Top stories
Somalia is Dangerous: Former US Deportees Struggle With Fear, Uncertainty
Those previously deported by the US warn that President Trump’s plan to expel more Somali migrants may endanger lives.
Mukhtar Abdiwhab Ahmed, who lived in the US as a refugee, was deported back to Somalia in 2018
Mukhtar Abdiwhab Ahmed sits in a plastic chair outside his house in Mogadishu. Nearby, children play, soldiers congregate, and rickshaws speed by under the scorching sun.
“If I knew I would end up here [in Somalia] I would have never gotten these tattoos,” the 39-year-old tells Al Jazeera, saying he has taken to mostly wearing long sleeves to avoid the negative comments and “dirty looks” he gets from people in the city.
Mukhtar spent most of his life in the United States but has struggled to readapt to conservative Somali society since being deported in 2018 under the first Donald Trump presidency.
Now, newly inaugurated for a second time in office, the Trump administration has once again announced removal orders for migrants he says are in the US “illegally”. This includes more than 4,000 Somalis who, like Mukhtar, face deportation to the country of their birth.
But lawyers, activists and Somalis who were deported from the US in previous years say the plan may put lives at risk as insecurity and instability still plague Somalia, readapting to a country many left as children is difficult, and work opportunities are scarce.
Meanwhile, Washington itself warns its own citizens about “crime, terrorism, civil unrest … kidnapping, [and] piracy” in the East African country, where attacks by the armed group al-Shabab are a common occurrence.
‘The wrong path’
Mukhtar and his family were among the first to flee Somalia after the collapse of the government in 1991. They left for neighbouring Kenya before Mukhtar and his older brother made it to the US as refugees.
The two settled in the south end of Seattle, Washington in 1995 – an area with high rates of poverty and youth violence, where Mukhtar says he fell into “crime, drugs and temptation”.
“At 16, I started getting into trouble,” he says. He skipped school, dabbled in crime, and was arrested and charged with a felony after stealing and crashing a relative’s car.
Though he tried to get his life on track, in 2005, he was charged with armed robbery. It was the then 19-year-old’s first time going through the system as an adult; he was found guilty and sentenced to two years in prison.
Mukhtar was deported from the US after he was arrested and jailed for a crime
The day his sentence ended, agents from US Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) visited him in prison, and instead of releasing him, transferred Mukhtar to the Northwest Detention Center in Tacoma, Washington – one of the largest immigration detention centres in the US.
“It felt like serving two sentences for committing one crime, and when I reached the immigration jail, I felt like an animal being taken to the slaughterhouse,” he says.
A few months in, ICE agents brought him a document to sign, saying he would be deported to Somalia. As part of its Criminal Alien Program, ICE works to identify and remove jailed migrants they believe “threaten the safety” of the US.
Mukhtar says he knew he wouldn’t be deported as Somalia was at war. It was 2007 and during that time, US-backed Ethiopian troops were in the country battling splinter groups that rose from the ashes following the ouster of the Islamic Courts Union, and the subsequent rise of its youth military wing, al-Shabab.
Tired of being in prison, Mukhtar decided to sign the document. But after he was released by ICE, he says he “kept going down the wrong path”. When he was arrested for burglary in 2015, he expected to be released after completing his one-year sentence, but ICE showed up again and sent him back to Northwest Detention Center for 11 months.
“It was like history repeating itself once again,” he says.
He again thought ICE would not deport him to Somalia “because of the war and instability back home”. But in December 2017, he was among 92 Somalis put on a deportation flight manned by ICE agents that prompted an international outcry after the plane did not make it to its destination for logistical reasons and it emerged that the deportees were abused en route.
“We were abused on the deportation flight,” he says. “I recall there were about 20 guards, they roughed up a lot of us, including one guy who was tased. They really beat us and, mind you, the whole time we were in handcuffs and shackled by our waist and feet for like 40 hours.”
Upon returning to the US, they were taken to an immigration detention centre and most of the Somalis on his flight filed motions to reopen their immigration cases to fight deportation.
However, others like Mukhtar accepted deportation to Somalia – rather than risk a lengthy court process and further jail time.
“If I look at all the times I’ve been incarcerated my entire life, it adds up to eight years, nearly a decade, and I couldn’t bear to stay behind bars any longer,” he says.
Mukhtar, left, and fellow deportee from the US, Anwar Mohamed, try to readjust to life in Mogadishu
‘Too dangerous for ICE agents’
In March 2018, Mukhtar was one of 120 migrants on a deportation flight from the US – 40 Somalis, 40 Kenyans and 40 Sudanese, he says. The Kenyans were released upon the plane’s arrival in Nairobi, while the Sudanese and Somalis were placed on separate flights headed for Khartoum and Mogadishu, respectively.
“We were still handcuffed when we switched planes in Nairobi but the ICE agents didn’t continue the journey with us from Nairobi to Mogadishu,” Mukhtar says.
Other deportees sent back in past years also report ICE using a third party to complete the removal process to Somalia.
In 2005, Somali immigrant Keyse Jama was flown from Minneapolis to Nairobi by ICE, only for a private security firm to escort him to Somalia – at a time when most of the country was controlled by strongmen.
Anwar Mohamed, 36, who was deported a month after Mukhtar, says he landed in Nairobi before he and the other Somali passengers were placed on another flight to Mogadishu.
“When we asked the ICE agents why they weren’t going to escort us to Mogadishu, they responded by saying Somalia is too dangerous,” Anwar tells Al Jazeera.
“If Somalia is too dangerous for ICE agents to go, then why did the [US] government send us here?” he asks.
As of 2024, the US State Department has marked Somalia as a level 4 “Do Not Travel” country for US citizens, citing crime, terrorism and kidnapping, among other reasons. Al-Shabab and other groups opposed to the government continue to carry out armed attacks, including in places frequented by civilians.
While Somalia is deemed unsafe for US citizens, the Trump administration has marked 4,090 Somalis for deportation this year.
Residents gather near the scene of an explosion of a bomb-rigged car parked near the National Theatre in the Hamar Weyne district of Mogadishu in September 2024 [Feisal Omar/Reuters]
“The Trump administration is definitely endangering lives by deporting people to places like Somalia,” says Marc Prokosch, a senior lawyer at Prokosch Law, a firm in Minnesota that specialises in immigration cases.
“The balancing test for elected officials is whether it is worth it when considering our legal obligations [such the Convention Against Torture] and our moral and ethical obligations, compared to the obligations of protecting the safety and security of United States citizens,” he tells Al Jazeera, referring to the argument that migrants accused of violent offences should be deported for the safety of Americans.
Other immigration lawyers representing Somalis in the US have also voiced concerns, saying many of their clients are “terrified”, including exiled Somali journalists. One lawyer in Minnesota said in December that dozens of Somali asylum seekers have fled into neighbouring Canada over fears of an ICE clampdown.
Meanwhile, Human Rights Watch has cautioned that Temporary Protected Status – which protects foreign nationals from “unsafe” countries from deportation – may not be renewed for Somalis under the new Trump administration.
‘I saw the lifeless bodies of my friends’
Like Mukhtar, Anwar also fled Somalia during the civil war in the 1990s. His childhood memories of the country are bleak, he tells Al Jazeera, recounting one day that stands out in his mind.
“I was playing outside [in Mogadishu] with a couple friends, then we found an oval-shaped object on the ground. That’s when my mother called me in for Asr [afternoon Muslim] prayer,” Anwar recounts. “And then I heard a large explosion.
“Everyone from our neighbourhood came rushing outside, including me. I then saw the lifeless bodies of my three friends strewn on the dirt road … They died from the oval object they were playing with.
“Years later, when I matured, then did I only realise it was a grenade we were playing with and my mother’s call to prayer is what saved me,” he says.
Not long after that day, Anwar’s older brother was murdered by armed fighters. That was the last straw for his family, he says. His mother sent him to Kenya in 1997, before he and his older sister moved to the US as refugees.
But in the US, Anwar got involved in crime and violence, ultimately being jailed for 10 years for robbery in a state prison in Missouri.
Soon after he was released, he once again found himself in handcuffs – this time on a deportation flight to Somalia in April 2018.
Anwar fled Somalia for the US as a child, but was deported back there in 2018
Returning to Mogadishu after decades, he found himself in unfamiliar terrain.
“When I had the chains removed after arriving [in Mogadishu] is when it hit me: I was free but I really wasn’t free,” Anwar says, feeling like he was still imprisoned by his traumatic childhood memories.
Anwar started having flashbacks of past experiences in Somalia. To make matters worse, Mogadishu was still in a protracted state of conflict, and he felt death was a daily reality.
When he made his way to his father’s house to reconnect with relatives he hadn’t seen in more than 20 years, he saw his siblings shaking hands and laughing with armed soldiers sitting on top of a pick-up truck mounted with an anti-aircraft gun.
“As a child [in Somalia] during the civil war, these kinds of people [armed men] were feared,” he says, “but now many of them wear uniforms, have allegiances to the state and are tasked with security.
“The same thing [guns] my mother was shielding me from when she sent me away to the refugee camps in Kenya as a child have become a part of everyday life.”
‘Every road I take can lead to death’
In March 2018, when Mukhtar’s plane landed in Mogadishu, he also found a society he couldn’t understand and a language he knew little of.
“It felt like starting life from scratch all over again,” he says.
Many Somali deportees from the US don’t have family members to return to because they’ve either been killed in the continuing three-decade-long conflict or fled the country and never returned, Mukhtar says.
“When you don’t have no one to come home to or a place to go, it leaves many deportees vulnerable and might force some to resort to crime as a means of survival.”
“With every step you think you’re going to die,” Mukhtar says
Upon returning to the city, Mukhtar saw tall apartment buildings, condominiums and paved roads in Mogadishu. It was different from the bullet-riddled buildings and bombed-out infrastructure he saw on television, he thought. But the realities of the war were around him in other ways, as he would soon find out.
“In Mogadishu, explosions are reality and can happen any moment … You can be walking down the street and an explosion can take your life. In this city, there aren’t warnings before bombings, only screams and cries that come after,” he says.
At first, Mukhtar settled in an old family home in the Waberi district – an upscale area home to government employees, security officials, diaspora returnees and locals working for international NGOs. But even areas that are deemed safe are not, he says.
One sweltering day, Mukhtar looked out of his window as a group of men played dominos, labourers trekked through a construction site, and young women sold tea outside.
“I was thinking of walking down the street to get cigarettes but I felt kind of lazy and decided to stay home,” Mukhtar says, “[then] I heard a very loud explosion.”
He later learned that the blast took place on the same road he always walked down.
“I could have died if I didn’t choose to stay home that day. I was lucky but you never know when you’ll meet the same fate as those caught up in that explosion,” he says.
“Every road I take can lead to death, and with every step, you think you’re going to die.”
‘No opportunities’
Added to the precarious security situation in Somalia is a lack of opportunities, deportees say.
Youth make up an estimated 70 percent of Somalia’s population, yet the country has a nearly 40 percent youth unemployment rate.
“There are no opportunities here and we don’t have a stable country,” says Mukhtar, who is unemployed. “If you’re a deportee, it’s much worse.”
Several deportees from the US now living in Mogadishu have joined the police or army
Some deportees who speak both English and Somali have found work as interpreters, but most do not as they have lost their mother tongue in the years abroad.
Meanwhile, several have joined the police force or national army upon returning to Somalia.
“Many of these guys being deported from the US are coming to Somalia after serving 10 or 15-year prison terms,” Mukhtar says.
When they join the police or army, “they get $200 a month as a salary”.
Mukhtar has, at times, contemplated joining the police or the army, but decided against it.
“When you’re wearing a uniform and carrying a gun, you don’t know who or when someone is going to take your life,” he says.
Aside from threats to their physical safety, the cultural chasm between deportees and their countrymen also weighs on them.
Mukhtar says stigma from members of the community is something he still faces, despite having been back for several years.
“The tattoos I got at a young age also came back to haunt me,” he adds, saying that tattooing is viewed as alien or taboo by many in the deeply conservative Somali Muslim society, and that he’s even been verbally abused at a mosque when he pulled up his sleeves to perform ablution before prayers.
‘The card I’ve been dealt’
Anwar has also faced stigma.
Anwar now drives a rickshaw to make a living in Mogadishu
“When I first came here, I stuck out,” he says, also mentioning his tattoos, which he has started to cover up.
“Everything from the way I walked to the way I spoke Somali. Everyone knew I wasn’t a local and when they found out I was deported from the US, they looked at me as if I was the guy who dropped the ball at the finish line.”
Being away in the US and far from Somali customs, culture and language all contributed to difficulties readjusting to life in Somalia.
“I didn’t adapt to this environment by choice. It was forced upon me, the day I arrived in chains,” he says.
He has even found himself stopped by intelligence officials and cross-questioned about where he’s from and what he’s doing here, he says.
“I asked myself how long is this going to go on,” he laments.
Still, he is determined to adjust to his new life.
“I changed my ways, got married and [now] drive a rickshaw to get by. I try my best, but the hostility from some members of my community … makes living in an already hostile environment even more hostile,” he says.
“But I don’t blame them for their ignorance,” Anwar adds. “This is the card I’ve been dealt and I have to make the best of it.”
As a new electoral commission looms, fear grips while Irro’s reform agenda reshapes the battlefield ahead of municipal and House of Representatives polls.
The real war for Somaliland’s future won’t be fought in presidential palaces or televised debates—it will be decided at the ballot box in 2026, when voters return to elect a new House of Representatives and local councils across the nation. On the surface, it looks like just another electoral cycle. But beneath that calm, insiders whisper: this one will shake the political foundations of Somaliland.
Why? Because this is the first major test of President Irro’s new vision of governance, meritocracy, and institutional integrity. The old script of tribal patronage, inherited seats, and rubber-stamp politics is facing its final act. The parliamentary and local council elections won’t just install new officials; they will reveal whether Somaliland is ready to transition into a mature democracy that rewards brains over bloodlines.
And the establishment is terrified.
Election Commission in Flux Behind closed doors, a major shift is already underway. The current National Electoral Commission (NEC), is quietly preparing to step aside. Sources close to the presidency confirm that discussions for appointing a new, reformed Election Commission are already in motion—and the implications are massive.
KAAH new opposition party that once mastered the art of backdoor deals and local strongman control is panicking.
From Local Power to National Symbolism In Somaliland, local elections are anything but local. They are breeding grounds for national leaders, testing grounds for policy, and platforms for party influence. A clean sweep in the municipal vote not only reshapes local governance—it rewrites the national political narrative.
President Irro knows this. His administration has quietly backed new political actors and independent candidates with clean records, strong ideas, and zero clan baggage. These candidates—many of them young professionals, women, and former civil society leaders—are preparing to challenge the dinosaurs of Somaliland politics.
2026: The Year Clan Politics Dies? Make no mistake: 2026 could mark the symbolic end of politics by clan and the beginning of real accountability. If the new electoral commission is appointed in time, and if voters embrace change over nostalgia, the results will redraw Somaliland’s political map.
This election won’t just elect representatives. It will test the credibility of Somaliland’s democratic claim before the world. It will determine whether Hargeisa’s promise of peace and governance is more than just rhetoric.
And for the old guard, it’s the beginning of the end.
Because after 2026, there may be no more hiding behind family names, no more bought ballots, no more “we were here first” excuses. The next generation of leaders is coming. And this time, they’re coming for real change.
Somali officers join PLA-led exchange as Beijing ramps up defense diplomacy and supplies African armies with Chinese-made weapons.
Beijing has rolled out the red carpet for Africa’s next generation of military leaders—and Somalia is at the front of the line. Nearly 100 officers from over 40 African countries, including Somalia, have touched down in China for a 10-day defense diplomacy blitz that is equal parts charm offensive and strategic maneuver.
Hosted by the Chinese Ministry of National Defense and anchored at the PLA’s elite National University of Defense Technology, the exchange includes base tours, joint strategy sessions, and leadership workshops from May 6–15. It’s China’s fourth such program, but this one arrives at a critical time: Somalia’s armed forces are rearming, reorienting—and now, reengaging with Beijing.
The Somali National Army’s participation comes just weeks after it took delivery of Chinese-built ZFB-05 armored vehicles via the African Union. Although AU-branded, their Chinese origin is no accident. Beijing has quietly become a key player in African military logistics, especially where Western support has waned.
This exchange is not just about optics. China is offering hard power too: a billion-yuan military aid package, 6,000 troops to be trained, and an additional 1,000 police officers slated for capacity-building. Beijing is pitching itself not just as a friend—but as a defense partner willing to train, equip, and engage.
And it’s working. From the Red Sea to the Sahel, more African uniforms are being stitched with Chinese assistance. For Somalia, a country rebuilding its army from scratch, the promise of advanced training and modern gear—without Western political strings—is seductive.
China’s defense diplomacy in Africa is no longer subtle. It’s a strategic playbook: train elites, equip partners, and lock in loyalty through long-term military-to-military ties. The presence of Somali officers in this exchange isn’t just a photo op—it’s a snapshot of Africa’s shifting defense alliances.
In a major escalation along the Line of Control, India’s military on Wednesday launched Operation Sindoor, striking nine targets in Pakistan-administered Kashmir (PoK) and Punjab province. New Delhi said its precision missile strikes hit “terrorist infrastructure…from where attacks against India were planned and directed,” deliberately avoiding Pakistani military bases to minimize civilian harm.
Pakistani forces responded within hours, claiming to have downed five Indian warplanes and shot down several missiles. Islamabad confirmed at least eight civilians killed and 35 wounded in PoK locations including Muzaffarabad and Kotli, as well as the city of Bahawalpur in Punjab, where a mosque was struck.
Both sides have since exchanged heavy shelling and small-arms fire along multiple sectors of the contested frontier. India’s Ministry of Defence emphasized that its action was “focused, measured, and non-escalatory,” while Pakistan’s army vowed to continue responding to any further incursions.
UN Secretary-General António Guterres called for “maximum restraint” from both nuclear-armed neighbors. U.S. President Donald Trump expressed concern over the clashes, calling them “a shame” and urging an immediate de-escalation.
Analysts warn that rising domestic pressures in both capitals—fueled by last month’s brutal attack on tourists in Indian Kashmir—risk dragging the region into a wider confrontation. For now, both governments appear locked in a dangerous tit-for-tat, with civilians on both sides bearing the brunt of renewed hostilities.
Trump Halts Yemen Bombings as Oman Brokers US-Houthi Ceasefire: Red Sea Tensions Ease Amid Diplomatic Shift
President Donald Trump announced Tuesday that the United States would immediately halt its air campaign in Yemen after a ceasefire was brokered between Washington and the Houthi movement by Oman. The move signals a major de-escalation in the Red Sea, where Houthi attacks on shipping had threatened global commerce and pulled the US into daily strikes.
“The Houthis have announced to us that they don’t want to fight anymore,” Trump told reporters at the White House during a joint appearance with Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney. “They just don’t want to fight, and we will honor that.” Trump claimed the Houthis had “capitulated” and pledged to stop targeting international shipping.
Oman’s Foreign Minister Badr Albusaidi confirmed the breakthrough, posting on X that Muscat’s mediation had resulted in a ceasefire agreement ensuring that neither side would target the other, including in the Bab al-Mandab Strait. “This guarantees freedom of navigation and international commercial flow,” he added.
The US State Department clarified that the agreement covers Houthi operations in Yemeni waters and against American interests, but does not extend to the group’s confrontation with Israel. The Houthis, aligned with Iran and entrenched in northern Yemen, began attacking Red Sea shipping in late 2023, linking their operations to solidarity with Palestinians amid the war in Gaza.
Senior Houthi leader Mohammed Ali al-Houthi responded cautiously, writing on X that Trump’s words would be “evaluated on the ground first,” and reaffirmed the group’s stance that its operations are tied to Israel’s actions in Gaza.
This diplomatic pause comes just hours after Israel struck Yemen’s Sanaa airport and the vital port city of Hodeidah, following a Houthi missile strike near Tel Aviv’s Ben Gurion Airport. The Israeli military accused the Houthis of direct involvement in war against the Jewish state, raising fears of a broader regional explosion.
Behind the scenes, sources suggest Iran may have helped influence the Houthi de-escalation, possibly as part of broader US-Iran nuclear talks where sanctions relief is being discussed in exchange for curbs on Iran’s nuclear program.
As one analyst put it: “This isn’t just a ceasefire in Yemen. It’s a pressure valve release in the entire Gulf security architecture.”
What remains uncertain is whether the Houthis will halt attacks on Israel and whether Israel itself will respect the US-Houthi ceasefire framework. For now, though, the airstrikes pause—and diplomacy takes a tentative step forward.
Beijing is baiting for war. And this week, it came knocking hard.
Beijing ramps up gray zone warfare as Taiwan scrambles jets, ships, and missiles to confront PLA provocation across multiple fronts.
Between Sunday and Monday, Taiwan tracked eight Chinese naval warships and six military aircraft encroaching upon its territory — four of which breached the Taiwan Strait median line. This isn’t just another fly-by. This is an orchestrated gray-zone campaign, a relentless psychological siege designed to break Taiwan without firing the first bullet — yet.
(MND image)
Taipei responded with immediate force projection: scrambling fighter jets, deploying naval patrols, and activating coastal missile systems. China’s chessboard is no longer virtual. This is the PLA leaning into escalation, tactically encircling the island from the north, southwest, and east. These aren’t drills — they’re pre-invasion rehearsals dressed in deniability.
Gray zone warfare? It’s a pretty term for slow strangulation. Since 2020, the PLA has increased military harassment with nearly daily intrusions, eroding Taiwan’s reaction time and testing its defense resolve. Beijing is normalizing intimidation, softening global outrage, and prepping its forces for a flash war the world might not be ready to stop.
But Taiwan isn’t blinking.
This isn’t just about sovereignty. It’s about showing the region that a free island democracy will not be slowly choked into submission. And every radar ping, missile battery activated, and warship intercepted is a signal to Xi Jinping: Taiwan’s military is alert, lethal, and tired of warnings.
Two Shenyang J-16 fighter jets take off. (China Ministry of National Defense photo)
China is building up to something far more dangerous. With the South China Sea fortified and PLA Navy fleets prowling in strategic arcs, Taiwan may soon face a full-spectrum blockade or a sudden precision strike designed to collapse its command-and-control grid.
And while Washington watches, Taipei is already in the crosshairs. The countdown to a forced reunification may have already started.
War is no longer theoretical. It’s airborne. It’s on the water. It’s in the strait.
Yemen’s Iran-backed Houthi rebels target Ben Gurion Airport — Netanyahu promises “many bangs” in a war that’s just getting started.
The Houthis just crossed Israel’s red line. After a missile hit near Ben Gurion Airport, PM Netanyahu pledges relentless retaliation. “Not one bang — but many,” he says. Airlines flee, but Israel is preparing for war.
A plume of smoke. Screams inside Ben Gurion International Airport. Cancelled flights from the U.S. and Europe. This is what happens when Iran’s proxies cross the line — and now, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu says they’ll pay the price.
“This isn’t over,” Netanyahu declared in a chilling video on Telegram. “It won’t happen in one bang. There will be many bangs.”
His warning followed a missile strike by Yemen’s Houthi rebels — a direct hit near Israel’s most vital air hub. The Houthis, emboldened by Iranian support and hardened by years of civil war, have now extended their warpath from the Red Sea all the way into Israeli airspace.
Their military spokesman bragged that Ben Gurion is “no longer safe for air travel.” In response, Delta, Lufthansa, ITA, Air France, and even Ryanair grounded flights. This is no longer a local threat — this is a message to the world: Israel is under fire, and air travel is no longer immune.
But now, the world watches as Netanyahu loads the next phase.
This isn’t just about Hamas. It’s not just about Gaza. This is a regional war — and the Houthis, with drones and missiles, have joined the Axis of Resistance.
Back in March, President Donald Trump ordered U.S. airstrikes on Houthi positions to protect global shipping. But this weekend’s missile shows that wasn’t enough. Israel is now expected to unleash a direct response — with devastating consequences for Yemen’s rebel regime.
The message from Netanyahu is unmistakable: There will be no safe havens — not in Gaza, not in Lebanon, not in Sana’a.
The era of strategic patience is over. From Tehran to Yemen, anyone betting on Israel backing down is about to discover what “many bangs” really means.
The Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) is entering treacherous political terrain as the government moves to strip former President Joseph Kabila of his lifetime immunity to prosecute him for alleged war crimes and treason. Justice Minister Constant Mutamba announced on Wednesday that authorities have requested the Senate lift Kabila’s protections so he can face trial for allegedly backing the M23 rebel insurgency in the east.
According to Mutamba, the attorney general of the army has presented evidence implicating Kabila in mass atrocities, including crimes against humanity and the orchestration of insurrectional movements. These developments come amid renewed violence in the eastern provinces, where M23 rebels have seized key cities such as Goma and Bukavu, displacing millions and killing an estimated 3,000 people.
Kabila, who ruled from 2001 to 2019 after inheriting power following the assassination of his father, denies the accusations. He returned to the DRC last month, visiting Goma under the pretext of participating in peace efforts. However, the Tshisekedi administration alleges he is stoking conflict to destabilize the country.
Ferdinand Kambere, a top official in Kabila’s People’s Party for Reconstruction and Democracy (PPRD), dismissed the allegations as political persecution. “These mistakes that those in power keep making against the former president… show that the regime is nearing its end,” Kambere claimed.
The M23 insurgency has become a flashpoint for regional conflict, with reports from UN experts confirming support from approximately 4,000 Rwandan troops. Despite claims of a truce, fighting persists in South Kivu, exacerbating what is already one of the world’s most dire humanitarian crises.
If the Senate approves the request, Kabila would become the first Congolese former president to face prosecution. The political stakes are enormous: the move could either be a watershed moment for accountability or trigger deeper instability in a country still scarred by decades of war and foreign interference.
Top stories
Leaked Memo Exposes Erdogan’s Psychological Operations to Cover Scandals and Crush Dissent
A bombshell revelation has shaken Turkish politics: a leaked internal directive from the Erdogan government’s Directorate of Communications has exposed a state-sanctioned blueprint for psychological operations designed to manipulate public opinion, suppress dissent, and deflect attention from deepening scandals involving President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s inner circle.
The leaked document, reportedly authored by Communications Director Fahrettin Altun, lays out a systematic strategy for framing domestic and international crises as foreign plots, disinformation campaigns, and opposition conspiracies. The memo, cited publicly by Republican People’s Party (CHP) leader Özgur Özel and verified by multiple Turkish media outlets, reads like a handbook for authoritarian information warfare.
Mafia, Money Laundering, and Murders
At the heart of the memo is an effort to reframe explosive allegations involving Halil Falyalı, a mafia-linked businessman murdered in 2022, whose financial networks reportedly laundered drug and betting profits across Cyprus, Turkey, and the UK with state backing. Claims from whistleblower Cemil Önal, Falyalı’s former accountant who accused Erdogan family members of participating in this criminal enterprise, were to be dismissed as “foreign intelligence plots” according to Altun’s directive.
The stakes escalated further when Önal was found shot dead in The Hague on May 1st, fueling suspicion of state-sanctioned silencing. Altun’s memo advised framing the killing as another “coordinated international smear” orchestrated by the Gülen movement.
Tactics of Suppression and Control
The memo’s reach extends far beyond scandal management:
- Following the Istanbul earthquake, Altun instructed media allies to praise AKP’s housing reforms while blaming the opposition CHP for stalling urban transformation.
- In response to the arrest of Istanbul Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu, Altun urged pro-government voices to avoid political framing and focus instead on “illegality and corruption,” in what many view as a blatant attempt to neutralize Erdogan’s most formidable political challenger.
- The directive even sought to criminalize May Day labor protests in Taksim Square, branding worker organizations as extremist threats.
The Propaganda State Grows
Since its creation in 2018, the Directorate of Communications has morphed into a bloated propaganda ministry. Its budget has exploded from 344 million Turkish lira ($9.9 million) in 2019 to 6.1 billion lira ($175 million) in 2025, exceeding funding for national defense and education institutions. Its staff has grown nearly threefold to over 1,600 employees, many of whom are allegedly deployed to steer narratives online and across state-aligned media.
Altun, the architect of this information machine, is now a central symbol of Erdogan’s authoritarian media control. His influence spans Turkey’s press, foreign diplomacy, and even corporate boards. The leaked memo confirms what critics have long warned: Turkey’s state media apparatus is not merely dysfunctional—it is weaponized.
This memo is not just a smoking gun. It’s a declaration of disinformation war from within the palace walls.
Exposed: Suspected Nuclear Weapons Facility Unmasked
Inside Somaliland’s Strategic Cabinet Reshuffle – Empty Suits Are Out
Forgotten Allies: Somaliland’s WWII Heroes Still Await Recognition
Saudi Arabia’s Billion-Dollar Bid for Eritrea’s Assab Port
Operation Geel Exposes the Truth: International Community’s Reluctance to Embrace Somaliland as a Strategic Ally
Somaliland and UAE Elevate Ties to Comprehensive Strategic Partnership
-
Analysis2 months agoSaudi Arabia’s Billion-Dollar Bid for Eritrea’s Assab Port
-
ASSESSMENTS1 month agoOperation Geel Exposes the Truth: International Community’s Reluctance to Embrace Somaliland as a Strategic Ally
-
Somaliland3 months agoSomaliland and UAE Elevate Ties to Comprehensive Strategic Partnership
-
Africa1 year agoHow Somaliland Could Lead the Global Camel Milk Industry
-
Analysis1 year agoIran escalates conflict, attacking Israel; US forces help Israel to intercept Iranian projectiles
-
Analysis3 weeks agoFrom Cell to Summit: The Prisoner Who Became Syria’s President
-
Top stories11 months agoGunmen Kill 11 in Southeastern Nigeria Attack, Army Reports
-
Analysis1 year agoIsrael and Iran on Edge: Tensions Escalate Amidst Rising Threats