Opinion — The Price of Somalia’s Failed Democratic Transition.

When I saw the pictures of the Prime Minister, H.E. Xamze, visiting the headquarters of the Independent National Electoral Commission, I paused for a moment. The images were different from the political scenes we have grown used to in Somalia. They showed real work, real systems, real preparation, and real readiness for something the Somali public has been promised for more than two decades: a functioning one person, one vote election.

My first reaction was hope, followed immediately by frustration. As a citizen, it is rare to see such tangible progress so clearly displayed. Inside that facility, I saw organized voter registration kits, technicians checking devices, coded storage shelves, cross-checking stations, and call-center rooms prepared to serve the public. For the first time, it looked like Somalia was genuinely building an electoral system capable of serving every citizen.

The frustration came when I remembered how often this country has reached similar moments before, only to watch political actors disrupt the process for their own interests. In every election cycle, potential candidates stand before the two Houses of Parliament with the same promises. They speak confidently about delivering the one person, one vote system. They talk about change, justice, and representation. Yet when the moment arrives, they return to the same Election Tent where leaders are selected through negotiations, influence, and financial pressure rather than elected by the public.

Somalis have not elected their leaders. They have watched them being selected. Now, at the moment when a real electoral system is being built and visibly taking shape, some opposition voices are again telling us to wait. They claim the timing is wrong, the conditions are not ready, or that things should pause until they reach Villa Somalia. This message has been repeated for over twenty years, and every time it produces the same outcome. The public loses, and the political class protects its interests.

To make this clearer, consider a simple example. Imagine two kindergarten schools. The first school is open today. Enrollment is ongoing, and parents can bring their under-five children immediately. The children can start learning now, make mistakes, improve, and build the foundations they need for the future. The second school is closed and tells parents to come back after four years when they plan to open. By the time that school opens, the child is no longer under five. The early learning years are gone, and the chance to build a strong foundation has passed.

This is exactly how the Somali political class has treated the public. The first school represents the current opportunity to begin implementing the one person, one vote system. The second school represents the political actors who keep asking us to wait for the next cycle, the next term, the next leader, or the next moment that suits their interests. Meanwhile, generations lose their chance to participate in shaping their own country. Somalia is the child in this example. Time passes, opportunities disappear, and the public is continuously told to wait for a system that never arrives.

There is another example that demonstrates how this political cycle sabotages national progress whenever certain groups are outside the system. When the government began registering citizens through the National Identification and Registration Authority (NIRA), the process was simple. Somalis were asked to register themselves just like citizens in any other country. Instead of supporting this essential national effort, some political elites and presidential aspirants immediately began spreading misinformation, creating confusion, and circulating negative narratives about the registration.

In some public gatherings, opposition politicians have even gone as far as echoing talking points that closely resemble those used by extremist groups, not because they share their ideology, but simply to undermine the government. It is disturbing to see former leaders and senior politicians stand on the same stage and remain silent in such moments.

Yet despite the noise and misinformation, the government’s efforts progressively impressed the public and began to gain genuine trust. The NIRA application process moved forward. It was officially launched in August 2024, and today registration centers across the country are full, with long queues and high public demand. That leaves us with a simple question. Why is it a problem for some politicians when the government registers its own citizens? How does this threaten any political group or presidential candidate? Why is a system that strengthens security, improves governance, and helps citizens access services treated with hostility by people who claim to care about the country’s future?