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What does it take to become an American? In 2015, This American Life told the story of a Somali refugee who was finally issued a visa to come and live in the United States. “This big smile was on my face. I’ve never had such a big smile,” Abdi Nor Iftin said at the time.
Iftin’s long road to the US began when he was only a child in Mogadishu, watching American movies and teaching himself English, while brutality and war raged around him. In his new memoir, Call Me American, he tells his story from the beginning: with his nomadic parents and their now-unimaginably peaceful, pastoral life.
“She had no idea that the country she was living in was called Somalia,” Iftin says of his mother. “She had always told me, ‘You know, Abdi, there’s only two days: The day that you’re born and the day that you die. Everything else is just grazing and hanging out with the animals.'” Life was so easy, he says, before drought and famine wiped everything out.
Interview Highlights
On his first memories of Somalia’s long-running civil war
I was six years old when the civil war started, militias started pouring into the city, and death and killings and torture, and I just cried. The smell of Mogadishu, it was just the smell of gunpowder. And that had been sticking with me forever … I think this is the most touching memory that I can remember, to have our youngest sister die, and we said, “Good. That is so easy for her,” and then I was jealous. I was jealous because that was the time when our feet were swollen, our bellies were empty. It was a feeling that you could die any time … and I looked at my other sister, and she was just eating sand. And I think that’s the stories that people don’t hear about.
On his encounters with Marines in Mogadishu
I still say they stole my heart, because it was the very first time that I saw people with guns, and the guns were pointed up in the air, not in my face. Then they were coming and giving us sweets — I wanted these people to stick around, I wanted these people to be part of my life.
On being targeted by Islamists because of his nickname, “Abdi the American”
Unfortunately, I still believe that Islamists were born out of the American involvement somewhere in the Middle East, and the phrases that they had used to attract young men of my age was just “America.” They said, “They are the enemies of Islam” … surprisingly, I was out on the streets, defending President Bush, I don’t even know why I did that. But I was defending him, and blaming Osama bin Laden for all the problems. But I thought, to me it was just expressing myself, but then it got me into trouble, and I received a phone call saying, “You got to stop and drop that nickname, or we’re going to kill you.”
On whether Americans know how hard it is to get a visa to come here
I don’t think they do! You know, Americans take so many things for granted. For example, I came to the U.S. through the diversity immigrant visa lottery, which [President Trump] would like to cancel. But if it was not the diversity lottery, I would have never come to America, never. I had been an American since I saw those Marines, and my nickname is going to be my nationality, very soon … When I wake up in the morning, I say, oh, I’m so lucky — I have arrived here before America had turned its back against the rest of the world. If this had happened when I was hiding myself from Islamic terrorists, just trying to come to America and become an American and all that, it would be a disappointment, it would be a betrayal by the United States. Because the way I understand is that America is open to the rest of the world. And I am here to make America great. I did not come here to take anything. I came here to contribute, and to offer and to give.
At least eight Somali American women won races in Tuesday’s U.S. midterm elections, results show.
Ilhan Omar, the most prominent Somali American politician, held on to her U.S. House of Representatives seat in Minnesota’s 5th Congressional District. This will be the third term for Omar, who was first elected in 2018.
In Minnesota state races, Zaynab Mohamed was elected to the Senate, becoming the first woman of Somali descent elected to the chamber, according to MPR News. Meanwhile, Hodan Hassan defended her seat in the state House of Representatives.
Other Somali American women running for offices in Minnesota were victorious, including Fathia Feerayarre, who won a seat on the Minneapolis Public Schools board.
In neighboring North Dakota, Hamida Dakane also made history, becoming the first woman of Somali descent elected to the state House. Born in northeastern Kenya’s Somali region, Dakane, who won Fargo’s District 10, came to the U.S. in 2011.
In Maine, Deqa Dhalac, who made history last year as the first Somali American mayor for a U.S. city, South Portland, has now been elected to the state House after handily defeating Republican opponent Michael Dougherty. Mana Abdi, who was running unopposed for a seat representing Lewiston, Maine, joins her in the House.
In Ohio, Munira Abdullahi and Ismail Mohamed, a man, won seats in the state House. Minnesota and Ohio have among the largest Somali American populations in the U.S.
Speaking to her supporters Tuesday night, Omar highlighted the significance of victories achieved by Somali American women.
“There was a time when we believed that women with a hijab could not get elected,” she said. “Tonight, Minnesota is electing three new women who are wearing hijab. That shows if you trust in yourself, if your people trust you, stand with you, everything is possible.”
Mohamed, one of the hijab-wearing Minnesota winners, expressed hope that more Somali Americans will run for office.
“I’m very happy with this victory tonight, thank God,” she told VOA Somali. “This is a victory for me, for my family and for the Somali people. God willing, a lot of men and women will follow me and will come through.”
Shukri Olow, who lost a state House seat outside Seattle, Washington, told VOA Somali that she was inspired to run by the women before her, including Omar, Hassan and Dhalac.
In an interview with VOA Somali, Dhalac confirmed that when she visited Washington in 2018, Olow asked her questions about running for office.
“She said she wanted to run for the open seats in her area or seats that will be open in the future in Washington state,” Dhalac recounted. “I encouraged her to do it. Many women say we will do this, we will do this tomorrow, we will do this next year. I said to her, if you want to compete, just do it.”
The success of Somali American female candidates in the U.S. eclipses that of female aspirants for elected office in Somalia.
Female politicians in Somalia are so disenfranchised that in 2016, Somalia’s federal and regional leaders had to start allocating a specific quota of seats in parliament. But women still were never given the opportunity to get the 30% quota promised.
In 2016, Somali women occupied 24% of the 329 seats in the two houses of parliament. In 2022, female candidates secured only 20%, well short of the 30% quota.
Fawzia Yusuf Haji Adam, the only female presidential candidate in the May 15 presidential election, got just a single vote — her own.
“I did not get the support I’m sure [Somali American women] are getting when they stand [for office], because here the culture and other factors are causing a lack of encouragement [for women],” she said.
Adam welcomed the success of Somali American women.
“This is a victory for Somali women in the diaspora,” she said. “I congratulate them, I encourage them, and we are proud of them.”
She said women in the diaspora, including those in the United States, Europe, and Canada, have opportunities that women in Somalia do not have.
“What made it possible is, first, the places they live in, where men and women are viewed equally, where they get encouragement from the schools, from the university, and from the parents, and they can see achievements by other women,” she said.
“Over there, the neighborhood they live in is going to elect them when they see the person is trustworthy, honest, working and clean. White and Black would vote for that.”
Harun Maruf contributed reporting from Washington.
Featuring Dega Nalayeh, a managing director and private-client advisor at Bank of America’s private bank.
Dega Nalayeh told Insider that she’s currently climbing Mount Kilimanjaro. She’s doing it to honor her sister, Somali-Canadian journalist Hodan Nalayeh, who was killed during a terrorist attack at a hotel in Somalia in July 2019.
Dega Nalayeh and 14 other climbers have so far raised more than $ 230,000 for the nonprofit Give to Learn to Grow Foundation. Proceeds help underserved communities in Somaliland.
Today — when not climbing mountains — she is (figuratively) moving them for the ultra wealthy. Nalayeh is a managing director and advisor at Bank of America’s private bank, where she manages $6.4 billion in client assets.
She built that book from scratch, relying on tried-and-tested word-0f-mouth strategies. Her savvy networking capabilities have also come in handy, particularly when she met a professional basketball player with the Atlanta Hawks, whose identity she could not disclose.
Climbing the highest mountain in Africa sounds easy when considering the adversity Nalayeh has faced. She moved to Canada from Somalia at just 11 years of age. While her father worked as a parking attendant, she ran a newspaper route as a teenager.
Later, she moved from Georgia to California for her husband. But when Nalayeh joined BofA’s private bank in 2006, she was divorced with a two-year-old son.
Nalayeh, who is 49, told Insider that she doubted her ability to be a rainmaker for the bank at a time when she was dealing with a divorce and a toddler. But in six months, she landed a high-net-worth client.
The banker leads a team of 13 alongside Avi Cohen, a fellow MD and private client advisor who was once her rival within the bank.
Most of their clients come from the entertainment and media industries, as well as tech, real estate, and healthcare.
Nalayeh is also focused on finding more women clients, including those who are overwhelmed by responsibilities found both at home and in the workplace.
Co-founder of the Somali American Bar Association. President of the Minnesota Association of Black Lawyers. Amran has used her professional success to create opportunities for other Somali attorneys—and the people they serve.
Amran Farah has had a busy past year.
A few weeks after achieving that professional success, she accepted an invitation to help select the next U.S. Attorney and U.S. Marshal in Minnesota, The U.S. Attorney represents the United States in federal criminal cases. The U.S. Marshal serves as the enforcement arm of the courts and is involved in most law enforcement initiatives. Both posts typically turn over when a new president takes office, and together they exert great influence over what types of law enforcement take priority in Minnesota.
The second week of February, U.S. Senators Amy Klobuchar and Tina Smith announced the members they invited to join the Federal Law Enforcement Selection Committee. Chaired by Ramsey County Attorney John Choi, the seven-member committee reviews applications and recommends candidates to the senators. Klobuchar and Smith will then bring those selections to President Joe Biden for consideration and approval.
Smith praised the selection committee that includes Amran: “These Minnesota community leaders will help run an inclusive and fair selection process to name top federal law enforcement candidates in Minnesota,” Smith said in a statement.
Amran said she hopes to ensure the selection of candidates who will serve all Minnesotans, especially those who come from the same communities as Amran. This new connection to the workings of government marks another step in Amran’s rapid rise in the legal profession. Throughout her still-young career, Amran has used her personal success to create opportunities for other Somali attorneys—and the people they serve.
‘I come to this work differently’
Amran was born in Somalia and arrived in the United States as a child. She said she has always held a strong presence in her community since she comes from a large family. Amran has 10 siblings and 34 nieces and nephews. Add that crew to her network of in-laws, Amran joked, and the whole family could make up a voting bloc.
That connection to extended family—and community—also inspired Amran’s commitment to create opportunity for immigrants and people of color.
Amran began to take an active role in the Somali community while studying at what is now called the Mitchell Hamline School of Law. There, she helped create the Somali American Bar Association, an organization for Somali American law students and attorneys. She graduated law school in 2013. Amran next served as the president of the Minnesota Association of Black Lawyers. Through this role, Amran got involved in helping protesters over the summer.
“If I felt like the reason the senators were inviting me is so they can just check off the boxes—oh, we have a Black person, we have a Muslim person, we have a Somali person, we have a woman—if I really truly felt that, then I would not be part of it.”
Making law partner in three years
A large part of Amran’s public standing comes from her rapid professional rise. In 2018, Amran started work at Greene Espel, a boutique firm that represents prominent local companies like 3M, Ecolab, and the Minnesota Vikings. This winter, she became a partner—after just three years at Greene Espel.
According to Guled Ibrahim, the current president of the Somali American Bar Association, Amran is the first Somali attorney in the state to become a partner at a major law firm.
“The culmination of Amran’s achievements is her recent achievement of becoming partner,” Guled said. “She’s a trailblazer. And now we have an image of what it means to be a partner at a top law firm.”
A legal connector for George Floyd protestors
In April, Amran had a baby boy—during a pandemic. It’s been difficult not spending time with her large family and having to maintain social distancing. Her siblings hadn’t seen Amran’s son until he was about 6 months old. Some of her nieces and nephews didn’t believe her son was real, Amran joked.
Amran’s day starts at about 8:30 when her son wakes up. She begins working and takes breaks for the baby throughout the day. She wraps her work up by 6 p.m. and spends time with her husband and her son. Then, when her son falls asleep in the evening, Amran logs back on for the night.
Then-Officer Derek Chauvin killed George Floyd in May. During the uprising that followed, protesters on the ground struggled to get legal representation after being arrested. Because she was the president of the Minnesota Association of Black Lawyers, she started receiving texts and emails calling for her help. Amran doesn’t practice criminal law, but she helped arrange legal help to protesters by acting as a liaison between her own organization and other local legal rights groups.
Getting everyone into the room
Amran hasn’t just assumed the responsibilities of leadership roles; she’s helped create them.
She served as the president and co-founded the Somali American Bar Association which, at first, brought together Somali law students, attorneys, professors, and judges throughout North America. Eventually, the organization shifted its focus solely to Somali American members: Today, the group includes about 20 attorneys from Minnesota and a growing number of law students.
Guled joined Amran and other law students in creating the organization to unite Somali people in the field, but also to serve as a resource for their own community. From the beginning, Guled said he’s seen the ways Amran uplifts people.
“On the committee, my role is going to be to make sure that the senators and the candidates know that this is an act of service for all Minnesotans,” Amran said. “That includes, Black Minnesotans, Muslim Minnesotans, Somali Minnesotans.”
The friendship between a former Olympian and the college kid he took under his wing shows the power of mentoring — to make both individuals’ lives all the richer.
This story comes to you from the Star Tribune, a partner with Sahan Journal. We will be sharing stories between Sahan Journal and Star Tribune.
In Mohamed Abdi Mohamed’s childhood, Abdi Bile was like a folk hero.
“My mom told me all these stories,” says Mohamed, 26, who was born in Somalia and grew up in a refugee camp. “She told me there’s a Somali who went to America and basically conquered America.”
Bile was a world champion runner, dominating the 1,500-meter race in the late 1980s. He’s also a national legend and the most decorated athlete in the history of Somalia, where a certain make of pickup truck has been dubbed the “Abdi Bile” for its speed. In 2019, Bile quietly moved from Virginia to Minnesota to coach runners and help develop youth in Minneapolis.
But all Mohamed knew was that there was a hero living in his midst when he worked the phones in Minnesota’s Somali American community to get hold of Bile’s cell number. At the time, he was a junior at Macalester College in St. Paul and at the lowest point of his five years in the United States. Homesickness, grief and plummeting grades were leading him to question if coming here on an academic scholarship was worth it.
On a gamble, Mohamed called Abdi Bile.
Shockingly, Abdi Bile picked up.
Mohamed could hardly spit out the words as he told Bile he had just started running for Macalester’s track team — and — would the coach be interested in meeting him one day?
“If I was lucky, I would get to see him even once,” Mohamed remembers thinking.
The next day, Bile showed up at Mohamed’s doorstep in St. Paul. That encounter started a friendship that the two say will continue for the rest of their lives.
When I sat down with them near the home of the Loppet Foundation, where Bile directs competitive running programs, organizes walks for seniors, and introduces Somali American families to cross-country skiing, the 59-year-old former Olympian assured me that the story I wanted to tell — about the power of mentoring — was not just about him.
“Mohamed’s journey is very interesting, from where he started to where he is today — it’s just incredible,” Bile says. “You just see the resiliency of human beings, the struggles they go through, and how they survive if they don’t give up.”
But Bile’s story is remarkable, too. Once a teen standout soccer player, he decided on a whim to join some nearby runners who were training for the 400-meter. He beat them to the finish line, but felt so woozy afterward that he threw up.
Within a week, however, he learned two things about running: If you were good enough, you could win a scholarship to attend college in the United States — and even advance to this thing called the Olympics. When he quit the soccer team, Bile told his coach: “I’m going to the Olympics. I’m going to get a scholarship. I’m going to America. Goodbye!”
Killer workouts and his initial disdain for running did not deter Bile. “I hated it. But I just saw an opportunity: This is my way out. This is my meal ticket.”
Within just a few years, he cashed in on that ticket. He ran on an athletic scholarship at George Mason University in Virginia and competed in his first Olympics — the 1984 games in Los Angeles.
More than 35 years later, he saw echoes of himself — the dedication, the sense of purpose — when he got that phone call from the kid at Macalester.
Mohamed’s journey
Growing up in the sprawling Dadaab refugee camp in Kenya, Mohamed used to walk 4 kilometers to fetch water for his family. Whenever a blinking red light in the sky soared past, his mom used to point to the airplane and tell her son this would be his ride out of the camp.
And a scholarship was the only way to catch that ride.
With some diligence and luck, Mohamed earned a scholarship through Blue Rose Compass, a nonprofit that affords gifted young refugees a shot at a university education. It was through this gift that he was able to attend an international boarding school in New Mexico and then Macalester.
Unlike Bile, Mohamed never knew of Somalia’s idyllic beaches or peaceful past, a land rich in history and culture. He was a kid born into civil war, only to learn of his homeland’s halcyon days through stories imparted by his mom and dad.
“In their minds exists a grand country,” he says. “And at the center of this country is Coach Abdi Bile.”
“At least I had a country, a stable life,” Bile muses. “This kid just grew up in a refugee camp. What hope do you have in a refugee camp? A refugee camp is a prison. You have to do whatever it takes to get out of those four walls.”
When Mohamed first called Bile, he was on the cusp of giving up and going home. The second eldest of eight kids, he hadn’t seen his family in five years. He was mourning the death of his uncle, who was struck by a stray bullet in Mohamed’s hometown of Kismayo. His grades were slipping, and he was almost put on academic probation.
“I was starting to feel sorry for myself,” Mohamed recalls. “I was questioning the decisions I made. It feels like you’re living in a virtual reality — you have everything you need, but your family is still living in a refugee camp. I was willing to throw everything away.”
With Bile he forged the kind of connection he couldn’t find anywhere else. “What I needed was some tough love,” Mohamed says.
“He needed my help,” Bile says. “Right away, I could relate to what he’s crying for, what his issues and problems are. Sometimes it’s not a lot — sometimes the person just needs someone to talk to.”
The hardest lap
Bile told Mohamed about his first days in the United States as a college student, so poor he couldn’t cobble together the coins to do his laundry. Bile reminded Mohamed of all the people who were in his corner and invited Mohamed to Bile’s training program for elite runners so he could meet other young Somalis working toward big dreams.
“In running, the hardest is the last lap,” Bile tells me, recalling how he almost abandoned the sport because of injuries. After healing his body through yoga and acupuncture, Bile won a world championship in 1987.
“Sometimes people who quit, they don’t know how close they were to the finish line,” the coach adds.
Mohamed listened to his mentor: — Look what you came from. You’re almost there. You’re here, you’re doing it. This is nothing compared to how far you’ve traveled — and kept putting one foot in front of the other.
His internships and work-study jobs helped pave the way for his family to leave the refugee camp and find an apartment in Nairobi. His siblings now are receiving the kind of education he had only dreamed of while in the camp.
And what about the kid who came so close to throwing it all away? Mohamed graduated from Macalester in December. No one in his family could be at the ceremony, but Abdi Bile, the hero of his parents’ stories, showed up to watch Mohamed cross the stage. Bile says he wouldn’t have missed it for anything.
Mohamed is now reverse-mentoring his coach, encouraging Bile to start an Instagram account so he may ignite a spark for other young people. This week, the recent college grad also started a job as a tech analyst for a global consulting firm with offices in Minneapolis.
As the two recap the highs and lows of the past couple of years, Bile dabs his wet eyes with a carefully folded tissue.
“You did it,” he tells Mohamed. “You have a good job. You’re going to take good care of your brothers and sisters.”
The coach says he wants other young people, those who can trace a whiff of opportunity, to learn from this young man — that they should go ahead and be brave with their lives.
“Mohamed’s story is a good story for our kids here,” Bile adds.
“And so is a world champion helping his people,” Mohamed counters. “How many people can say they have the greatest athlete in the history of their country rooting for them?”
Fartun Osman, the CEO and head coach of Girls Rock, an all-girls club founded in 2004 that promotes sport for Somali and Muslim girls, will be honoured by the NCAA with the 2022 Legacy Award for her local activism in the Minneapolis area.
The award ceremony is part of the NCAA Men’s and Women’s Final Four festivities.
Osman is one of eight community leaders in the US to be recognized for her contributions to female athletics. She will be awarded a plaque during the semifinal games at the Women’s Final Four in Minneapolis on April 1.
Born in Somalia, Fartun Osman was a rare female basketball player in her native country. She was always active in sports and said that her first love was soccer but pivoted to basketball because of the lack of opportunities for women in the sport.
Osman traveled to other countries as part of the women’s Somali national basketball team as a teenager.
Following the breakout of the civil war in the early 1990s, Fartun emigrated to the US. She quickly discovered similar barriers to entry for Somali and Muslim girls into sports and made it her mission to make sports more equitable for girls who look like her.
She fought hard for the rights of her all-Muslim girl soccer teams to play with their hijabs, and her Girls Rock initiative has coached and mentored over 1,000 girls.
“The 2022 NCAA Legacy honorees are an impressive slate of community leaders and citizens who, through their daily actions, have shown their care and concern for their neighbors,” said Felicia Martin, NCAA senior vice president of inclusion, education and community engagement.
Hamse Warfa presently serving as Deputy Commissioner for Workforce Development, in the Minnesota Department of Employment and Economic Development (MEED) is leaving for a position in the Biden administration.
As a senior advisor in the U.S. State Department, Hamse will play a role in promoting democracy abroad and addressing refugee resettlement.
Hamse first came to the U.S. from Somalia when he was a teenager in 1994. He studied political science and organizational management, and built a career in both the public and private sector.
In 2014, he published his autobiography, America Here I Come: A Somali Refugee’s Quest for Hope.
As a Bush Fellow in 2016, Hamse founded BanQu, a blockchain service to provide access to credit and bank services for refugees. He also founded a consulting group to address poverty and economic opportunities for marginalized people.
Deha Dhalac. Community Activist. Community Leader.
South Portland’s other city councilors, who are all White, elected her in a unanimous vote. The 4th largest city in Maine, is the whitest state in the country and South Portland is 90% White.
In 2018, she ran against a local business owner and won, making history as the first African American and first Muslim elected to the council.
In 2020, she ran unopposed for a second term. The city council selects from among its members who will be mayor, and in November, her colleagues unanimously supported her nomination.
Education / Community Work highlights:
Master’s Degree in Development Policy and Practice, University of New Hampshire
Master’s Degree in Social Work, University of New England
Past Program Manager for The Center for Grieving Children
Former South Portland Schools Community Builder for the Opportunity Alliance
Somali Community Center of Maine
Board president of the Maine Immigrant Rights Coalition
Board member of the Maine Women’s Fund
Family Engagement and Cultural Responsiveness Specialist with the Maine Department of Education
South Portland City Council, District 5 Representative
Safiya Said Khalid (aka) Safiya Khalid . Politician.
Member of Lewiston, Maine City Council (January 06th, 2020) .
First Somali-American elected to the Lewiston City Council, Maine
Youngest ever at age 23, elected to the City Council of Lewiston (Ward 1), Maine
Work:
Gateway Community Services of Maine, Community Coordinator Maine Democratic Party, Grassroots Organizer Maine State House, Clerk Maine Department of Labor, Intern