Mustafa Omer's Presidency: How Promised Change Unraveled
Six years ago, the Somali community in Ethiopia appeared to be on the cusp of change as Mustafa Omer, a former activist, rose to the leadership of the Somali region. Seen as a beacon of hope, Mustafa inherited the position from Abdi Iley, the controversial regional president who ruled between 2010 and 2018 and whose administration became synonymous with violent repression. With impressive education credentials and a purported commitment to justice, many believed Mustafa's leadership would usher in a new era of accountability and development for the over 15 million Somalis in eastern Ethiopia. That hope has since disintegrated, however, with his term marked by leadership failures, ineffective development initiatives, and entrenched corruption.
Since its formation nearly three decades ago, the Somali region has wrestled with a fractured socio-political landscape. The Somali People's Democratic Party (SDP), operating under the centralised thumb of the former ruling Ethiopian People's Revolutionary Democratic Front (EPRDF), wielded considerable influence yet often failed to resonate with the communities it ostensibly represented. Instead of advocating for the interests of the Somali people, it was wielded as an instrument by the Tigray People's Liberation Front (TPLF)-led EPRDF to maintain control rather than nurturing genuine engagement. Leadership appointments tended to favour loyalty to military commanders stationed in Harar over genuine merit or capacity.
Amid this backdrop, Somali communities also endured successive waves of armed conflict and humanitarian crises. Insurgent armed groups, particularly the Ogaden National Liberation Front (ONLF), campaigning for self-determination and secession further complicated the region's fraught politics. Mustafa initially emerged as a consequential figure in the Somali Regional Alliance for Justice (SRAJ), a coalition of intellectuals advocating for the rights of Somali communities and against the impunity and violence that have plagued them.
The political reforms in Ethiopia in 2018 sparked a wave of optimism for democratic advancement and renewal across the country, including in the long-marginalised peripheral Somali region. The controversial ousting of Abdi Iley, a staunch TPLF loyalist who struggled to align himself with the new leader, incumbent PM Abiy Ahmed, was a moment of collective relief for many. In the aftermath, Mustafa was appointed—an activist known for his vocal opposition to the previous regional government, which had caused him immense personal distress, including the loss of his brother. Many Somalis celebrated the dawn of a new era as the SDP gave way to the ruling Prosperity Party, which initially sought to cast itself as a unifying force after the tumult of the EPRDF's final years.
However, Mustafa's appointment as president in August 2018 was not a result of a democratic process but rather a strategic manoeuvre orchestrated in Addis Ababa. And his leadership, once viewed as a hopeful transition, has become increasingly considered another attempt by another federal government to secure control of the periphery instead of nurturing democracy in the Somali region. Six years in, Mustafa's administration has become characterised by growing corruption and a gulf between the regional leadership and its people.
Mustafa's leadership style has been evident from the outset. Early on in his tenure, drawing on his experience with the United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs in Somalia, the regional president adopted the neighbouring country's 4.5 clan-based governance system. As is the case in Somalia, this structure has often prioritised cabinet positions based on clan affiliation rather than merit and accentuated clan divisions, not soothed them. While prior officials had significant flaws, their governance models often proved more effective than this clan-centric system.
Since the violent ousting of Mustafa's predecessor, some have regarded the Somali region as one of the most peaceful in Ethiopia. This is somewhat misleading-- the lack of inter-communal violence has been a consequence of local armed groups opting for non-violent avenues rather than signifying an effective administration. Moreover, there have been successive clashes along the Oromia-Somali regional border, as well as between Afar and Somali communities, particularly since the regional president withdrew from an agreement to establish three 'special kebeles' for Somali communities within Afar territory. Conversely, the threat of Al-Shabaab has intensified, culminating in the mass July 2022 offensive that led to significant losses among the Liyu forces protecting the border. Several hundred of the Al-Shabaab militants that participated penetrated deep into south-eastern Ethiopia and remained there, embedded across the Liban, Afdheer, and Bale zones as the base of Jaysh al-Habash, the militant's wing in the country. Today, these militants are quietly expanding and developing their networks, particularly in the Oromia and Somali regions.
Human rights abuses persist, although there have been fewer arbitrary arrests compared to the previous regional administration. Iley had been given essential carte blanche to rule the Somali region and protect against the penetration of Al-Shabaab, subsequently wielding the Liyu Police as a tool to crush any opposition. Today, though, journalists are facing increasing threats in the Somali region, as evidenced by the Ethiopian Media Authority's bans on 15 foreign media outlets and the arrests of dissenting local journalists. Any exposure of government corruption has been met with increasing intimidation, and reporters have been denied permission to report on the intermittent violence between Afar and Somali militias in 2024.
Nor have the promises of development and investment come to fruition, with the Somali region particularly impacted by successive punishing droughts. Underdevelopment, inadequate infrastructure, and insufficient access to essential services such as education and healthcare are the norm in the enormous territory, not the exception. And plans for economic diversification and infrastructure development have proceeded in fits and starts. For instance, while the regional government claims to have built over 500 schools in the past 6 years, this has not translated into increased educational attainment or economic empowerment for the youth.
Similarly, although claims of infrastructure improvements circulate, much of the work cited owes its genesis to funds from the previous regime or international donors rather than the current government's initiatives. Ambitious urban water supply projects intended to serve key towns remain non-operational even after substantial investment, revealing deficiencies in management. Even the expansive new parliament building complex in Jigjiga, which purportedly cost the state over ETB 1.5 billion, leaks during rain and perpetually needs repairs. There are even discussions about abandoning it entirely. A key issue with the Mustafa administration is that large-scale projects are often launched without proper assessments and cost-benefit analyses.
Renowned economist Amartya Sen once noted that famines do not occur in democracies. Mustafa's administration has failed to establish the foundations for democratic governance necessary for sustainable development amidst crises, such as the ongoing drought that has left millions in precarious conditions. Responses to pressing issues are reactive rather than proactive, often dictated by the whims of social media rather than structured policy planning.
While Abdi Iley's regime was mired in human rights abuses, Mustafa's governance has a troubling culture of corruption and impunity. His tenure has sent a chilling message to Somalis in Ethiopia-- questioning authority is perilous, and vying for state resources demands strategic compliance. In the Somali region today, officials' self-interest too often supersedes the common good. Short-term, corrupt, and self-interested leadership has become engrained to the detriment of Somali communities. Fourteen years of rule under Abdi Iley and Mustafa Omer has taken a severe toll on one of the most overlooked regions of Ethiopia. The Somali region should not be an afterthought for those in Addis, only rearing its head when jihadists infiltrate, or clashes erupt along its regional borders, nor handed to those like Iley and Mustafa to run like their personal fiefdoms. Those in the Somali region deserve better.
By the Ethiopian Cable team
Gain unlimited access to all our Editorials. Unlock Full Access to Our Expert Editorials — Trusted Insights, Unlimited Reading.
Create your Sahan account LoginUnlock lifetime access to all our Premium editorial content
Last April, General Sheegow Ahmed Ali-- once the highest-ranking military officer hailing from the Somali Bantu-- died in ignominy in a Mogadishu hospital. A senior commander who had previously spearheaded operations in south-central Somalia, Sheegow had been summarily sentenced to 10 years in prison in 2023 for operating a militia in the capital. His death-- mourned widely and protested in Mogadishu and Beledweyne-- returned the spotlight to the pernicious issues of discrimination in the Somali National Army (SNA).
The Horn of Africa's political fate has always been wired to external commercial interests, with its expansive eastern edge on the Red Sea serving as an aorta of trade for millennia. A Greek merchant's manual from the 1st century AD describes the port of Obone in modern-day Puntland as a hub of ivory, tortoiseshell, enslaved people and cinnamon destined for Egypt. Today, as so often quoted, between 12-15% of the world's seaborne trade passes along the arterial waterway, with the Suez Canal bridging Europe and Asia. But well before the globalised world or the vying Gulf and Middle Powers over the Red Sea's littoral administrations, the logic of 'gunboat diplomacy' underpinned the passage over these seas.
Once on the US-designated terrorist sanctions list, it is unsurprisingly rather difficult to come off it. And with the US designating the 'Sudanese Muslim Brotherhood' as terrorists, elements of Khartoum's military government may now have the dubious honour of being on it twice. First time out in 1993, Khartoum was deemed a US State Sponsor of Terror in the wake of a raft of jihadist plots linked to the Islamist authorities in Sudan. Nearly three decades later, and only after Sudan's partial ascension to the Abraham Accords, the title and punishing sanctions were lifted for the civilian-military transitional government. Today, though the warring Sudan is no longer home to an Osama bin Laden or Carlos the Jackal, a US labelling of 'terrorist' has returned to Khartoum.
At the collapse of the Somali state in the early 1990s, the bloated, corrupt, and clan-riven national army was nevertheless in possession of vast quantities of light weapons. Much of it sourced during Somalia's ill-fated alliance with the USSR and later Western and Arab patrons, government armouries were soon plundered by warring militias across Mogadishu, Kismaayo, Baidoa, and every garrison town as the country descended into chaos, providing the ammunition for the deaths of hundreds of thousands of people.
Almost exactly 130 years ago, a vast Ethiopian army led by Emperor Menelik II outmanoeuvred and overran the invading Italian army at Adwa in Tigray, bringing the first Italo-Ethiopian war to a decisive close. By midday on 1 March 1896, thousands of Italian soldiers and Eritrean 'askaris' had been killed, sparing Ethiopia from the carving up of the African continent by European colonisers.
The Greek philosopher and historian Plutarch recounts that King Pyrrhus of Epirus, after defeating the Romans at Asculum in 279 BC, lamented, "One more such victory over the Romans and we are completely done for." After almost four torturous years, the same might be said for any more supposed 'victories' for the incumbent federal government of Somalia. To nobody's surprise, the constitutional 'review' process undertaken by Somalia's federal government was never about implementing direct democracy after all. It was, as widely anticipated, a thinly veiled power grab intended to centralise political power, eviscerate Somalia's federal system, and extend the term of the incumbent president, Hassan Sheikh Mohamud (HSM). And so, at the 11th hour and with less than 70 days remaining in his term of office, HSM declared Somalia's new constitutional text 'complete' and signed it into 'law.'
On 4 March 2026, Somalia's Federal Parliament hastily ratified dozens of controversial constitutional amendments, thus finalising President Hassan Sheikh's tailor-made Constitution. Speaker Aden Madobe has now declared the new revised Constitution effective immediately. In doing so, the speaker and his government have deliberately destroyed the existing social contract agreed upon by the people of Somalia.
At the end of February, Ethiopian PM Abiy Ahmed departed on a rather unusual visit to Baku, Azerbaijan. Slated as a meeting between two emerging powers, a focus on trade and investment frameworks was particularly emphasised by Foreign Minister Gedion Timotheos. More importantly, of course, was the signing of a comprehensive defence agreement by the two countries on 27 February. Spanning drone technology, armoured vehicles, artillery shell production, and air defence, the new agreement builds upon a framework from November 2025, which also included reference to refurbishing T-72 tanks, electronic warfare, and military-industrial manufacturing. Though war has not yet returned to Tigray as many feared, Abiy's vision of a militarised domestic —and regional —posture no doubt requires more hardware.
Ramadan is known as the 'Month of Mercy', typically characterised by forgiveness and reconciliation within the Islamic world. Not so in Somalia, where Villa Somalia's ruinous push to 'finalise' the Provisional Constitution has taken another grim twist in recent days. The collapse of opposition-government talks on 22 February was inevitable, with Villa Somalia's flippancy evident in the needless arguments over venue and security personnel.