A WDM Editorial

There is an old Mudugh expression fit for moments when yesterday has become too embarrassing to defend: “Let us be reborn again.”

It is not an invitation to erase history. It means forgiving past wrongdoing, burying old quarrels, abandoning failed habits and starting afresh from today.

Mudugh badly needs such a rebirth.

Suddenly, almost everything appears to be restarting. Roads. Sanitation. Galkayo airport. Gara’ad Port and its supporting infrastructure. Security. Public safety. Government administration. Projects that should have been ordinary functions of government are being rediscovered with the excitement of archaeological findings.

Welcome back, government.

The full force of the Puntland State administration has descended on Galkayo, headed by President Said Abdullahi Deni. Ministers, officials, commanders, Mudugh representatives and assorted political ornaments are appearing everywhere. Meetings are being held. Instructions are being issued. Roads are being inspected. Security is being discussed. Cameras are clicking.

One could almost believe that Mudugh had just been discovered on the map.

Mudugh Representatives Discover Mudugh

The more uncomfortable spectacle, however, belongs to Mudugh’s own representatives.

For years, the region has produced ministers, parliamentarians, senior officials and political personalities in impressive quantities. If political titles were development projects, Mudugh would resemble Singapore.

Unfortunately, titles do not pave roads.

They do not collect rubbish.

They do not secure neighbourhoods.

They do not stop revenge killings.

They do not modernise an airport.

They do not turn Gara’ad Port into the commercial engine it was built to become.

And they certainly do not substitute for competent representation.

Now, with the President physically present, some Mudugh representatives appear to be showing their political backsides, scrambling to demonstrate achievements that should have been visible long before the presidential convoy arrived. Their less-than-impressive competence is suddenly on public exhibition.

There is something almost comic about officials explaining Mudugh’s problems to a President after spending years occupying offices supposedly created to solve those very problems.

Who exactly were they waiting for?

But Not Everything Was Made in Galkayo

There is, however, another side of this story that cannot honestly be dumped at the feet of Mudugh officials alone.

Some development projects in Puntland have reportedly been caught in the prolonged political and constitutional dispute between Puntland and the Federal Government in Mogadishu. International development resources intended for Puntland have been alleged to have been delayed, frozen or otherwise obstructed as relations between Garowe and Mogadishu deteriorated.

If that is so, Mudugh became collateral damage in somebody else’s political war.

That raises questions neither government should be allowed to escape.

Why should a road in Mudugh become hostage to a constitutional dispute in Mogadishu? Why should sanitation in Galkayo depend upon whether politicians in Garowe and Mogadishu are speaking to each other? Why should ordinary Puntland citizens lose development opportunities because two levels of government cannot agree on federal politics?

Development funds are not political pocket money.

If international donors earmarked resources for Puntland projects, those resources were intended for citizens — not as bargaining chips for whoever happened to occupy Villa Somalia.

But Puntland must answer the other half of the question as well.

Why Was There No Negotiation?

If donor resources earmarked for Puntland were indeed frozen or withheld, what sustained diplomatic and technical effort was undertaken to have them released?

Where were the negotiations?

Where was the international campaign?

Where were the formal representations to donors?

Where was the public accounting showing which projects were affected, how much money was involved, who was withholding it and under what legal or administrative authority?

Political disagreement with Mogadishu does not relieve Puntland of the responsibility to fight for every dollar legitimately intended for its people.

Garowe could maintain its constitutional position against the Mogadishu administration while simultaneously negotiating over development finance. One does not require surrendering the other.

You can quarrel over the Constitution on Monday and negotiate the release of a road-development grant on Tuesday.

That is called government.

If Mogadishu weaponised development funding against Puntland, it should be exposed and challenged. If Puntland allowed frozen funds to remain frozen because political communication had collapsed, that too deserves scrutiny.

The citizen who drives through a pothole does not particularly care which politician won the constitutional argument.

He still drove through the pothole.

Deni Has Also Arrived — Belatedly

President Deni cannot therefore escape the satire merely because Mogadishu may carry part of the responsibility.

His presence and apparent determination to address Galkayo’s accumulated problems are welcome. The mobilisation of the Puntland Government indicates that the President understands the seriousness of the situation and appears prepared to do something about it.

That deserves recognition.

But Mudugh may reasonably ask:

Why now?

Why did roads have to deteriorate so badly before becoming urgent? Why did sanitation become a civic embarrassment? Why did insecurity, revenge killings and armed clan tensions persist before the machinery of government arrived in force? Why has the enormous economic potential surrounding Gara’ad Port not already transformed regional infrastructure planning?

Apparently, Puntland has discovered a revolutionary principle of public administration:

Problems are easier to notice after they become crises.

Still, better a late government than an absent one.

“Let Us Be Reborn Again”

Mudugh does not need another season of blame. It has enough graves, grievances, political rivalries and wasted opportunities already.

So let Mudugh invoke its own wisdom:

Let us be reborn again.

Let the Puntland Government admit what it neglected.

Let Mogadishu answer for any development resources it obstructed.

Let Puntland explain what it did to recover funds allegedly withheld.

Let international donors explain where Puntland’s earmarked allocations went.

Let Mudugh representatives admit where they failed.

Let communities abandon revenge politics.

Let businessmen invest rather than finance political quarrels.

Let elders extinguish conflicts instead of institutionalising them.

Let security forces enforce one law against everybody.

And let President Deni convert this sudden concentration of government attention into permanent institutions rather than another presidential visit followed by disappearing convoys.

Galkayo does not need cosmetic rehabilitation. Mudugh requires roads, sanitation, functioning municipal institutions, a modern airport, secure commercial corridors, effective policing and serious integration of Gara’ad Port into Puntland’s economic future.

Above all, it needs law and order.

Without security, the road leads nowhere. Without public safety, investors leave. Without competent administration, Gara’ad becomes infrastructure surrounded by missed opportunities. Without accountability, today’s grand restart becomes tomorrow’s abandoned project.

Mudugh has paid too much and waited too long.

So yes, forgive yesterday.

Let us be reborn again.

But rebirth means changing behaviour, not merely changing speeches.

President Deni appears finally to be paying attention. Mudugh’s representatives have finally been placed under the uncomfortable spotlight of their own performance. Projects are restarting. Security is receiving attention. Galkayo is again being treated as a strategic Puntland city rather than a permanently postponed problem.

Good.

Now finish the job.

And recover every development dollar belonging to Puntland while you are at it.

Because there is one particularly fitting lesson in this belated awakening:

It is never too late to realise that you were already too late.

— WDM
Commentary and Critical Analysis