Sayyid Ahmed: A Charistmatic Somali Bridge Builder in Egypt

In 1978, when I was 18, I left Somalia to join my older sister, a diplomat, in Cairo, Egypt. It was my first trip abroad, and I was both excited and ambivalent. On the one hand, I was apprehensive about an unknown future. On the other hand, I felt I was embarking on a new adventure in search of better educational opportunities.

In the year and a half I spent in Cairo as a student and a local employee of the Somali Airlines’ branch office, I met some interesting Somali individuals, both leaders and ordinary people. Cairo was a transit stop for many Somali officials heading to Europe or other parts of Africa. It was also a city in which many Somalis attended school, while others came to get their work permits on their way to the Gulf. Still others had left their families in Cairo as they went to work elsewhere, while a good number came to spend their vacations in Egypt.

Interestingly, I met one Somali elder who made a lasting impression on me—the legendary Sayyid Ahmed Sh. Musse. The loveable and brilliant leader had helped cement Egyptian relationships with Somalia. Sayyid Ahmed (1910-1980) hailed from Somaliland (Habar Yonis) and had come to Egypt in the 1930s. He was a jack of all trades. His career seesawed between being a university student, a successful businessman, who imported camels from Somaliland, and a journalist at the Somali Service of the popular “Sawt al-Arab” (Voice of the Arabs) radio program in Cairo.

 He was a charismatic and sociable character, an excellent conversationalist who had played a crucial role in the politics of Somaliland in the 1950s as an activist. For many, he was the point man of Egypt in the Somaliland British Protectorate, and he had notable influences in the fields of culture and politics. After 1960, he mentored a group of Somali diplomats stationed in Egypt about the country they were posted.

As a young adult, Sayyid Ahmed proved to be a resourceful and powerful figure to whom many looked up. The following story excerpted from his fascinating years in Egypt proved this. Former ambassador Abdullahi Adan (Congo), whom I also had the pleasure of meeting in Cairo, said in an interview that he was one of the 22 students from Somaliland who were told that they would be met by Sayyid Ahmed, the “Somaliland Representative in Egypt” once they arrived in Egypt. When the students disembarked at Port Said, to their surprise, there was no one to receive them. They took a bus and arrived in Cairo in search of Sayyid Ahmed. Apparently, Sayyid Ahmed had not been informed of the arrival of the new students.

The students struggled to find Sayyid Ahmed in such a cosmopolitan city as Cairo, and navigating the unfamiliar terrain of outdoor meat markets, street peddlers, and towering buildings became a Herculean task. The students split into groups in the crowded streets of the city shouting Sayyid Ahmed’s name. But to no avail. Some of them went to Al-Azhar University, where they inquired about Sayyid Ahmed’s whereabouts. This time they were lucky. A tall young man with Somali features approached them and introduced himself as Sayyid Ahmed. They were thunderstruck by his appearance because, in their harried calculations, they had assumed such a powerful position would be filled by a middle-aged, professional-looking man. Sayyid Ahmed, it turned out, was a slim, smiling youth attending Al-Azhar University. However, his resourcefulness did not disappoint them as he took every one of the 22 students to a tailor and got them coats and pants. “It was quite a scene,” Ambassador Abdullahi Adan said many decades later, “seeing 22 Somalis walking in the streets of Cairo wearing the same clothes.” Sayyid Ahmed then took the students to al-Mujammac, a government center located at Tahrir Square, and obtained their immigration papers.

In the 1950s, Sayyid Ahmed returned to Somaliland, where he became a relentless champion for teaching the Arabic language in the British Protectorate. He was instrumental in opening the first Islamic institute in Buro. Moreover, in 1956, he founded a political party called “Hizbu Allah” (God’s Party). According to Dr. Abdurahman M. Abdullahi (Badiyow), the author of The Islamic Movement in Somalia (2015), Sayyid Ahmed was influenced by Egypt’s Muslim Brotherhood and Nasserist ideology. He skillfully combined Islamism (a globalist religion and ideology) and nationalism (a particular ideology for a nation-state), a contradiction in terms. His Islamic activism was relatively moderate. First and foremost, he advocated the independence of Somaliland from Britain.

Sayyid Ahmed wrote three books in Arabic, which are all out of print: “Hizbu Allah wa Hizbu al-Shaydan” (The Party of God and the Party of Satan), “Al-Tharwah al-Taaci’ah fi al-Soomaal” (The Continued Loss of Wealth in Somalia) and “Khadarul al-Casabiyyah cala Soomaal” (The Danger of Zealous Clannism to Somalia).  

Sayyid Ahmed was married to an Egyptian woman who bore him several children. He also fathered children from a Somali wife. His son, Mahdi from the Egyptian mother, was quite popular among Somalis in Cairo. He was a handsome social butterfly who helped many Somalis navigate Egypt’s social and administrative landscape. Some Somalis dubbed him the “Egyptian” for adopting the local habits of “Mujamalah” (sucking or kissing up).

Sayyid Ahmed had a son, Mohamed “Cirro”, who became an accomplished Somali journalist working in Mogadishu. I met him in Cairo during one of his visits to his family, and we struck up a lasting friendship. He was smart, educated, and a capable reporter who encouraged me to pursue journalism. A nationalist who believed in Somali unity, he stayed in Mogadishu after the collapse of Siad Barre’s regime. In the early 1990s, Cirro worked as an adviser to General Mohamed Farah Aidid, and later to his son Hussein Aidid. He later became ill and was brought to Hargeisa, where he passed away several years ago.

Asmahan Sh. Musse, a niece of Sayyid Ahmed who lives in Canada, fondly remembers her uncle from long conversations she had with her father. Moreover, as a child, her uncle would bring her and her siblings sweet treats from Egypt. “My whole family was proud of his immense contribution to the Motherland,” she said. “He was simply a hero who the new generation has yet to learn about and appreciate.”

Sayyid Ahmed is best remembered as a nationalist who championed the preservation of Islamic identity and culture in Somaliland. He helped establish Islamic institutions there and was a catalyst for many Somali students to win scholarships in Egypt. He served as an informal ambassador for many Somalis long before Somalia became independent. He blended Islamism and nationalism and is credited for lending crucial support to the then-nascent pro-independence party in Somaliland, the Somali National League (SNL). He is also the first Somali student to graduate from the prestigious Al-Azhar University.

Somalis in Norway Confront Child-Rearing Culture Clash

The Somali community in Norway is at a crossroads. Norway is one of the wealthiest, safest, and most welcoming countries in the world. It is home to many immigrants who have fled poverty and lack of opportunities in their native countries. However, the country has some of the toughest child welfare services in the world; a record that has angered Norwegians and immigrants alike. Somali immigrants must learn Norwegian-approved child-rearing practices and the laws that govern them, but need a method to share that information across the community.

“We are definitely under the microscope,” a Somali community member in Norway said. “There is an intense debate now in Norway regarding the welfare of Somali children.”  

Recently, a Norwegian TV channel aired a documentary about Somali children whose parents had returned them to Somalia and who subsequently suffered violence and other abuses. These parents were doing what the Somalis call “dhaqan-celis” meaning cultural rehabilitation, or a process in which children in the West are taken to Somalia to reform and learn their culture. As a result of the furor, the Norwegian government has tasked seven departments to look into the matter and make recommendations.

There are about 42,217 Somalis in Norway, making it the second-largest non-Western community in that country. The first few Somalis came to Norway in 1970 as seamen; others arrived after the Somali civil war started in 1991. About 50 percent of the Somali population in Norway is concentrated in Oslo. Interestingly, 17,000 of the 42,217 are children. Some Somalis have adapted to life in Norway and have become integral members of Norwegian society. Interestingly, Somalia’s current Prime Minister, Hassan Kheyre, and Mohamed Osman Jawari, speaker of Somalia’s Federal Parliament, are both Norwegian nationals.

Other Somali asylum seekers and refugees have settled in Norway in the past few years and are adjusting to their new home. “Almost 70 percent of Somalis fall into the latter category,” said Mahad Abdulle of Maqal Radio at a gathering in August 2017 where members of the Somali community in Oslo met a visiting Somali official.

During that meeting, it was clear the community’s main concern was the removal of Somali children, who were being taken from their homes by Barnevernet, the Norwegian Social Service Agency.

Tough Child Welfare System

Norway has rigorous child protection laws that have confounded many international critics. Barnevernet is responsible for the protection of children in the country. It is devoted to children’s rights, and promotes their well-being more than any other nation. According to the Child Welfare Act of 1992, Barnevernet’s main purpose is to “ensure that children and youth who live in conditions that may be detrimental to their health and development receive the necessary assistance and care at the right time and to help ensure children and youth grow up in a secure environment.”

According to Statistics Norway (2016), by the end of 2015, almost 36,800 children had received some type of services from Barnevernet, including counseling, social service visits, and day care assistance. About 60 percent of those receive services at home and 16 percent outside their homes—mostly in foster care or in institutions. The 36, 800 receiving some type of services represents 2.9% of all children in Norway.

The current controversy is not over Barnevernet’s provision of child welfare services, but its removal of children from their homes.

According to published government data, children are referred to Barnevernet for the following reasons: about 29 percent of the children have parents who lack parenting skills, 17 percent of the children have parents with a mental illness, 11 percent have experienced some type of domestic conflict, and 8 percent have parents abusing drugs.

Recently, domestic critics of Barnevernet have become vocal. In 2016, a Norwegian mother and her Romanian husband lost their five children to the agency. An evangelical Christian couple, Ruth and Marius Bodnariu, were accused of administering corporal punishment to their children, a charge Ruth admitted to Barnevernet case workers. In Norway, spanking children is illegal. The Bodnariu case became a media sensation when the BBC made a documentary about it.

Corporal punishment is outlawed not only Norway, but in 42 other countries around the world.  However, Norway has raised its opposition to corporal punishment with unprecedented zeal. One Norwegian reverend took pains to refer to his country as a secular nation. “They have a new translation of the Bible that erases all the verses that talk about disciplining your children,” he said.

About 170 psychologists, social workers, and lawyers signed a petition last year condemning Barnevernet for its stringent child welfare rules and the excuses it uses to remove children from their homes. “Children are removed from the homes on very weak evidence characterized by speculative interpretations,” the signatories to the petition wrote. “Too often, we see biological parents who do not have all the world’s resources behind them, stand no chance against a big and powerful public apparatus. We see a tendency for decisions to be made based on incomplete observation basis and tendentious interpretations.” The signatories called for a reform of child welfare services and the end of policies that unfairly traumatize both children and parents.

Barnevernet officials point out that 90 percent of children receive services while at home and only 10 percent are removed from their parents. “The worst mistake is when we wait too long to take children from home,” the director of the agency said to SBS Australia.

International outcry

In 2016, Czech President Milos Zeman compared the Norwegian child welfare system to Nazi Germany’s Lebensborn, a program in which the children of unmarried mothers were given to Aryan parents.

An Indian couple had their children removed from home because they fed them with their hands. A Brazilian woman in Norway sought refuge in her country’s embassy in Oslo after Barnevernet case workers quizzed her about her daughter’s eating habits, and a former Russian government official accused Norway of kidnapping children to solve the country’s low fertility rate.

According to a BBC report, eight child welfare cases in Norway were heard in the European Court of Human Rights in 2016. A Czech member of the European Parliament said there were “human rights violations [that] have occurred and that there is something dangerous in Norway.”

Romania, Lithuania, Poland, and Sweden have protested Barnevernet’s practices, which they say are ruining families.  

Between 2005 and 2015, about 500 parents left Norway and illegally removed their children to settle elsewhere.  

Are Somali children in danger?

Saeed Amin, a Somali Norwegian who works for an Oslo municipality, has been stopped many times in the streets and asked about the “3,000 Somali children” Barnevernet had taken. The staggering number of 3,000 did not surprise him because in Somali communities rumors oftentimes outpace facts. He decided to let the evidence speak to the community.

“The good thing is Norway documents everything and publishes it,” he said at a community gathering.

What did Amin find out?

“The notion among Somalis that there are 3,000 missing Somali children is baseless,” Amin said.

Equipped with the latest statistics of the Norwegian government, Amin said that, in fact, only 180 Somali children have been removed from their homes. “About 680 of our children are currently getting some type of services from the system,” he added.

Cultural issues

Many Somali children are raised in a culture that sits very close to the confluence of tradition and modernity. Spanking is acceptable in Somali society; parents administer corporal punishment, as do public school teachers and instructors of the Quran. There is a different system of child rearing in Norway to which Somali parents need to adjust.  

One Somali community activist in Oslo observed a difference between how Somalis view their children and how Norwegians do. Somali parents raise their children so that when they grow up, the younger generation can help their parents, the community member said. “In Norway, parents raise their children for the betterment of society and, hence, it is not their sole responsibility.”

Community action

According to a young Somali Norwegian, there are more than 100 Somali organizations in Norway and Somalis are divided across clan lines.

Saeed Amin thinks there is one major thing the community lacks: unity.

“It is not shameful to have particular organizations, but we have to have an umbrella organization that speaks for all of us and furthers our interests,” he said at a community gathering. Being united in pursuit of a common purpose will make the community stronger and aid in the fight for its rights, he added.

The road to the future

In the end, it is what individual parents do that matters most. Sharpening parenting skills, understanding the social and educational system in Norway, and providing stability for children will help quell the Barnevernet controversy.