presidential contest and the lethal unrest that followed created a lasting perception that federal power could influence regional electoral outcomes. Human Rights Watch, citing UN findings, reported that at least fifteen protesters were killed following Robow’s arrest.[4]

Jubaland and Gedo

The dispute over Ahmed Mohamed Islam Madobe’s 2019 reelection developed into a confrontation over Gedo involving federal troop deployments. International Crisis Group later described the federal approach as overreach and linked troop withdrawal to efforts to restore political confidence.[5]

Puntland, 2024

After Parliament approved major constitutional amendments in March 2024, Puntland announced that it would no longer recognize federal institutions until an agreed constitutional settlement was restored.[6]

Jubaland and Ras Kamboni, 2024

The dispute over Jubaland’s 2024 election escalated into competing claims of legitimacy and armed confrontation. Later analysis attributed the immediate opening attack at Ras Kamboni to Jubaland forces, illustrating that federal-state conflict cannot credibly be reduced to a simple narrative of one-sided aggression.[7]

South West State, 2026

South West severed relations with the Federal Government in March 2026. Less than two weeks later, federal troops entered Baidoa and the regional president resigned.[8]

Taken together, these incidents indicate a recurring structural problem rather than a uniquely Puntland grievance.


The Calmiskaad Test

Puntland’s campaign against Islamic State in the Calmiskaad mountains has become an important test of the federal compact.

Reuters reported in February 2025 that Puntland forces had recaptured approximately 250 square kilometres and fifty ISIS positions.[9]

Puntland Information Minister Mohammed Aided stated that there was no operational coordination with the Federal Government and appealed for additional international support.[10]

The Federal Government rejected the implication that it was disengaged. Federal Information Minister Daud Aweis said Mogadishu maintained security engagement with Puntland and emphasized the need for a unified national counterterrorism strategy.[11]

The competing claims expose the core problem.

Puntland argues:

It was forced to act independently because the centre failed to provide meaningful operational support.

Mogadishu argues:

Independent regional military structures themselves prevent coherent national security coordination.

Both arguments point toward the same policy conclusion:

Somalia urgently needs an agreed federal security architecture.


The Galkayo Warning

The August 2026 confrontation in Galkayo added another layer of mistrust.

Puntland forces seized a camp held by federally aligned forces following fighting in the divided city. Puntland accused Mogadishu of supporting armed formations intended to destabilize Puntland.

Public reporting confirms the fighting and the existence of federal-aligned forces, but the precise intent attributed to Mogadishu remains contested.

This distinction matters.

A policy analysis should not present allegation as established fact.

But the episode still exposes a serious institutional weakness.

Where federal-aligned armed formations operate inside a Federal Member State during an acute political dispute, their legal mandate, chain of command, financing, and mission should be transparent.

Without such clarity, legitimate federal security activity becomes politically indistinguishable from intervention.


Development Finance and Fiscal Distrust

Puntland has repeatedly alleged that international development funds intended for the State have been delayed, withheld, or redirected because of political disagreement with Mogadishu.

Independent U4 research records repeated allegations of politically motivated diversion or withholding of aid involving Puntland, while also cautioning that available evidence does not conclusively establish every claim.[12]

The Federal Government has a legitimate counter-case.

International finance is often provided to the Federal Republic of Somalia, and Mogadishu bears fiduciary responsibilities involving auditing, procurement, donor compliance, debt sustainability, and financial reporting.

Federal records also show substantial transfers to Federal Member States generally.[13]

The policy problem is therefore not simply whether Mogadishu should have a role.

It should.

The problem is whether the system is sufficiently rule-based to prevent both actual political discrimination and persistent suspicion of political discrimination.


The Mandate Controversy

The March 2026 constitutional amendments further complicated the crisis.

Reuters reported that the changes could extend the presidential term from four to five years and delay elections originally expected in May 2026.[14]

The legal application to the incumbent remained contested.

This qualification is important.

The issue should not be described simplistically as an uncontested personal term extension.

But the constitutional concern is substantial.

Incumbent institutions participated in adopting rules that may prolong their own tenure.

This raises a basic democratic principle:

Political institutions should not possess unrestricted power to alter the expiry of the mandate from which their authority derives.

Mogadishu can reasonably argue that an electoral transition requires time for voter registration, electoral legislation, constituency design, political-party organization, security, and administration.

But parliamentary approval alone does not remove the conflict of interest where legislators and executives benefit directly from the new timetable.

For Puntland, the issue deepens an existing legitimacy dispute.

Garowe already rejected the constitutional process.

The same amended order is now being invoked to sustain federal authority over Member States that dispute its legitimacy.


Mogadishu’s Strongest Counter-Case

Puntland’s critique must be balanced against legitimate federal concerns.

Somalia cannot function if each Federal Member State independently determines national foreign policy, military relationships, citizenship, currency, and external diplomatic relations.

Article 54 expressly assigns several of these areas to Mogadishu.

The Federal Government is also correct that:

  • national forces must possess real operational capacity;
  • international creditors require one sovereign counterpart;
  • foreign governments should not be able to construct competing state-level diplomatic systems inside Somalia;
  • Puntland cannot possess an automatic veto over every constitutional reform;
  • and the federation cannot gradually become a confederation simply because individual states choose to behave as sovereign entities.

These concerns are not merely excuses for centralization.

They are genuine problems of national statehood.


Where the Federal Case Stops

Legitimate federal authority nevertheless has constitutional limits.

Foreign affairs cannot become a pretext for ignoring Article 53 consultation requirements.

National defence cannot become a universal justification for military intervention during regional political disputes.

Fiscal oversight cannot become political punishment.

Constitutional reform cannot allow the centre alone to redefine the powers of the constituent states.

Universal suffrage cannot substitute for federal agreement.

And parliamentary majorities cannot be permitted to vote federalism itself out of existence.

The challenge is therefore to distinguish federal capacity from federal domination.


Strategic Options for Puntland

Puntland now faces three broad constitutional paths.

1. Reconstructed Federalism

This remains the least disruptive and potentially most viable option.

It would require:

clear allocation of powers;

rule-based fiscal federalism;

constitutional protection of state autonomy;

agreed security arrangements;

limits on unilateral federal troop deployments;

transparent resource-sharing;

and an independent constitutional mechanism capable of binding both Mogadishu and Federal Member States.

2. Confederation

If trust in conventional federalism has deteriorated beyond repair, a confederal arrangement could preserve Somali political unity while shifting more authority to constituent states.

Common institutions could retain narrowly agreed functions such as:

external defence;

currency;

citizenship;

selected foreign affairs;

interstate commerce;

international debt;

and maritime coordination.

Most domestic authority would remain with the states.

3. Separation

Separation remains the most consequential option and should not be romanticized.

It would raise difficult questions involving:

international recognition;

citizenship;

borders;

public debt;

currency;

trade;

security;

airspace;

maritime jurisdiction;

and succession to federal assets and obligations.

But its political appeal will grow if both genuine federalism and confederal accommodation are foreclosed.


Policy Recommendations

1. Establish a Binding Federal Dispute Mechanism

Somalia urgently requires an independent constitutional court or equivalent institution capable of adjudicating centre–state disputes.

Neither Puntland nor Mogadishu should be judge in its own cause.

2. Negotiate a Federal Security Compact

The Federal Government and Member States should agree rules governing:

federal troop deployment;

state consultation;

regional forces;

joint command;

counterterrorism operations;

weapons transfers;

and political neutrality of security institutions.

3. Insulate Development Finance from Political Conflict

Federal-state transfers should be formula-based, transparent, audited, and technically conditioned.

Citizens should not lose development projects because political relations collapse.

4. Establish Special Amendment Rules for Federal Questions

Constitutional provisions affecting Member State powers should require a higher threshold than an ordinary parliamentary majority.

The system must balance national decision-making with meaningful constituent-state consent.

5. Resolve the Mandate Controversy Transparently

Federal authorities should provide a clear, authoritative, and independently reviewable legal explanation of:

the current presidential term;

the applicability of the March 2026 amendments to the incumbent;

the precise election timetable;

and the transitional legal basis for any continuation beyond the original four-year cycle.

Ambiguity over the expiry of national political authority is itself constitutionally destabilizing.

6. Create a Puntland Constitutional Futures Commission

Puntland should establish an independent commission to examine federalism, confederation, and separation.

Its purpose should be analysis, not predetermined advocacy.

7. Strengthen Puntland’s Own Constitutional Governance

Puntland’s case for autonomy will remain strongest when it demonstrates rule of law, judicial independence, accountable security institutions, transparent finance, political pluralism, and effective local government.

Autonomy must produce better governance, not simply more localized power.


Historical Warning: Ethiopia and Eritrea

The Ethiopia–Eritrea federation of 1952–1962 offers a limited but relevant institutional warning.

UN General Assembly Resolution 390(V) established Eritrea as an autonomous unit federated with Ethiopia.[15]

Over the following decade, Eritrean autonomy was progressively weakened, and Ethiopia dissolved the federation in 1962.

The legal and historical circumstances differ profoundly from Puntland.

The lesson is not that Puntland is destined to follow Eritrea.

The lesson is institutional:

When a political union depends upon protected autonomy, dismantling that autonomy can radicalize rather than extinguish demands for self-government.

The centre may centralize in order to prevent fragmentation.

The periphery interprets centralization as proof that autonomy cannot be trusted.

Federalists become confederalists.

Confederalists may become separatists.

That is the danger Somalia should avoid.


Conclusion

Puntland’s constitutional debate now reflects five interconnected crises:

federal authority, constitutional amendment, security relations, fiscal federalism, and democratic mandate.

Mogadishu possesses legitimate national powers.

Puntland possesses legitimate constitutional autonomy.

The failure lies in Somalia’s inability to establish trusted institutions defining the boundary between them.

The policy objective should therefore not be victory for Garowe over Mogadishu or Mogadishu over Garowe.

It should be a federal settlement in which neither can constitutionally dominate the other.

The central proposition is simple:

Somalia requires a real Federal Government—and real Federal Member States.

If genuine federalism is restored, Puntland has powerful reasons to remain committed to Somali unity.

If federalism becomes merely nominal, confederation becomes rational.

If both federalism and confederal accommodation fail, separation will inevitably become more politically attractive.

The greatest danger to Somali unity may therefore not come from those demanding autonomy.

It may come from political institutions that, in the name of strengthening the state, progressively destroy the constitutional bargain that makes the state worth belonging to.


Notes

1. Reuters, “Somali Parliament Backs Constitutional Changes That Could Extend President’s Term,” March 5, 2026.

2. Federal Republic of Somalia, Provisional Constitution of the Federal Republic of Somalia (Mogadishu, 2012), art. 54.

3. Ibid., art. 53.

4. Reuters, “Somalia’s South West State Says It Has Severed Ties with the Federal Government,” March 17, 2026.

5. Human Rights Watch, “Somalia,” World Report 2020 (New York: Human Rights Watch, 2020).

6. Reuters, “Somalia’s Puntland Refuses to Recognise Federal Government after Disputed Constitutional Changes,” March 31, 2024.

7. International Crisis Group, Electoral Showdown in Somalia: Averting Another Round of Turmoil, Africa Briefing no. 208, 2025.

8. Reuters, “Somali Army Takes Control of Strategic City, Regional Leader Resigns,” March 30, 2026.

9. Reuters, “Puntland Offensive Deals Blow to Islamic State in Somalia,” February 7, 2025.

10. Ibid.

11. Ibid.

12. U4 Anti-Corruption Resource Centre, Aid Diversion and Corruption in Somalia (Bergen: U4, 2026).

13. Federal Government of Somalia, Ministry of Finance, 2024 End Year Budget Performance Report (Mogadishu, 2025).

14. Reuters, “Somali Parliament Backs Constitutional Changes That Could Extend President’s Term,” March 5, 2026.

15. United Nations General Assembly, Resolution 390 A (V), “Eritrea,” December 2, 1950.


Selected Bibliography

Federal Government of Somalia, Ministry of Finance. 2024 End Year Budget Performance Report. Mogadishu, 2025.

Federal Republic of Somalia. Provisional Constitution of the Federal Republic of Somalia. Mogadishu, 2012.

Human Rights Watch. “Somalia.” World Report 2020. New York: Human Rights Watch, 2020.

International Crisis Group. Electoral Showdown in Somalia: Averting Another Round of Turmoil. Africa Briefing No. 208. Brussels, 2025.

Puntland Development Research Centre and Interpeace. A Bottom-Up Approach to Peace and Statebuilding: Lessons from the Somali Experience. Garowe, 2008.

Reuters. “Puntland Offensive Deals Blow to Islamic State in Somalia.” February 7, 2025.

———. “Somalia’s Puntland Refuses to Recognise Federal Government after Disputed Constitutional Changes.” March 31, 2024.

———. “Somali Parliament Backs Constitutional Changes That Could Extend President’s Term.” March 5, 2026.

———. “Somalia’s South West State Says It Has Severed Ties with the Federal Government.” March 17, 2026.

———. “Somali Army Takes Control of Strategic City, Regional Leader Resigns.” March 30, 2026.

U4 Anti-Corruption Resource Centre. Aid Diversion and Corruption in Somalia. Bergen, 2026.

United Nations General Assembly. Resolution 390 A (V), “Eritrea.” December 2, 1950.

WHO OWNS GALKAYO?

Everybody Owns the Conflict. Nobody Owns the City.


A WDM Editorial


Who owns Galkayo?

The people who permanently live there, build houses, establish businesses, educate their children, pay taxes and invest their savings there?

Or an unlimited clan constituency stretching across Mudug and into the Somali State of Ethiopia, ready to claim Galkayo whenever genealogy calls?

That question lies at the heart of the city’s troubles.

Galkayo has grown enormously. Buildings rise. Land changes hands. Vehicles crowd inadequate streets. Businesses struggle forward. Yet civic ownership has not kept pace with physical expansion.

The result is a peculiar urban tragedy: a city claimed by everybody and properly owned by nobody.

Everybody Owns the Conflict

Galkayo sits inside a much larger clan geography.

Reer Mahad, Reer Xirsi, Reer Khalaf, Reer Bicidyahan, Leelkase and many other communities have historical, pastoral, family and commercial connections extending across Mudug and into Ethiopia’s Somali Region.

There is nothing inherently wrong with this movement. It is part of the history of the region.

The problem begins when genealogy becomes a municipal title deed.

When trouble erupts, people who may ordinarily live far from Galkayo suddenly become its most energetic “stakeholders.” Telephones ring. Relatives mobilise. Elders meet. Money is collected. Armed men appear. An individual dispute becomes a subclan affair.

But when Galkayo floods, where are all these owners?

When drainage fails?

When roads deteriorate?

When garbage accumulates?

When businesses need security?

When the municipality needs revenue?

Suddenly responsibility belongs to somebody else.

Everybody owns the conflict. Nobody owns the drainage.

That is not urban citizenship.

Revenge Has Become an Urban Disease

Nothing exposes Galkayo’s predicament more clearly than recurrent clan revenge killings and the permanent tension surrounding them.

One man kills another. Instead of pursuing the alleged murderer through police and courts, responsibility travels through genealogy. An innocent person sharing the offender’s lineage may become the next target.

Then another killing follows.

Another clan mobilises.

Another reconciliation meeting is organised.

Another temporary calm is declared.

Everybody waits for the next corpse.

This is not justice. It is the privatisation of criminal law by clan.

Crime must belong to the criminal.

If Mohamed kills Ahmed, arrest Mohamed. Mohamed’s cousin did not commit the murder. Neither did his businessman uncle, his distant relative or his subclan.

Until this elementary principle becomes non-negotiable, Galkayo will remain hostage to revenge.

And permanent tension has consequences. Investors hesitate. Businesses relocate. Professionals leave. Families with alternatives move elsewhere.

Insecurity becomes an invisible tax on everybody who remains.

One City, Two Administrations

On top of everything else, Galkayo is divided.

Northern Galkayo is administered by Puntland. Southern Galkayo is administered by Galmudug. The populations of the two sides have historically been associated with rival clan constituencies.

Yet Galkayo remains one urban organism.

Floodwater does not recognise Puntland and Galmudug.

Neither does sewage.

Neither does traffic.

Neither does commerce.

Neither does crime.

The city is geographically one, economically intertwined and socially connected, but administratively divided.

That makes every ordinary urban problem potentially political.

A murder can become an inter-administration problem. A land dispute can become a clan confrontation. A security incident can acquire political meaning. A criminal can cross from one jurisdiction to another inside the same city.

Two administrations may remain. But there cannot be two unrelated Galkayos.

Puntland and Galmudug must have permanent working arrangements on policing, criminal suspects, roads, drainage, land disputes, emergency services and commerce.

The city cannot continue to be administered as two neighbouring clan camps.

There Was Another Galkayo

This is perhaps the saddest part of the story.

There was a time when Galkayo represented something very different.

In the 1960s, Galkayo was a centre of learning in northeastern Somalia. Families from across the wider Majeerteen regions sent their children there to be educated.

Going to Galkayo meant opportunity.

It meant schooling.

It meant exposure to a growing urban society.

It meant preparation for a professional future.

Consider the reversal.

Parents once sent their children to Galkayo for their future. Today, too many people of Galkayo origin have moved elsewhere to secure theirs.

Professionals have left.

Prominent personalities have left.

Established families have relocated.

Businesses increasingly look elsewhere when deciding where to put their capital.

Garowe and other urban centres have absorbed people, investment and professional talent that Galkayo should have retained.

That should worry every clan claiming ownership of the city.

A city does not decline only when its buildings collapse.

A city declines when its best people leave.

When a doctor leaves, Galkayo loses skills.

When a teacher leaves, it loses knowledge.

When an entrepreneur relocates, it loses jobs and capital.

When prominent families decide that another city offers greater security and predictability, Galkayo loses something even harder to replace: confidence.

And there lies the bitter contradiction.

A clan may claim Galkayo forever while its professionals abandon it.

A subclan may fight over territory while its businessmen move their money elsewhere.

Politicians may endlessly invoke deegaan while the people capable of developing that deegaan establish their futures somewhere safer.

That is possession without responsibility.

A City Is Not a Deegaan

Galkayo’s underlying problem is the collision between two different ideas of ownership.

Pastoral society was organised around mobility, water, pasture, kinship and territorial access. It was remarkably adapted to its environment.

But a city operates differently.

A camel can move when water disappears.

A hospital cannot.

A pastoral family can relocate with livestock.

A hotel cannot.

A herd can cross the Ethiopian border.

A drainage system cannot.

A businessman cannot put his warehouse on a camel whenever two subclans exchange gunfire.

Urban life requires permanence.

Permanence creates responsibility.

The family that has built a permanent house has something to protect.

The businessman who has invested his savings has something to protect.

The professional raising children there has something to protect.

The property owner needs functioning roads, policing, drainage, electricity and courts tomorrow, next year and twenty years from now.

That resident has a different relationship with Galkayo from somebody whose interest in the city becomes activated mainly when genealogy calls.

Resident Ownership Must Replace Genealogical Ownership

This does not mean excluding surrounding communities.

Galkayo should remain the commercial centre of a vast hinterland. People from Mudug, neighbouring regions and across the Ethiopian border should trade there, invest there, study there, seek medical treatment there and participate fully in its economy.

But access is not ownership.

Genealogy is not municipal citizenship.

No clan—Reer Mahad, Reer Xirsi, Reer Khalaf, Reer Bicidyahan, Leelkase or anybody else—holds an ancestral title deed to a modern city.

The same principle must apply equally to everyone.

The permanent resident must come first.

Not because of clan.

Because he lives there.

Because she invests there.

Because their children grow up there.

Because they pay the price when Galkayo burns.

Galkayo Must Decide

Concrete buildings alone will not transform Galkayo into a modern city.

Urbanisation requires law.

It requires courts.

It requires professional policing.

It requires disarmament.

It requires municipal taxation.

It requires drainage, sanitation, roads and urban planning.

It requires Puntland and Galmudug to cooperate where the interests of the city demand it.

Above all, it requires a new understanding of ownership.

The clan hinterland cannot periodically take political possession of Galkayo whenever blood is spilled and disappear when the drainage bill arrives.

Permanent residents cannot continue financing a city whose peace can be commandeered by people with little permanent stake in its future.

The test of Galkayo’s recovery is therefore simple.

Are professionals returning?

Are prominent families choosing Galkayo again?

Are businesses bringing capital into the city instead of moving it out?

Are parents confident enough to send their children there for education?

Do young graduates see their future in Galkayo?

The Galkayo of the 1960s attracted young minds from across northeastern Somalia. Today’s Galkayo has universities, hospitals, telecommunications, an airport, diaspora capital and commercial opportunities that generation could scarcely have imagined.

It should be flourishing.

Instead, the city risks becoming physically bigger while losing the very people needed to make it better.

Galkayo must choose.

It can remain a collection of clan territories with concrete buildings.

Or it can become a city.

Everybody cannot own Galkayo when there is a fight and disappear when there is a bill.

The people who stay, build, invest, work, educate their children and accept the same law must become the real civic owners of Galkayo.

The city does not merely need to stop killing its people.

It must stop driving them away.

Division Invites External Threats


Galkayo’s endless subclan rivalry carries another dangerous price: it leaves the city vulnerable to external enemies. Extremists and outside militias prosper where local communities are divided, security forces are distracted and clan grievances can be exploited. Galkayo has experienced this repeatedly—external militia incursions and occupation, terrorist violence and targeted killings that robbed the city of some of its finest professionals and public figures.


The lesson is written in blood.

A city fighting itself cannot effectively defend itself. Revenge killings and subclan rivalry weaken Galkayo from within and leave the door open to forces with far greater designs upon it. Internal peace, therefore, is not merely desirable; it is Galkayo’s first line of defence.