By Abdullahi A. Nor
In the intricate and often fragile world of Somali politics, few stories better exemplify federal overreach and political miscalculation than that of Senator Ilyas Beddel Gaboose—once a quiet figure in Mogadishu’s political corridors, now a symbol of failed sabotage in Jubaland.
Sources within the Jubaland administration and among political observers confirm that Gaboose was dispatched to Kismayo with a singular mission: disrupt the constitutionally mandated presidential election in the Federal Member State of Jubaland. Bankrolled by the Federal Government of Somalia (FGS), Gaboose was reportedly equipped with funds, logistical support, and political assurances. His task was clear—to manufacture chaos and delegitimize the re-election of President Ahmed Mohamed Islam Madobe.
But Jubaland’s institutions, firmly rooted in their constitutional mandate, held strong. The state parliament, composed of duly elected representatives, proceeded with electoral process in late November 2024, culminating in the reelection of President Madobe with near-unanimous support.
“This was not just an election; it was a declaration of unity and defiance against interference,” said MP Abdinasir Yusuf, one of the lawmakers who voted in the official session. “We stood with our president, and the people stood with us. Gaboose was an outsider with a suitcase full of false promises.”
Faced with certain defeat in the formal process and knowing that no lawmaker would support a man seen as a paid agent of Mogadishu, Gaboose orchestrated a mock election in a hotel hall. He gathered a group of ordinary citizens—some reports say hotel staff were coerced to attend—and theatrically declared himself the “elected president” of Jubaland.
The act sparked widespread outrage and ridicule
“It was a clown show,” said resident Hawo Barre, who watched the video online. “This man thought he could trick an entire city with a fake vote in a hotel room. Who did he think we were?”
Social media erupted with condemnation. Memes and hashtags mocking Gaboose trended across Somali platforms. His face was plastered over doctored images comparing him to failed coup plotters. One widely shared post read: “From senator to saboteur—Gaboose has officially defected from dignity.” Another quipped: “Gaboose thinks you can crown yourself king in a corridor and expect to rule a republic. He must be auditioning for a comedy show.”
Prominent scholar Dr. Amina Warsame described Gaboose’s actions as “a betrayal not just of Jubaland but of constitutionalism. His is the face of what happens when self-interest, ego, and federal manipulation collide.” Political analyst Ibrahim Diriye added, “He’s gone from proxy to pariah. The Somali public is not easily fooled.”
The roots of this crisis, however, extend further back. President Ahmed Madobe unlawfully stole parliamentary seats to reward his sub clan, most notably Prime Minister Hamza Abdi Barre and Senator Gaboose. According to Somalia’s clan power-sharing formula, these seats should have been allocated to other sub-clans of the Ogaden tribe. Prime Minister Hamza himself has admitted that his seat was not rightfully earned.
All three men—Madobe, Hamza, and Gaboose—belong to the same clan, more precisely the same sub-clan and lineage. Under the 4.5 power-sharing formula, they are collectively entitled to only one seat. That seat rightfully belongs to President Madobe and no more. By monopolizing power within their sub-clan, they violated not only constitutional norms but also the moral fabric that holds clan-based governance together.
“You only harvest what you sow,” said political elder Abdi Noor. “What Madobe did was immoral. And the consequences have started unfolding.”
Despite the chaos Gaboose attempted to incite, the official process proceeded without a hitch. President Madobe was sworn in for another term, hailed by MPs and the public alike.
“There has never been this level of public enthusiasm and trust in leadership since Jubaland’s formation,” said Mohamed Ismail, a local elder in Kismayo. “President Madobe is not just a politician; he’s a protector of our people. The federal government wanted division, but instead, they gave us unity.”
Rather than arrest Gaboose for treason—a charge that many said would have been justified—President Madobe took a higher road. He deployed security forces around the senator’s home, not to imprison him, but to protect him from potential harm at the hands of furious citizens.
“Let the man live with his shame,” Madobe is reported to have told close aides. “Justice doesn’t always need bars. Sometimes silence from the people you tried to betray is the loudest punishment.”
Since then, Gaboose has remained in Kismayo, effectively under self-imposed exile. He claims he is under “house arrest,” but government officials insist otherwise. “No court order exists. He is free to go,” said Jubaland Interior Minister Abdirahman Moalim. “But he won’t leave—because even Mogadishu sees him now for what he is: a failed operative.”
Political analysts suggest Gaboose has become untouchable in every sphere. “He’s burned every bridge,” said Hodan Warsame, a Horn of Africa affairs expert. “His credibility is zero with the Jubaland public, and the FGS won’t back him again. His name is now a cautionary tale.”
Even within his own clan, Gaboose’s name is reportedly met with contempt. A Kismayo businessman who once supported him financially shared: “We were told he would represent us. Instead, he tried to sell us out to those who wanted to control our state. He is no longer welcome even in our gatherings.”
Efforts to restore his public image have backfired. A recent attempt to issue a press statement claiming he was the “true president” of Jubaland only reignited public scorn. Commentators labeled it “desperate,” “delusional,” and “laughable.”
As Jubaland moves forward under the steady hand of President Ahmed Madobe, the contrast could not be clearer. While Madobe commands loyalty, respect, and a functioning administration, Gaboose is left isolated—estranged from the very government that sent him, and despised by the people he tried to deceive.
“Ahmed Madobe is not only our president. He is our pride,” said Fatima Ali, a youth activist. “We don’t want puppets or proxies. We want leaders who will defend our soil, and Madobe does that with strength and wisdom.”
“We don’t forget betrayals,” said elder Shukri Nuur. “Gaboose didn’t just fail politically. He failed morally. He tried to sell our dignity, and now he hides from our eyes.” From proxy to pariah, Gaboose’s downfall is complete—and Jubaland’s sovereignty has never been more resolute.
Abdullahi Ahmed Nor
Email: abdulahinor231@gmail.com