A Call to the Astute Minds of the Somali Region of Ethiopia to Rewrite Their Place in History

By Mohamud A. Ahmed – Cagaweyne

Prologue: Of Ink, Iron, and Impermanence

In an age obsessed with firepower, where decisions are driven by drones and diplomacy often dances to the beat of deterrence, we must return to a truth buried beneath the rubble of our forgotten libraries: The pen used right is mightier than the nuke.

A nuclear weapon can end a city. A pen can enlighten a civilization. One burns for minutes, the other burns into memory. While the nuke silences, the pen resurrects. While the bomb conquers by fear, the pen convinces by reason. One leaves ashes. The other, archives.

As Victor Hugo once said:

“There is one thing stronger than all the armies in the world, and that is an idea whose time has come.”

And for the Somali Region of Ethiopia—that time is now.

The Somali Region: A Landscape Misunderstood; A Story Untold

For too long, the Somali Region has been viewed through a keyhole of prejudice and security narratives. To some, it remains an arid expanse of insurgency and aid dependency. But this is the consequence of a story untold—or worse, a story hijacked.

It is not the Somali people who lack culture, identity, or vision. It is Ethiopia that lacks access to their full story.

The Somali Region is a place where poetry is currency, where dignity is inherited, and where survival has always demanded both resilience and grace. Yet, a nation that only sees it through headlines will never understand its heart.

“If you don’t tell your story, others will write it for you – and they will never write it in your favor.”

Mathematical Equation: Calculating Power Beyond the Blast Radius

Let us borrow from the language of physics.

• The nuclear bomb = Force × Instant
• The pen = Wisdom × Time

The nuke delivers maximum impact in a moment – and then disappears into silence. But the pen’s influence compounds across decades, across cultures, across consciousness. One operates in fear, the other functions in foresight. One collapses matter; the other expands minds.

True power is not measured in megatons, but in meaning per moment.

Coexistence Is Not a Choice—It’s a Constitutional Imperative

In Ethiopia’s fragile federal mosaic, coexistence is not a political luxury. It is an existential necessity. The Ethiopian state cannot hold if its people do not hear one another. And people cannot be heard if their stories remain untold.

The Somali Region must not wait for permission to narrate. It must be narrated to be understood – not tolerated but embraced.

Let the stories of Fik, Godey, Qabridahare, Dhagaxbuur, and Doolow be read in Addis, Bahir Dar, and Mekelle. Let Amharas, Oromos, Sidamas, and Tigrayans know not just Somali pain – but Somali poetry. Not just Somali history – but Somali humanity.

Because a nation that only sees parts of itself can never be whole.

A Season of Silence, A Future Still Unwritten

All regions of Ethiopia have had moments of inclusion. But the last seven years offered something to the Somali Region that history had never granted before: a ceasefire of soul.

For the first time in over three decades, the region experienced the silence of the gun. Not from surrender, but from strategic pause. Federal non-interference gave room to breathe. For a fleeting moment, the noise of war gave way to the whisper of possibility.

But many now say the moment was underutilized.

The ink didn’t flow. The poets stayed quiet. The intellectuals watched from afar. The trauma was endured – but never archived.

Yet, history is generous to those who write it – even belatedly. What was missed must now be reawakened. What was withheld must now be recorded. Peace, without memory, is fragile. But when documented truth meets collective reflection, then and only then, peace becomes permanent.

The Inconvenient Truth: What Went Wrong Was Not from the Center

If anything went wrong in the last seven years, it was not orchestrated from the center – it emerged from within. This truth may be bitter, but it must be said. For once, the Somali Region was not burdened by central interference. The guns were silenced. The shadows of Shufta and Waryaa – the dehumanizing words that once echoed with violence and fear – began to fade. What we had was rare: serenity. And in serenity, we were given something far more powerful than slogans – we were given a chance.

But opportunity, when not recognized, turns into regret. Had we come together, had we understood what was granted – an open canvas to reimagine governance, dignity, and voice—not only would the Somali Region be in a stronger place today, it might have served as a model for the rest of Ethiopia. A model of how a people once ravaged by conflict could find strength in institutions, beauty in calm, and unity in storytelling.

The sweetness of tranquility is not merely the absence of bullets – it is the presence of possibility. And possibility only blossoms when a society looks inward, takes responsibility, and transforms silence into structure. What was missed then must be reclaimed now—not with blame, but with boldness.

Leadership Must Light the Lamp, Not Block the Window

The region’s leaders must not fear narrative. They must facilitate it. Their legacy must be more than infrastructure – it must be intellectual infrastructure. Roads crumble. But books remain. Flyovers age. But stories endure.

Encouraging young writers, poets, and public intellectuals to tell their stories – not selectively, but genuinely – is not an act of defiance. It is a contribution to Ethiopia’s democratic imagination.

“A society that silences its scribes is a society unprepared for the judgment of history.”

The Somali Region’s truth is not a weapon – it is a window. When opened, it lets in understanding. And when Ethiopian citizens look through it, they will not see a stranger – they will see a sibling.

The Pen Is an Anthem, Not an Apology

Let the Somali Region stop writing footnotes in Ethiopia’s story. Let it write chapters. The pen is not a tool for rebels. It is a scepter for those who refuse to disappear.

Let the poets bleed verse into parchment.
Let the scholars turn silence into scholarship.
Let the elders dictate memoirs of survival.
Let the youth write with unfiltered honesty and visionary hope.

Writing about the Somali experience is not an act of defiance. It is an act of citizenship.

A Final Reckoning: When Minds Write, History Listens

At this critical juncture, the call to action must move beyond poetic symbolism and settle into strategic responsibility. The Somali Region of Ethiopia is not short of bright minds. Its universities are filled with scholars. Its streets echo with the rhythms of poets. Its diaspora speaks multiple tongues yet longs for a common narrative. What it lacks is not capacity – but collective urgency.

The intellectuals of the Somali Region – whether professors in Jigjiga, lawyers in Wardheer, community leaders in Qabridahare, or aspiring students in Dhagaxbuur – must come to terms with a simple truth: the battlefield has changed. It is no longer fought on rugged hills or contested through coercive power. It is now waged in bookshelves, media platforms, policy journals, and public discourse. This is a war of perception, representation, and inclusion – and only those who write, document, and articulate their experiences will shape the terms of engagement.

To hesitate is to allow others to narrate your past, define your present, and distort your future. Writing is no longer a luxury. It is a strategic necessity. The Somali Region must produce not only memories, but manuscripts – not only stories of survival, but blueprints for a shared future.

 Ink, Not Ashes: Restoring Dignity Through Documentation

There is no dignity in silence, especially when the silence is misinterpreted as absence. The Somali Region must now make a conscious decision: to be a region remembered by rumor or to be one recognized through record. It is through ink – not ashes – that a people’s worth is documented, debated, and dignified.

This moment demands documentation of the Somali experience in Ethiopia with intellectual integrity and emotional honesty. It demands stories from elders who remember the eras of oppression and struggle. It demands voices from youth who aspire for a future rooted in inclusion and innovation. It demands that both pain and pride be written in tandem, so that the national consciousness of Ethiopia is not built on selective memory, but on shared understanding.

Writing the Somali story is not about seeking sympathy. It is about affirming presence. It is not about rewriting the past to erase the contributions of others but about restoring a rightful place within the Ethiopian narrative.

For Ethiopia to mature as a federation, it must read itself completely – and that means reading the Somali Region in the voice of its own people.

This is not just a call to write.
It is a call to rewrite the very meaning of being Somali – and being Ethiopian.
Ink it now. Before others ink it for you.

Written by: Mohamud A. Ahmed – Cagaweyne

Columnist, Political Analyst, and Researcher Greenlight Advisors Group, Somali Region of Ethiopia. 

Contact : +251-900644648 

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