By Osman Hassan

WardheerNews has given deserved coverage to the death of Ambassador Abdullahi Said Osman (RIP) with the posting of an earlier interview it had with the deceased and the excellent contribution by my friend Ismail Ali Ismail (Geeldoon). I will therefore confine my own memories of Ambassador Abdullahi to our time at Amoud’s Secondary School in the 1950s, our subsequent scholarship to England for degree courses and our time together in Geneva where he was Somalia’s Permanent Ambassador to the UN and I an official at the United Nations Conference on Trade and Development (UNCTAD).

To convey the depth of my personal knowledge of, and feeling for Ambassador Abdullahi Said Osman, one has to first appreciate the educational environment in Somaliland in which we grew up together. Our future relationships were built on our time together at school in British Somaliland. As it was, young Abdullahi entered Amoud Secondary school in Borama in 1955, one year after me. He did his preceding intermediate schooling also at Amoud while I did mine at Scheikh Intermediate School. These were the only two intermediate schools in those days in the whole of British Somaliland.

If the depth and breadth of British education in the colony was paltry by any standard, what was worse, from a Somali perspective, was its typically British elitist approach to education that the colonial government in Somaliland adopted. This meant that each year’s entrants to either intermediate school in Sheikh or Borama (Sheikh was the first to be built in 1945) would only be one class (later expanded to two in Sheikh) among hopefuls in the thousands hailing from every elementary school in the country. For the Somalis, this was like a callous “culling” generations of our aspirant children for education. Those who did not make it to the intermediate level of education in either Sheikh or Borama were simply thrown out to their own unknown destiny, an inhumane waste of potential human capital.

Just like the intermediate schools, it was the same story with the secondary school at Amoud, the only one in the country during our time (the Sheikh Secondary School was built just after our scholarship to England in 1959). Only over a dozen would be granted acceptance to Amoud Secondary school from those who successfully completed their Intermediate education at Sheikh and Amoud (my own class was only 12 students). With such restricted admission, the whole secondary student population at Amoud, representing four forms, could not have been more than one hundred for the whole country. Amoud Secondary School then was the crown jewel of Somaliland’s heritage from British colonial rule lasting nearly 80 years – much to be thankful for as the British may say.

The other striking feature of Amoud Secondary School was that it was a boarding institution built far out into the bush, miles and miles away from Borama town. Students were allowed to go to town only on Friday. But with no transport, walking this distance, go and back, was a disincentive to any pleasure one might get from having a change from our dreary routine school environment. In a way, Amoud was like an open prison. Apart from going to classes, studying in the evening, or doing our homework, we had to otherwise turn our energies and spare times to sports and socialising among ourselves. Forced together, day in day out, we got to know each other very well, perhaps more than we knew our own families, whom we saw only during brief school holidays.

This is the environment in which young Abdullahi Said Osman grew up. Like most other students, he was given the nickname “Haraawi”, though I forgot what it signified. He was not alone in having a nickname and others had their own ones: Ahmed Mohamed Mohamoud, one year ahead of me, had his “Siilaanyo” nickname, which he got from our days at Sheikh’s Elementary boarding school. It was given to describe his thinness at the time. Now better fed since then and outsized, “Siilaanyo” sounds a misnomer. Suleiman Mohamoud Aden, a classmate (but not the same age!!) was called Suleiman “Waash”, after a ferocious fearful character in Shakespeare’s Macbeth, perhaps because of his fierce unfriendly look. Come to think of it, I can never remember Suleiman ever smiling let alone laughing. Later in Mogadishu, he came to be called Suleiman “Gaal”, given to him by southerners because of his uncompromising stand not to bend the school rules and do favours in line with accepted inherited Italian ways. For my part, I had my own unmentionable nickname from the day I entered Sheikh elementary boarding school – a little “geeljire” boy coming from the Haud – though when pressed I reluctantly admit to my” Badawi” nickname. As the Somalis say, “Magac bilaash u ma boxo” (Nicknames are given for a reason).

Apart from sports which was not his cup of tea, young Abdullahi stood out, head and shoulder, above his classmates. He was distinguishable physically as the tallest boy in his class and academically as the brightest – always top of the class. Looking back, one could see he was marked for a lawyer and a great future diplomat as indeed he turned out to be. He would often engage colleagues on any subject he chose and, more often than not, get his way with his persuasive powerful articulation and infectious smile and laughter. It was for these qualities that he was elected as the president of the School’s debating society. Dedicated to his function, he would organise weekly debates on selected topics, often himself the sponsor of the motion, and winning the debate with his impressive debating skills.

Abdullahi also filled another key extracurricular function for the school. Coming from a religious family, and himself well conversant with the Quran and Islam, he would organise the monthly Mowluud functions, a popular event with the students, not so much because they were particularly religious but for the entertainment and the welcome distraction it provided from the tedious rigours of daily class life. His powerful heartfelt voice would reverberate as it travelled through the still evening air in the bush and attract the attention of unwelcome gatecrashers from the nearby Amoud Intermediate School, lured more than anything else by the biscuits to be distributed, a luxury at Amoud in those days.

As children, and later adolescents, who grew up in the boarding schools in Sheikh and Amoud, we were insulated by and large from clan prejudice. But Abdullahi was in a way unique as one who did not relate to any particular clan in the colony. Born in Berbera, though hailing from Jigjiga clan-wise, he grew up from childhood free from any attachment to any particular clan, which meant he had to socialise with any one in the school (or outside it ) irrespective of their clan or regional origin. Friendly and cheerful, everyone would automatically warm up to him. For him, all at school were his comrades and no barrier of any sort existed between them. It is a quality he maintained throughout his life, humbly and caringly. I can never remember Abdullahi angry at anyone, or for that matter anyone angry at him. It is a mark of his amicable qualities.

Although Abdullahi and I went to the UK, we went to different universities – he to Hull and myself to London University. It was in Geneva where, after Amoud, we spent some years together, he as Somalia’s Permanent Ambassador to the UN and myself as an official of UNCTAD. The weight and influence of any ambassador depends partly on the standing of his country among nations and partly on his competence to fulfil his duties. Ambassador Osman exceeded expectations and Somalia satisfactorily met its requirements. When Abdullahi was appointed in 1976 to Geneva, Somalia was one of the most dynamic countries in Africa and militarily one of the strongest. It was a time when much progress was made at home and the country wanted to project its influence and weight abroad. Geneva was of particular importance given it is the seat of most UN and international organisations specializing in international development, humanitarian, health and labour among other sectors.

Ambassador Abdullahi in a nutshell fulfilled his mission for his country with distinction and within a short time. Soon after my arrival in Geneva in 1977, Abdullahi was already among the heavyweights among the third world diplomats in Geneva. Quickly displaying his outstanding qualities as a speaker and negotiator, he was soon chosen as the Spokesman of the Organisation of African Unity (OAU) member countries, the precursor of the current African Union (AU). He was also designated as the spokesman for members of the League of Arab States (LAS).

I have seen him in action as Chairman, or speaking for his country, or on behalf of the OAU or the LAS member countries. Some delegates when they speak bore conferences and send them to sleep. Not with Ambassador Abdullahi. All eyes would be fixated on him when he spoke with his flawless English and admirable faultless delivery. Such was his high standing in the corridors of the UN in Geneva that other ambassadors would sometimes queue to handshake him, or to draw his attention, or seek his consultation on specific agenda items at meetings or conferences of the day. Starting a Mission from scratch, with a skeleton staff and a meagre budget, he was able to turn it into one of the leading Missions among developing countries.

One of Ambassador Abdullahi’s greatest contributions was after the 1977 war with Ethiopia when over a million ethnic Somalis fleeing the Somali region of Ethiopia in fear of retribution from the Mengistu Haile Mariam sought refuge in Somalia. Ambassador Abdullahi had two pressing tasks to undertake: on the one hand, to draw the attention of the international community to the dire humanitarian needs of the refugees; and at the same time to expose Ethiopia for pushing out these refugees and for continuing to commit crimes against humanity in the Somali regions of Ethiopia. He was successful on both fronts. Ethiopia under Mengistu had little friends in the West in those days. He was the bane of Ethiopia and they could find no one to match him.

In the end, he was transferred to the Somali Mission to the UN in New York in 1984. He was equally effective there as he was in Geneva if not more with the experience he had gained over two decades. It was a time to be proud of Somalia and to be a Somali in which Ambassador Abdullahi played no small part. Only those who knew it at close hand can appreciate it in the midst of what we have gone through- falling from our pedestal to a failed state.

Ambassador Abdullahi’s departure from New York drew the curtain on the era when Somalia used to send some of its brightest and best representatives abroad to key countries and international organisations: men like Mohamoud Abdi Araale, first Ambassador in London; Qaybe in Moscow; Omar Arteh in Addis Ababa; Abdirahim Aabe Farah in New York; Abdullahi Hassan in Cairo; and Abdullahi Said Osman to Geneva – just to mention some of them. What is noticeable is that all these key ambassadors hail from the North (former British Somaliland) and were appointed by southern presidents (Aden Abdalla Osman, Abdirashid Ali Sharmarke, and Mohamed Siyad Barre). They did so because they put the interest of the country first before clan and personal interests. Alas! Things ain’t what they used to be. Those once vibrant performing Somali Missions are a shell of their glorious past as nepotism and mediocrity have come to rule.

I will remember Ambassador Abdullahi not only as a lovable friend but also as the last and weightiest among the giants of Somali diplomats, in terms of his sheer intellect and competence. He has done his duties for his nation with unrivalled distinction – May God bless him. Unfortunately, his legacy and those of his colleagues, who served in other designations, ceased to exist with the collapse of the State. Its rebirth is aborted by those who claim to rule in the name of Somalia but rule nothing other than administer lasting damage to this unfortunate country.

Osman Hassan
email: osman.hassan2 @gmail.com
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Osman Hassan is a seasoned journalist and a former UN staff member. Mr Hassan is also a regular contributor to WardheerNews.