By Dayib Sh. Ahmed

The normalization of sycophancy within Puntland’s political culture is steadily corroding the intellectual capacity of its society—most alarmingly among its youth. In a region where critical thinking should be nurtured and rewarded, young people are increasingly socialized into a dangerous belief system, that unquestioning loyalty to political figures, expressed through blind praise, performative admiration, and public applause, is the most reliable pathway to opportunity, recognition, and upward mobility. This misplaced belief is not accidental; it is the result of deliberate psychological conditioning, reinforced daily by the behavior of elders, tribal elders, media influencers, and political elites who themselves often prioritize loyalty over merit, conformity over courage.

Over time, this culture discourages honest dialogue and stifles creative problem-solving. It narrows the space for civic engagement, making genuine activism, dissent, and critical debate appear risky or even traitorous. Independent thinkers are marginalized, reformers are sidelined, and youth are subtly coerced into echoing the slogans of the powerful instead of questioning them. The implications are far-reaching: when an entire generation is taught that flattery is more valuable than ideas, society loses its capacity to innovate, self-correct, or demand better from its leaders.

Unless this trajectory is reversed through intentional civic education, youth empowerment programs, independent media, and grassroots leadership development, the damage will be long-lasting. The future of Puntland depends not on those who recite the loudest slogans, but on those with the courage to challenge broken systems, propose new ideas, and hold power to account. To remain silent in the face of this growing culture of manufactured praise is to betray the very potential Puntland’s youth represent.

Puntland at a Crossroads

Puntland was founded on two noble promises, to deliver peace and accountable governance to its people, and to contribute to the creation of a united, stable, and functional Somali state. These were not mere political slogans—they were born of hardship, shaped by struggle, and carried forward by the hope of building a better future. Every gain came through sacrifice. But 27 years later, we must ask—what remains of those founding ideals? The answer is sobering both promises have been profoundly neglected. Once hailed as a model of progress, Puntland now teeters on the edge of becoming a cautionary tale. Institutions are weakening, public trust is deteriorating, and the legacy of those who laid its foundation is being undermined by those in power today. Despite its relative stability and strategic assets—including ports, airports, and untapped natural wealth and some history rich in honorable people Puntland suffers from stagnant development and political stagnation.

The region’s governance has become more theatrical than transformative. Political structures exist, but their substance is hollow. Its vast resources are scarcely used for the public good. A history that should fuel resilience has instead given way to resignation. Worse still is the silent erosion of critical thought. Across the region, intellectual space is shrinking—constrained by structural poverty, the normalization of incompetence, repressive leadership, and a climate where questioning authority is discouraged. These are not random trends; they reflect deeper policy failures that have left citizens economically dependent, politically silenced, and intellectually disengaged.

Puntland now stands at a defining moment. It can reclaim its founding mission with honesty and vision—or continue down the path of short-term politics, eroded institutions, and lost potential. The choice is urgent, and the cost of inaction grows heavier with each passing day. Over the past several years, poverty has proliferated across Puntland not solely as a result of global conditions, but as a consequence of deliberate policy negligence. Under current leadership tenure, the region’s economic base has collapsed to the extent that basic economic security has become a luxury. This vulnerability has created a populace susceptible to political patronage and exploitation.

Citizens, especially the youth, are forced to trade their voices and conscience for temporary relief whether in the form of cash handouts or minor appointments. This transactional dynamic is not only ethically bankrupt, but structurally unsustainable, as it encourages a model of governance built on dependency rather than accountability. For-instance at the same time, Puntland’s economic reality continues to deteriorate. Widespread youth unemployment, rising cost of living, and deepening poverty have pushed a growing number of young people to flee the region in search of opportunity abroad—often risking their lives through dangerous migration routes. Yet, the government offers no coherent strategy for economic development, job creation, or youth retention.

Parliament, once envisioned as a forum for public accountability and policy innovation, has become dysfunctional and subservient, while the judiciary no longer serves as an independent check on executive overreach. President Deni has centralized power to an alarming degree, bypassing institutional channels and ruling through Power-brokering and personal networks. In this climate, economic policy is driven not by public interest but by political expediency, and critical institutions meant to safeguard governance have been hollowed out. Despite the mounting crisis, no serious reforms have been introduced to address youth disenfranchisement or economic stagnation—further reinforcing the perception that the government is not only out of touch, but actively complicit in the region’s decline.

When Failure Becomes a Badge of Honor

Equally troubling is the trend of institutionalizing failure as a point of pride. Puntland, once hailed for its stability and local governance model, has witnessed unprecedented security lapses. Instead of confronting the root causes of terrorism or reviewing the failure of state institutions to provide security, the administration has co-opted the resulting crisis as a platform for image rehabilitation. The same leadership that presided over the security collapse is now lionized for addressing it creating a false narrative in which failure becomes a justification for further power consolidation. This political sleight of hand undermines principles of accountability, and the public’s uncritical acceptance of this narrative reveals the extent to which civic reasoning has been weakened.

Furthermore, the erosion of intellectual freedom represents a serious violation of constitutional rights and fundamental liberties. In recent years—and especially since the intensification of counterterrorism operations against ISIS-affiliated groups and Al-Shabaab—the space for dissent, critical debate, and civic expression has shrunk dramatically. Although these militant threats have been largely defeated through sustained security efforts, the government’s response has extended far beyond legitimate counterterrorism.  

While every legal system allows for restrictions on speech that incites violence or threatens public order, Puntland’s judiciary has increasingly been used as an instrument of executive repression. The hasty and opaque detentions recently carried out by the Governor of Galkacayo against youth—particularly those who voiced dissenting views on security degenerated and the lack of development for their region—are both legally indefensible and procedurally flawed. These actions constitute a serious breach of due process and stand in direct violation of the fundamental rights guaranteed under Somalia’s Provisional Constitutionand Puntland’s own legal framework.

Criminalizing peaceful expression and civic criticism not only undermines the rule of law but also erodes the core values of democratic governance. These young individuals were not criminals, insurgents, or threats to public order—they were engaged citizens expressing their constitutional right to free speech. Detaining them without transparent legal justification or due judicial process sets a dangerous precedent and reflects a troubling slide toward authoritarianism at the local level. Such practices must be firmly condemned and urgently reversed. Sustainable peace and legitimacy cannot be built by silencing youth voices or suppressing critical dialogue. They can only emerge through justice, inclusivity, and accountability. Puntland’s credibility as a self-governing and rights-respecting region is at stake—and it will be judged by how it treats its most vocal and vulnerable citizens.

In conclusion, the intellectual degradation of Puntland’s civic life is not a spontaneous crisis it is the outcome of deliberate neglect and authoritarian tendencies cloaked in the language of stability and security. A people systematically impoverished, intellectually silenced, and politically manipulated cannot be expected to hold their leaders accountable or contribute meaningfully to development. Reversing this trajectory requires a broad-based civic awakening, one rooted in critical education, legal reform, and social mobilization. Citizens must support the fight against terrorism, but they must also refuse to allow that struggle to be weaponized against political dissent or to conceal broader governance failures. Only through a renewed culture of legal accountability and civic reason can Puntland hope to recover from the structural decay now afflicting its institutions and reclaim a future grounded in justice, dignity, and inclusive progress.

Dayib Sh. Ahmed
Email: Dayib0658@gmail.com