Somalia’s Silent War: The Human Faces Behind the Fight Against Al-Shabaab

 

It's easy to scroll past headlines about Somalia. Another bombing. Another village taken. Another promise of international support that never quite materializes. But behind these fleeting news flashes are real people—mothers who bury children, soldiers who haven't seen their families in years, and entire generations growing up knowing nothing but war.

I recently spoke with Farah, a Somali army medic stationed in Lower Shabelle. His voice cracked as he described treating a 12-year-old boy caught in an Al-Shabaab mortar attack. "We saved his life," he told me, "but for what? To send him back to a camp where there's no school, no future?" His words hung in the air, heavy with the unspoken truth: Somalia's war isn't just about territory—it's about broken promises and stolen futures.

The Human Face of the Conflict

In Mogadishu's Madina Hospital, Dr. Amina Mohamed shows me the "war ward"—a makeshift unit where blast victims overflow into hallways. "Every time the international community looks away," she says, wiping sweat from her brow, "we lose more ground." She's not just talking about geography.

The numbers tell part of the story:

1 in 3 Somali children malnourished
60% youth unemployment in liberated areas.
17 years—the average age of new Al-Shabaab recruits.But numbers don't capture the smell of burned homes in recently retaken villages. They don't convey the hollow eyes of fathers who've buried multiple sons.

Why Is This Fight Special

When I asked him, he showed me a video of his daughter reading a poem in a school that began there just a few years ago. This, he said softly, is what they are trying to destroy.Many in the global community describe Somalia's war as connected to counterterrorism. But in reality, people need basic human dignity: the normal life that anyone should have. To have confidence that your kids are safe at school. To set up a business site that will not be attacked by bombs. To hope.

Practical Steps

This is not about politics at a distant scale. It's about:Letting somalis speak for themselves rather than doing the talking for them.
Working with organisations that are actively helping people needing help.
Thinking about the fact that every statistic involves a person's child.When I had gone to the airport from Mogadishu, a shopkeeper pulled me aside. Be sure, he appealed, to let them know, "we still exist". His words sound in my ears and do not leave me alone. Because the public pays more attention to other wars, Somalia’s resilience often remains unrecognised. Still, we should give more attention to these special common people than we often do.Seeing their lives is important.