The Cheetah Pipeline
In late September, Somaliland's coast guard intercepted a dhow ferrying contraband off the coast of Berbera, arresting two Somali nationals and three Yemenis in the process. But rather than the usual trafficking of arms or migrants through the Gulf of Aden, their cargo was instead 11 cheetah cubs seemingly destined for the Middle East. The animals had been packed into potato sacks, with two of the endangered species dying within 24 hours of being rescued. Tragically, the rescue of these cheetahs-- now in the care of the Cheetah Conservation Fund (CCF)-- was no anomaly, but rather part of a much broader wildlife trafficking crisis.
Between 2010 and 2019, it was estimated that nearly 4,000 cheetahs or cheetah parts were passed through East African trafficking networks, with Somaliland one of the epicentres of the trade. So great has been the degradation of their habitats and poaching that just a couple of thousand are now believed to remain in the wilds of Ethiopia, northern Kenya, Somalia and Somaliland, with the International Union for Conservation of Nature listing the animal at risk of extinction. Despite some attempts within the Gulf to deter the outlawed practice, business continues to boom in the trading of the endangered species. And so, the CCF has estimated that each year, around 300 cubs are poached and smuggled to the Arabian Peninsula from the Horn-- with many of the fragile animals dying en route. Only a fraction of these smuggled cheetahs are intercepted in Somaliland, with another operation in August freeing 10 cubs as well.
Though cheetahs remain the preeminent trade, other endangered species are being routed through Somaliland as well, with over 1,100 exotic animals seized by authorities between 2015 and 2018. Most had been poached from Kenya and Ethiopia, being hauled in vegetable trucks through the mountainous Hariirad region in Awdal. And within Somaliland, dik-diks, eagles, antelopes, tortoises, and more besides have all been poached. From there, these illicit animals are often drugged and bagged, stored alongside legitimate cargo or with livestock before being moved out of the documented trafficking hubs at Lughaye, Zeyla, and Berbera. Eastern Sanaag as well remains a historic trafficking hotspot, as it does for arms and migrants-- tapped into and exploited by Al-Shabaab, Islamic State-Somalia, and increasingly the Yemen-based Houthi movement.
But notably, there is considerable variation between the nature of wildlife trafficking from Africa to Asia and to the Gulf. The extremely hierarchical ivory trade, for instance, is believed to be nearly wholly controlled by mostly Chinese and Vietnamese nationals accessing African transnational criminal syndicates, which have increasingly routed it through West Africa rather than Kenya or Tanzania. Cheetah trafficking, on the other hand, is believed to be less centralised, though these poachers similarly exist at the bottom of the food chain of smuggling and trafficking, only receiving a fraction of the many thousands of USD that these endangered species are flogged for in the Gulf. In Somaliland, there has been a distinct rise in the number of pastoralists poaching cheetahs, at times in response to the predator's killing of livestock to recoup some money as the climate crisis accentuates the frictions between humans and animals. Dwindling habitats and prolonged drought are forcing cheetahs into increasing relations with farming and pastoralist communities.
Cheetahs have long been sought after, the beauty and danger of the rare animal prized by a host of cultures. One ancient symbol of the animal on a Sumerian seal, for instance, dates from 3000 BC, with it depicted hooded and leashed. In ancient Egypt, the cheetah was believed to ferry the spirit of the pharaoh into the afterlife, and so artisans adorned sarcophagi with their images. And in the 16th century, the Indian Mogul Akbar the Great was believed to have kept over 9,000 cheetahs during his 50-year reign, though only a single litter was said to have been born in his vast menagerie. That a single litter was born from these thousands of cheetahs-- though perhaps an exaggeration-- is emblematic of another issue: cheetahs rarely breed in captivity, meaning the demand for the endangered species in the wild has remained high. And as Asian cheetah populations fell over two centuries, due to royal and colonial hunting and the expansion of farmed livestock by the early 1990s, the elite within India began to import cheetahs from the African continent.
Today, though, demand for the illegal pet trade has been predominantly driven by the Gulf, with social media supercharging interest in exotic pets as a status symbol. The explosion of petrodollar wealth in the region in the 20th century and beyond has cultivated a particular set of tastes and social mores within the Gulf, and it is not uncommon to see images of cheetah cubs being flaunted alongside luxury cars or at weddings. A breakthrough came in 2016 when the UAE outlawed private ownership of big cats, and Saudi Arabia followed in 2020, banning exotic pets and imposing heavy fines. Kuwait also tightened regulations after a high-profile conviction of a trafficker in 2018. But despite such legislation, cheetah cubs have been offered for sale on Instagram or WhatsApp groups. To some, it is perfectly emblematic of the broader perforation of Middle Eastern interests throughout the Horn of Africa, an extractive, destabilising presence.
Despite the vital work of CCF, Somaliland's absence from the state-based international order further complicates its ability to secure conservation funding. And—perhaps understandably— there remains a greater emphasis on halting the continual flow of weapons and contraband, as well as stemming piracy, across the Gulf of Aden. Urgent intervention, and more aggressive interdiction of trafficking rings and poaching is required, a complex endeavour to tackle the transnational nature of the crime and its intersection with the climate crisis, poverty and smuggling networks. And so, with hundreds of endangered species being rounded up year on year, the image of the haughty Acinonyx jubatus —one known and loved by many Somalilanders —may yet fade.
The Somali Wire 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
The worm, it seems, has finally turned. After years serving as a prop for President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud's monocratic aspirations, Abdiaziz Laftagareen, the leader of South West State, has clapped back against Villa Somalia, accusing the federal government of – among other things - dividing the country, monopolising public resources, colluding with Al-Shabaab, and leading Somalia back into state failure.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Mogadishu, Somalia’s capital, is home to an estimated four million people and supports a vibrant commercial sector. Yet behind the façade of what appears to be an up-and-coming African capital is the specter of insurgents hiding in plain sight. Although Somalia’s government has had a run of success in the fight against Al-Shabaab over the past year, Mogadishu’s security is highly questionable, as the city’s suburbs have become a safe haven and base of operations for militants. Al-Shabaab is not the only problem. The crisis is deeper. Somalia’s security institutions remain disorganized and corrupt, and Mogadishu’s robust business community is often an accomplice to Al-Shabaab funding.
Where to begin? The Middle East aflame, the Iranian Ayatollah Ali Khamenei killed by an Israeli airstrike, a slew of Gulf capitals and infrastructure under Iranian bombardment, and a war instigated by two powers with no clear end or scope. Few could say they were surprised by the coordinated Israeli-American bombardment of Iran, but the immediacy of its metastasis has been shocking, and the spillover of this war is already stretching from Cyprus down to the Strait of Hormuz. And there are almost too many unknowns to count, from the endgame logic of Washington to the vulnerability of the wounded Iranian regime to the broader reaction of the besieged Gulf.