SOMALI AMERICAN: ‘I wanted to be underestimated’: How Muna Abdulahi played her way through Netflix’s reality show, ‘The Mole’

Minneapolis poet Muna Abdulahi talks strategy, community and leveraging cultural stereotypes in Netflix’s season two of “The Mole,” where she competed for a $154,000 prize.

Who is the mole? 

For Somali American poet Muna Abdulahi, that question loomed large during her first day on season two of Netflix’s reality game show, “The Mole,” which was filmed in the napier grass fields of western Malaysia. Abdulahi had to figure out who to trust among the other 11 players while aware that one of them might be secretly sabotaging the game, and while navigating cultural differences and working to stay under the radar herself during the six-week filming.

The premise of “The Mole” is simple: contestants work together to build a pot of prize money that only one player will win in the end. Among them is “the mole,” a player tasked with working against the group. After each mental or physical challenge, players take a quiz to identify the mole and the contestant with the lowest score is eliminated. If the mole remains undetected until the end, they win, but if the last player uncovers their identity, that player takes the prize. 

In a game where everyone is out to deceive each other, moments of genuine connection feel like dangerous territory. Off-camera, players share meals, tell stories and laugh together — but beneath the camaraderie, the question remains: Who can you trust when everyone might be lying? 

Abdulahi, who grew up in Willmar, Minnesota, and now lives in Minneapolis, approached the game with a calculated strategy: lean into being underestimated.

“When people first meet me, they see the hijab,” Abdulahi said in a confessional in the first episode. “They see a Muslim woman, somebody who follows other people’s orders, and I’m going to use that to every single advantage.”

Did Abdulahi’s strategy pay off? Watch “The Mole” on Netflix to see how far she goes.

 In an interview with Sahan Journal, Abdulahi reflected on her life as a poet and shared her experience filming the show in July 2023. She discussed what it was like being a Muslim woman in a high-stakes competition balancing trust and suspicion.

The interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Can you share a bit about your journey as a poet in the Twin Cities? What inspired you to start writing? 

I started writing poetry when I was 14. Somalia is known as the nation of poets, so I have family members who are poets, like my grandmother. Being born and raised in the U.S., language was still a barrier because I understood Somali when it was spoken to me but speaking it was a whole other conversation. So, when I was young, there was a part of me that really wanted to find something that connected me to my culture and poetry was it. 

The issue was, I went to predominantly white schools my whole entire life, so a lot of the authors I would read would be old white men. I’m like, “Okay, I have absolutely no ties to these people,” but then I started getting into spoken word poetry and that scene is predominantly BIPOC stories and narratives that I never got to hear growing up. It inspired me to write, and I just never stopped.

How do your experiences as a Muslim woman influence the subjects you write about?

That’s a really good question. I mean, I think everything ties back to our inner child. For me, I never really got to hear BIPOC stories. I still remember the first BIPOC story I read. It was “The Kite Runner.” 

I think when you are not represented in stories, it makes you feel unimportant and as if your experiences are not worthy of being shared. It’s also the media in general. So, my mission when I started writing was to not only give space to our stories, but to give space to the stories that were devalued or silenced or not seen as worthy. 

It feels like there’s two sides of the coin — either our stories are not being shared or, when it is, it’s these perfect stories where Black and brown girls become tokenized and don’t feel worthy unless they’re exceptional. I want to give space to the in-between.

What drew you to “The Mole”? How did you get involved with the show?

I’m a big, big fan of reality TV, specifically reality competition shows like “Big Brother” and “Survivor,” so I’ve always wanted to be a part of it, but I never saw any Muslim people. I remember writing down in my notebook the shows that I want to be a part of, and I had to check off every single one because the structure of the game itself would not meet the necessities and the needs of being a Muslim woman.

In “Survivor,” you’re stranded on this random island and — let’s say you just did a swimming challenge — you’re going to be wet all day, all night. Maybe you have an extra hijab but how would you be able to preserve your values and at the same time play this game? 

It’s the same thing with “Big Brother,” where you’re being filmed 24/7, even when you shower. Even though I love the game, I can’t really do it. What I loved about “The Mole” is that the structure of the game itself is accessible to Muslim women. 

What was it like communicating with producers about what you needed?

So the first thing is prayers. We pray five times a day. The way that these games work is completely fast-paced, so I basically had to tell them, “Hey, I need 10 minutes.” We met in the middle where I was able to move to the side and do my prayers, but that also meant that I was praying in a lot of different places. 

We also didn’t have our phones, but I usually use it to pray at specific times and toward a specific direction to Mecca. I also needed water to make wudu (a cleansing ritual), so there was somebody who literally carried my prayer mat, bottled water and checked the times for me. That was really helpful. It also helped that we were in a Muslim country. There were a lot of prayer rooms already within the city. 

How did you mentally and physically prepare for the show? 

I rewatched a lot of the seasons, and not just the U.S. seasons. I’m also a big fan of the international seasons, so I was watching Netherlands, Belgium and Australia. I wanted to make sure that my game plan was set, but at the same time give myself room to adapt, because that’s the name of the game. 

We don’t really know what we’re getting into. I also prepared by memorizing things, because the objective of the game is, “Who is the mole,” right? We have to remember as much as possible about them: What are they wearing? What color are their shoes? Which car did they get in? 

Those little details would be on the quiz. 

What was your strategy going into the game? 

Originally, my strategy was to play into this stereotype that people have for Muslim women — very timid, shy, quiet, observational, not taking up too much space — so they underestimate me. It worked for that first episode but after that, I had to switch up my game. 

I can’t hide. It’s so much more difficult to hide who you are when you’re with these people all day, but it still worked to my advantage because people still underestimated me. Well, until mid-game when you see them start to question if I was the mole. 

In the first episode, you talked about how people often perceive Muslim women as obedient or timid. As you entered the game and interacted with contestants, did you feel that they had a specific perception of you?

Off the bat, yeah. It was exactly what I thought. I don’t think a lot of people on the show had close Muslim women friends, so I think a lot of the time, people perceive groups of people based on what they see on TV. 

I remember Q [Quaylyn Carter] was like, “Oh my gosh, I thought you were going to be so quiet,” so, I really could have played into that. But Andy (Mintzer) had a lot of knowledge about Muslim culture. Muslim women and men are not supposed to touch the opposite gender’s hand, so I knew that first meeting was going to be so awkward because a lot of people don’t know that, but Andy knew right away.

How did you manage building friendships with contestants while, in the back of your mind, knowing that one of them is sabotaging the game?

To be honest, I came in there like, “I’m not here for friends; I’m here to win,” but a lot of these people are just so likable and so lovely. The mole lies throughout the whole thing, but off-camera, the stress and tension is gone. We’re eating together or driving to the next location and sharing stories about who we are. 

The core of me is centered around community, and even though I wanted to shut it off, those in-between moments really got to me. Some of these friendships are so real. Hannah (Burns), for example, was somebody who I saw as competition or as an enemy, but outside of the game, we were friends, so it was this weird, funny tension where it’s like, “I adore you, but in the game, I’m lying to you up and down.”

I had such a beautiful friendship with Jenn (Jennifer Dasilva-Hassiman), too, and it sucked so bad because she left first. She has such a beautiful spirit. In the beginning, it was difficult coming into this as a minority. 

I know who I am, but I’m also shifting myself a little bit for this game, and as someone who grew up in predominantly white spaces, code switching becomes this mechanism. It was lovely to see Jenn be exactly who she is — this bold, beautiful personality and unapologetically herself. 

One of the key moments from the season was episode five, when you guys had an auction and contestant Neesh Riaz bid the entire pot of $59,500 for an exemption from the quiz.

What was it like watching all of that money you guys worked for drain from the pot?

It was so tense, and it’s funny watching it back from an outside perspective, because it’s been so long. I’m just laughing at my reaction, because it was so serious. What’s so unique about this game is that they take your phone away so you’re truly, one-hundred percent engulfed in this experience. Like, this is your life, and we’re at the halfway point. 

When he took all that money, it just hit me that somebody’s full year of work was gone just like that. 

Honestly, everybody was so mad. There’s so many moments that were not shown. We were outside and we were just like, “What are we doing here?” Even the host had to remind us that there’s still a lot of money coming in, but I think at this point, people were just so tired of losing money and you’re realizing not only are we competing against the mole, we’re competing against other players. So you’re like, “Okay, what are my actual odds here? If I was to win, am I going to be winning a dollar? Is that right?”

How did it feel to get as far as you did? 

It felt so good. A big part of that whole experience ties to the very beginning of our conversation where I didn’t want to come on the show to prove that I’m smart or exceptional. I just wanted to be myself and show all of the complexities that make up a human. 

I’m smart, but I’m also a big personality. I’m a little funny and a little quirky. I don’t have to compromise anything and I can still get to the end. Even though I didn’t win, I still proved that it had nothing to do with who I was or my capabilities and, for that, I feel like my purpose was met. Money would have been amazing but the experience was more fulfilling than I could have imagined.

What was the reaction from your friends and family after the show aired? 

It was really beautiful. My family is my biggest support system and my sisters, especially. It was like a sports game, the way they were cheering for me. 

What about the response from viewers?

Watching the show back was such a healing experience, and then to see the outpour of love in my DMs — that was something I wasn’t prepared for. And to see all these Muslim women come into my messages — it meant so much to me, and I didn’t know how much I needed it. 

It just reaffirmed exactly what I was meant to do. Coming into this next era, I want to continue paving the path so others could walk with me and hopefully, it’ll be easier for the next one, and the next one, and the next one. 

source/content: sahanjournal.com / myahgoff (headline edited)

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Poet Muna Abdulahi (center) gives a spoken word tribute during the January 9, 2024, inauguration of St. Paul’s historic all-female City Council. The new council sits behind her. Credit: Aaron Nesheim | Sahan Journal

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AMERICAN / SOMALIA

SOMALIA: 21-year old engineer Mohamad Adawe creates home-made respirator to ease country’s COVID-19 crisis

Somalia receives a boost in fight against COVID-19 in the form of home-made mechanised respirators, created by 21-year-old Mogadishu-based mechanical engineer A 21-year-old mechanical engineer came up with the device in response to a national shortage.

A 21-year-old Somali mechanical engineer has invented a homemade respirator to try to help his country during the COVID-19 Pandemic.

The east African nation is suffering from a severe lack of respiratory equipment, which concerned Mogadishu–based Mohamad Adawe.

Previously, medical staff in Somalia have mainly had to assist patients’ breathing by manually pumping the equipment. This has also brought them into close contact with the infected people, heightening the risk of contagion.

“We don’t have economic might or a strong government in Somalia. To respond to this bad disease, I produced this device at a time when our people are suffering from a shortage of oxygen equipment.

 Mohamed Adawe 

Mogadishu-based mechanical engineer

Adawe says there was a real need for his invention:

“This device is used for patients in emergency situations, especially those who are having difficulty breathing. It is immediately useable for saving lives.

“We don’t have economic might or a strong government in Somalia. To respond to this bad disease, I produced this device at a time when our people are suffering from a shortage of oxygen equipment.

“So, my automated device can be attached to the patient’s face and moved away from them, as a social distancing measure.”

“With my device, we can fight against COVID-19 while our country is facing a shortage of oxygen devices – and while other countries of the world hold ventilators and other devices in their warehouses.”

Dr. Hussein Abdi-Aziz Abdulkadir, Director of the Somali Syrian Hospital in Mogadishu, hailed the significance of Adawe’s invention:

“In the past, you always had to use your hands to squeeze the airbag of the device, to clear the airway of the patient.

“But now Mohamed Adawe has automated the device to help patients clear their airway and help with breathing at a time when there is an urgent need for this.”

It’s hoped Mohamad Adawe’s innovation will help save lives: not just because it aids the patient in breathing, but also because it allows doctors to keep a safer distance from them, reducing the risk of contagion.

source/content: euronew.com (headline edited)

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pix: AFP

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SOMALIA

SOMALI-AMERICAN: Dega Nalayeh is one of Bank of America’s Top Advisors to the Ultra-Wealthy. She just Clocked $6.4 billion in Client Assets and is now Climbing Mount Kilimanjaro.

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.

source/content: businessinsider.in (headline edited)

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Dega Nalayeh / Courtesy of Bank of America

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AMERICAN / SOMALIA

Somali American Running Star Abdi Bile is a World-Champion Mentor.

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?”

source/content: sahanjournal.com

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Mohamed Abdi Mohamed, right, stands for a portrait with his mentor Abdi Bile, the most decorated athlete in Somalia’s history. Bile, who directs a running program through the Loppet Foundation in Minneapolis, is coaching Mohamed not only in running but in life. Credit: Anthony Souffle | Star Tribune

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AMERICAN / SOMALI AMERICAN / SOMALIA

Somalia Elects Hassan Sheikh Mohamud as New President : May 2022

Hassan Sheikh Mohamud elected president for the second time, defeating incumbent President Mohamed Abdullahi Mohamed in a final round.

Somali legislators have elected former leader Hassan Sheikh Mohamud as the country’s next president, following a long-overdue election on Sunday in the troubled Horn of Africa nation.

Hassan Sheikh Mohamud, who served as Somalia’s president between 2012 and 2017, won the contest in the capital, Mogadishu, amid a security lockdown imposed by authorities to prevent deadly rebel attacks.

After a marathon poll, involving 36 candidates, that was broadcast live on state TV, parliamentary officials counted more than 165 votes in favour of Mohamud, more than the number required to defeat incumbent President Mohamed Abdullahi Mohamed.

Supporters of Somalia’s new leader defied the curfew to pour onto the streets of Mogadishu, cheering and firing guns as it became clear that Mohamud had won the vote.

Many hope the election will draw a line under a political crisis that has lasted well over a year, after Mohamed’s term ended in February 2021 without an election.

Mohamed, who is also known as Farmaajo, conceded defeat, and Mohamud was immediately sworn in.

The new president struck a conciliatory tone in his acceptance speech from the airport compound in Mogadishu, which was patrolled by African Union (AU) peacekeepers.

“It is indeed commendable that the president is here standing by my side,” Mohamud said, referring to the former leader, who had sat with him as ballots were counted.

“We have to move ahead, we do not need grudges. No avenging,” he said.

War, drought

The 66-year-old Mohamud is the leader of the Union for Peace and Development party, which commands a majority of seats in both legislative chambers.

A member of the Hawiye clan, one of Somalia’s largest, Mohamud is regarded by some as a statesman with a conciliatory approach. He is also well-known for his work as a civic leader and education promoter, including for his role as one of the founders of Mogadishu’s SIMAD University.

source/content: aljazeera.com (edited)

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Somalia's newly elected president Hassan Sheikh Mohamud holds hands with incumbent president Mohamed Abdullahi Mohamed after winning the elections in Mogadishu,
Somalia’s newly elected President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud, right, holds hands with incumbent President Mohamed Abdullahi Mohamed, left after winning the elections in Mogadishu, Somalia, May 16, 2022 [Feisal Omar/ Reuters]

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SOMALIA

Bashir Abdi: From Somalian Refugee to Belgian Olympic Bronze Medallist

Bashir Abdi’s bronze medal in the marathon at the Olympic Games in Tokyo is a victory that will go down in the history books. He came to Belgium as a refugee from Somalia as a 13-year-old boy. Speaking after taking bronze in Tokyo, Bashir Adil told VRT Sport that “I always wanted to thank my new country by winning a medal”. 

The scenes of Bashir Abdi being encouraged on by his best friend and training buddy, the Dutch athlete Abdi Nageeye, as they both reached the finishing line will be one of the enduring memories of this summer’s Tokyo Olympics. Bashir Abdi’s bronze medal was the first medal for Belgium in the Olympic marathon event since Karel Lismont’s medal 45 years ago. 

A great sporting achievement for a man that is delighted to be able to give something back to a country that he came to as a teenage refugee and that he is proud to call home. “I always want to thank my new country by giving it a medal. At the European Championships I was successful and won silver and now I am on the podium at the Olympic Games. Hopefully more will follow in the future”.

But what about the past? Who is Bashir Abdi and how did he get to where he is? A couple of months ago Bashir Abdi was a guest in our nightly topical discussion programme ‘De Afspraak’. Then he said “I was 13 years old in 2002 when I arrived in Ghent (East Flanders) with my father, sister and brother. People know me from sport, my achievements as a runner, but few people know about my journey from Somalia to Belgium”. In an effort to change this Bashir’s Dutch teacher a book about his life.

“It was all new I didn’t speak the language; it was a completely different culture, and the weather was cold. First, I was in a football club because in Somalia the only sport on TV or in the paper is football. I didn’t even know that other sports existed. Then I come into contact with athletic and that was something that greatly appealed to me. Running on my own and forgetting about everything that I had gone through gave me so much fulfilment. Society has helped me”.

A key figure in Abdi story is his mother “It is thanks to her that I came to Belgium. She has recognition as a political refugee, and she initiated a family reunification procedure. It took years before I was reunited with her”.

Bashir Abdi’s mother died of cancer in 2011. In the interview he told of what her last words to him were “She call us together on the final day of her life and said, ‘this country has meant so much to all of you, be good people’. She was the one that always supported me being an athlete while the rest of the family felt that it was a waste of time”.

When he was asked by our colleague Phara de Aguirre if he would be running for his Mum on 8 August, Bashir Abdi said “Absolutley, I hope that she will be looking down watch my performance from up there”.  

source/content : vrt.be / flandersnews.be

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BELGIAN / SOMALI

Hamse Warfa, the Highest-Ranking Somali Appointee in the Biden-Harris Administration, Washington

Hamse Warfa.

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.

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pix: hiraan.com

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AMERICAN / SOMALIA

‘The Gravedigger’s Wife’: A Somali Love Story Wins Africa’s Top Film Prize : October 24th, 2021

Khadar Ayderus Ahamed. Writer. Film Director.

Movie by Finnish-Somali writer-director Khadar Ayderus Ahmed won the Stallion of Yennenga grand prize at the Pan-African Film and Television Festival of Ouagadougou.

A little more than one month after it won the Amplify Voices Award at the Toronto International Film Festival, The Gravedigger’s Wife  has scooped Africa’s top film prize.

The drama, by Finnish-Somali writer-director Khadar Ayderus Ahmed, won the prestigious Stallion of Yennenga Grand Prize for Best Film at the Pan African Film Festival in Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso, on Sunday.

Filmed in Somali in Djibouti, the tenderly moving story of love and devotion follows Guled (Omar Abdi), a man who makes a precarious living from loss.

The film took home the 20 million franc ($35,714) CFA prize money and the golden stallion statue, beating 16 other African films to the top prize. The films in competition were made by directors from 15 different African countries.

It was also Somalia’s first official entry for the Best International Feature Film category at the 2021 Academy Awards, and premiered at the Cannes Film Festival in July.

source/content: thenationalnews.com

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Khadar Ayderus Ahmed, left, Yasmin Warsame, centre, and Omar Abdi attend ‘The Gravedigger’s Wife’ photocall during the 2021 Toronto International Film Festival. / AFP / thenationalnews.com

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FINLAND / SOMALIA