By Farah Aw-Osman

Sometimes I ask myself a painful question: how did a people with one language, one religion, one culture, and one ethnicity end up becoming one of the longest collapsed states in the world?

The truth is, Somalia did not collapse in one day, and it did not collapse because of one clan or one leader alone. We slowly destroyed our country with division, tribalism, greed, bad leadership, corruption, and by placing clan interests above national interests.

When Somalia became independent in 1960, our parents and grandparents believed they were building a strong nation. Somali nationalism was powerful. People believed in Soomaaliweyn, unity, dignity, and a shared future. But somewhere along the way, we lost direction. Instead of building strong institutions and fair governance, politics became about clan balance, power, and access to resources. Over time, many people began believing that whoever controls the government controls the wealth, jobs, contracts, security, and opportunities of the country.

Part of this problem also comes from our history as a pastoral and nomadic society. For generations, communities competed over water wells, grazing land, and limited resources. Usually, the strongest group gained greater access and protection. Unfortunately, many Somalis later began viewing the state in the same way.

Instead of seeing the government as something belonging equally to all citizens, it became viewed as something to capture and protect for one’s clan. This destroyed trust between communities. The famous historian Ibn Khaldun said that states collapse when people lose social unity and collective purpose. Looking at Somalia today, his words feel painfully true.

Somali intellectuals also warned us long ago. Mohamed Haji Mukhtar and Abdi Ismail Samatar both spoke about the dangers of clan politics, weak leadership, and the failure to build proper institutions. The late Somali writer Mohamed Dahir Afrah once described Somalia as “A Land without Leaders in a World without Conscience.” Those words still describe our reality today.

The problem is not qabiil itself. Qabiil historically helped Somalis survive, protect one another, and solve disputes. The real problem began when politicians weaponized tribalism for power. Many leaders discovered that it was easier to divide people through clan emotions than to unite them through national vision. So tribalism became a political business.

People stopped asking:
“Is this good for Somalia?”
Instead they asked:
Is he from my clan?”

Today, many Somalis defend politicians more than they defend the country itself. One of the saddest things about Somalia today is that every group sees itself as the only victim. For many Isaaq communities the deepest pain comes from the destruction and violence of 1988. Many Darod communities remember the killings, displacement, and chaos that followed 1991. Many Hawiye communities point to the wars and instability that intensified after the 2006 Ethiopian intervention. Many Rahanweyn and southern communities still carry painful memories of famine, massacres, displacement, land grabbing, and insecurity.

The truth is painful, but almost every Somali community became both victim and participant at different times during the conflict. Yes, some communities suffered more than others during certain periods, and those realities must be acknowledged honestly. But Somalia cannot heal if every group only remembers its own pain while ignoring the suffering of others.

We have become a people without shared memory, shared pain, or shared responsibility. At the same time, we have also become a country where responsible citizenship is disappearing. Corruption, hypocrisy, tribal hatred, propaganda, and blind loyalty have become normal. Many people no longer stand for what is right. They only stand for who belongs to their side. That is dangerous for any nation.

Somalia also became vulnerable because we remained divided while foreign countries pursued their own interests inside our country. Instead of solving our problems among ourselves, Somali factions repeatedly invited outsiders to help defeat fellow Somalis.

History teaches us that divided nations become playgrounds for stronger powers. Even Sun Tzu in The Art of War warned that internal division invites outside manipulation. Today, the world itself is changing. International laws are weaker, morality is selective, and global politics is increasingly based on power and interests.

In such a world, weak and divided countries become vulnerable. Maybe Somalia’s tragedy is also connected to where Allah placed us. We sit in one of the most strategic locations in the world. We have the longest coastline in Africa, rich natural resources, fertile land, oil and gas potential, fisheries, and a young population full of energy and talent.

But instead of becoming a strong and prosperous nation, our divisions turned these blessings into sources of competition and foreign interference. Millions of Somalis are now scattered across the world. Many still dream of returning home one day to a peaceful and united country.

At the same time, we now have two generations of Somali youth who have never experienced a united Somalia, a functioning national government, or the hope that comes with stability and nationhood. Many young Somalis see no future, no direction, and no reason to believe tomorrow will be better than today.

How long can they continue waiting?

Can a country survive forever without real government, unity, or national purpose? What Somalia needs today is not another empty conference, another disputed or manipulated election, or another temporary political deal designed only to buy time for politicians.

What Somalia truly needs is a national awakening.
An awakening of conscience.
An awakening of leadership.
An awakening of responsible citizenship.

We must stop seeing ourselves only through qabiil and begin seeing ourselves again as one people with one destiny.
We must move from blame to responsibility. From division to reconciliation. From tribal politics to nation building. Because if Somalis do not wake up soon, we risk losing more than government. We risk losing Somalia itself.

Farah Aw-Osman
Email: awosman@gmail.com