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Abdirahman Abdillahi Kassim, a street vendor, survived two mass bombings by al-Shabaab jihadists in Somalia’s capital, Mogadishu. The first killed nearly 500 people, the second, at the end of October, more than 130.
But the horrific attacks also took a heavy personal toll on Mr. Abdirahman: his wife and daughter and a leg in the first bombing, his son and his remaining leg in the second. His brother, Mohammed Abdillahi Kassim, a singer who has faced threats from dissident jihadists, is now tending to his wounded sibling in a hospital in Mogadishu.
Why we wrote this
Not one suicide bombing, but two. This is what a Somali man survived, remarkably. But his losses were deep and tested his and Somalia’s resilience in the face of sustained attacks by al-Shabaab jihadists.
Even by the bleak standards of Somalia, which has endured 15 years of al-Shabaab’s often brutal presence over parts of its territory, Mr. Abdirahman’s personal tragedy stands out. For legions of Somalis, survival requires personal resilience, but the events this family experienced put that resilience to the test.
One of the few things the family says brings them some measure of happiness is the news that al-Shabaab is facing mounting losses as the government mounts a new offensive.
“Now they are busy running to save themselves” on the battlefield, Mr. Mohammed says with a small smile. “But they still have eyes on you.”
When the explosions went off, Abdirahman Abdilahi Kassim, a street vendor of gum, sweets and cigarettes, was being helped by his 11-year-old son Ibrahim near the Ministry of Education in Mogadishu.
The twin suicide car bombings on October 29 by al-Shabaab jihadists claimed more than 130 lives, so Mr. Abdirahman, pulled alive from the rubble, could be considered a lucky man. Perhaps even more so because, remarkably, he also survived a mass truck bombing at the same Mogadishu market junction in October 2017.
Yet that previous al-Shabaab attack, which killed nearly 500 people, also claimed the lives of his wife, Faiza Ali Qasim, and their 14-year-old daughter, Amina. And it cost him a leg.
Why we wrote this
Not one suicide bombing, but two. This is what a Somali man survived, remarkably. But his losses were deep and tested his and Somalia’s resilience in the face of sustained attacks by al-Shabaab jihadists.
This second attack took even longer, robbing Mr Abdirahman of his remaining leg – and his son.
His brother, Mohammed Abdillahi Kassim, has been caring for his injured sibling day and night in a hospital in Mogadishu. His eyes water and his voice breaks as he explains that he has not yet decided to tell his brother that Ibrahim did not survive.
Even by the grim standard of Somalia, which has endured 15 years of Al-Shabaab’s brutal and often brutal presence over parts of its territory – including numerous deadly attacks on civilians – the tragedy experienced by Mr Abdirahman and his family stands out as a particularly horrific example. at the cost of those living under the continued threat of jihadist violence. It is a national and personal saga that unfolded while the world was distracted by other more visible and accessible crises.
Survival has required personal resilience, but the events this family has experienced – along with the legions of other Somalis whose lives have been affected by the jihadists – put that resilience to the test.
Al Shabaab on the defensive
Indeed, one of the few things this Somali family says already brings them some measure of happiness is the news that al-Shabaab – often seen as al-Qaeda’s most effective local franchise – is facing mounting battlefield losses in central Somalia, as the government vows “total war” and launches a new offensive.
Al Shabaab has lost more territory in the past four months than in the previous five years, by some estimates, grimly raising expectations of more revenge attacks in the capital. On Sunday, for example, al-Shabaab gunmen armed with explosives stormed the Villa Rose Hotel, sparking overnight gunfire and a day-long standoff at the downtown hotel frequented by government officials.
“Anything can happen at any time,” said Mr. Mohammed, a famous Somali singer with his own al-Shabaab story. “Al Shabaab are everywhere. They can sit with you like a friend,” he says. “They could be in your family.”
The latest attack deepened Mr Abdirahman’s family’s loathing of al-Shabaab, which has compounded Somalia’s worst drought in 40 years by destroying water sources and crops in the affected areas. The UN has warned that Somalia is on the brink of famine, with 1.5 million Somalis facing “acute malnutrition”.
Al-Shabaab claimed responsibility for the deadly attack, saying the Ministry of Education was at the center of a “war on minds” that was teaching Somali children a Christian-based curriculum, Reuters reported.
Mr Abdirahman now spends every day in a hospital bed crying as he recovers, with leg stumps bandaged.
“He has nothing left,” says Mr. Mohammed. “When he lost his wife and daughter, he tried to live again – and now he lost his son. … The worst thing is that we cannot do anything for our brother.”
The indiscriminate “tools” of jihadists
In June, a senior al-Shabaab leader, Mahad Karate, a former Somali intelligence officer, was asked by Jamal Osman of the UK’s Channel Four how the group justified killing Somali Muslims while claiming to be fighting for Islam.
“We fight an enemy and kill each other,” he replied. “But because of the tools we use to kill, there will be consequences not only for our targets, but for others who are not our targets.”
The result on the ground is that more civilians have died in al-Shabaab attacks so far this year than in any year since 2017, according to the Armed Conflict Location and Event Data Project.
“Al-Shabaab are bad people who know nothing about humanity,” says Mr Mohammed, adding that the family would leave Somalia “forever” if given the chance.
In fact, leaving the country for a while is a path the singer has already taken, today sporting a red ‘BOSS’ baseball cap and a silver ring with a large green stone.
His own problems with al-Shabaab predate his brother’s losses in the 2017 bombing, when he began receiving phone threats from the jihadists. They said his singing was against Islam.
“They called me many times and said, ‘That’s right haram [forbidden]. What are you doing? Stop,” he recalls. “So every time I went to work, I thought it was my last time.”
That was six years ago and Mr Mohammed fled to Ethiopia’s capital, Addis Ababa, where he stayed until early this year.
Al Shabaab is watching
Then a song he made with his band about love and peace was posted online and caught the attention of al-Shabaab.
Four months ago, the singer was called again by Al-Shabaab.
“You’re back,” the caller said. “We know your every move.”
“I’m very scared,” admits Mr. Mohammed. He has reduced his singing engagements from five nights a week to just one. But he cannot leave Somalia because of his brother’s serious condition.
“I limit my work,” he says. “I stay in my house because I fear for myself. I can’t afford bodyguards.
Because of the threats, Mr. Mohammed moved his wife and children to a new city. His former neighbors, he says, appear to sympathize with al-Shabaab against his singing – and may have spied for the group.
Breaking his own safety protocol, Mr. Mohammed gave several interviews on Somali television, saying it was worth the risk to get government support or action on his brother’s case. In those interviews, he made it clear that al-Shabaab was responsible for the intensity of his family’s grief – and the suffering of so many Somali citizens.
No support came from officials, he says. But the latest broadcasts have not led to new threats from al-Shabaab, now preoccupied with the government’s offensive.
“Now they are busy running to save themselves” on the battlefield, says Mr. Mohammed, who allows himself a smile at the thought. “But they still have eyes on you.”
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