No More Talks with a Failed State.

In a fiery decision, Somaliland officially halts all negotiations with Somalia, condemning the Lasanod visit as a violation of sovereignty. Tensions soar as Hargeisa draws a hard line. 

Somaliland to Somalia: Dialogue Is Dead. War Logic Begins.

April 16, 2025, will be remembered as the day Somaliland officially slammed the door on any pretense of peace with Somalia. Following Mogadishu’s calculated provocation — Prime Minister Hamza Barre’s illegal and inflammatory visit to Lasanod — the Council of Ministers has delivered the decision millions had been waiting for: no more talks with Somalia, a regime they now describe as a failed, deceptive, and destabilizing force in the Horn of Africa.

This was not diplomacy — it was an act of political invasion. With that one move, Somalia crossed the red line. And Somaliland, long patient, long restrained, has now responded in kind: no more illusions of dialogue.

Despite President Irro’s repeated gestures of peace — including an inaugural-day olive branch on December 12, 2024 — Somalia’s response was incitement. Now, the gloves are off.

In today’s Cabinet declaration, Somaliland didn’t just cut off talks — it exposed Somalia’s actions as both legally void and morally bankrupt. The so-called “prisoner release” orchestrated by Barre was condemned as propaganda, staged to mask Mogadishu’s collapsing legitimacy. These are not prisoners of war, Hargeisa made clear — they are illegally abducted civilians, and Somalia’s maneuver is a cheap trick to distract from its own imploding statehood.

Meanwhile, Somaliland continues to coordinate with legitimate international partners — including the ICRC, U.S., UK, and UAE — to resolve humanitarian matters in accordance with international conventions, not tribal theatrics.

The real threat now? Somalia’s erratic moves provide fertile ground for terrorists. By militarizing Lasanod and hijacking peace for photo ops, Mogadishu opens the gates for extremist groups to re-enter the scene — endangering not just Somaliland, but the entire Horn of Africa.

With Somalia violating every principle of past dialogue, Somaliland has walked away — not in surrender, but in sovereignty. The nation’s message is thunderous and unambiguous:

“We will defend every inch. We will not negotiate our borders. And we will not recognize a regime that refuses to recognize our right to exist.”

Dahabshiil. Telesom. Al-Xarbi. Government insiders. All gathered in Nairobi. Explosive revelations expose covert Nairobi meeting between Somaliland officials, moguls, and Somalia’s Darood network. 

WARYATV EXCLUSIVE: SECRET DEALS THAT BETRAY THE REPUBLIC

While the people of Somaliland demand recognition and sovereignty, their own government may be orchestrating a quiet surrender — not with guns, but with contracts. WARYATV has obtained explosive information revealing that top Somaliland businessmen — including Dahabshiil, Telesom, and Al-Xarbi — are holding a covert trade meeting in Nairobi with Somalia-linked Darood networks, with the Minister of Commerce in attendance.

What are they trading? Peace? Influence? Or the dignity of a nation still under siege?

This meeting — shrouded in secrecy, hidden from the public eye — is being coordinated by Jamac Gaabush, a political operator who has recently been jetting between Addis Ababa, Nairobi, and Mogadishu. His mission: to broker a backdoor economic deal between Somaliland and Somalia, effectively bypassing Hargeisa’s official trade institutions.

Why Nairobi? Why now? And why in the shadows?

WARYATV can confirm that this clandestine initiative aims to open up trade routes through Lasanod, under the guise of post-conflict “trust-building.” The recent “prisoner handover” by SSC-Khaatumo is being positioned as a strategic prelude to this backdoor business normalization. But sources say this is not reconciliation — it’s surrender masked as commerce.

Multiple business insiders reveal that after a private audience with President Irro, key businessmen demanded direct intervention from the Commerce Ministry to “fix” disputes around Berbera port access and inland transportation monopolies. But instead of public debate, the Minister postponed the internal review — and jetted to Nairobi.

Now the truth is out.

This is not a trade forum. It is a black-market deal dressed in diplomatic silence. These talks have no oversight from the legal Somaliland Chamber of Commerce, and no mandate from the people.

By entertaining Somalia-aligned business actors and quietly normalizing relations with Darood-linked networks in Lasanod, this initiative undermines everything Somaliland has fought for — from 1991 to the battlefield of Goojacade.

The timing is no coincidence. Just as the world begins to hear Somaliland’s case for recognition, internal sabotage appears in the form of “economic diplomacy” — with the fingerprints of opportunists and political brokers all over it.

Somaliland’s sovereignty is not for sale — not in Mogadishu, not in Nairobi, and not by those wearing Hargeisa’s badge while making deals in silence.

While Somaliland fights for recognition… some are trading it away in secret.

Trump eyes embassy closures as US rejects UN plan to fund peacekeepers in Somalia — Mogadishu’s last lifeline in peril.

The US shocks the UN by rejecting funding for African Union forces in Somalia, just as Trump weighs closing the US Embassy in Mogadishu. With Al-Shabaab advancing and oil politics heating up, is Somalia doomed to implode?

The United States just signaled the collapse of Somalia’s last fragile security architecture — and it did so with chilling clarity. Washington has publicly rejected UN efforts to fund the African Union Stabilization Support Mission in Somalia (AUSSOM), effectively gutting any hope for predictable peacekeeping operations in a country teetering on the edge of collapse.

This isn’t just a bureaucratic snub — it’s a geopolitical death sentence for Somalia. Al-Shabaab militants are already testing the vacuum, launching a multi-pronged assault on Adan Yabaal, a key military base in Middle Shabelle. If confirmed, the town’s fall would mark the largest strategic loss since Somalia launched its offensive against terror in 2022.

UN Secretary-General António Guterres warned the Security Council: no funding, no peace. But the US—under Trump’s second-term posture—is slamming the door shut, labeling Somalia as unfit for a hybrid funding model under Resolution 2719. Diplomats are in a panic. Meanwhile, Trump is reportedly planning to close up to 30 diplomatic missions, with Mogadishu’s embassy topping the list.

Somalia’s response? Desperation disguised as diplomacy. The FGS is now peddling oil blocks in contested territories like Nugaal Valley. In a flashy announcement on X, Somalia’s ambassador to the US declared “Somalia is open for drilling,” targeting American firms with an offer it legally and militarily cannot secure.

Somalia’s Ambassador to the United States, Dahir Hassan Arab

The move comes after Somalia’s recognition of SSC-Khaatumo — a region still engulfed in the political wreckage of its war with Somaliland.

This isn’t about development. It’s about weaponizing recognition, resource manipulation, and fake sovereignty in a bid to win Trump’s favor and undermine Somaliland’s momentum.

But while Hargeisa builds forests and attracts foreign media praise, Mogadishu is drowning in debt, insurgency, and denial. The West is tuning out, and even the UN is losing patience. The US, once Somalia’s diplomatic oxygen, is now pulling the plug.

Somalia is not rising — it’s being unplugged.

President Irro marks National Tree Planting Day with the 3,000th tree planting milestone, pledging climate resilience for Somaliland’s future.

Somaliland President Abdullahi Irfan leads the fight against climate change, planting trees to combat deforestation, drought, and rural collapse.

In a region where war, drought, and displacement dominate the headlines, President Irro is planting a different kind of future—one seedling at a time.

Marking Somaliland National Tree Planting Day on April 15, Irfan stood beneath the scorching sun and declared war—not on enemies or insurgents, but on deforestation, climate chaos, and soil erosion. And this wasn’t just ceremony. As he launched the 3,000th tree planting event under the Wadajir and Waxqabad government, Irro signaled a broader vision: fight climate change or watch Somaliland vanish beneath sand and thirst.

His speech didn’t sugarcoat it. From “rising temperatures” and “repeated droughts” to “the displacement of pastoralists” and rural decay, Irro listed every climate blow crushing Somaliland’s future. His response? Restore life through trees. “The lack of trees,” he warned, “is the lack of life.”

The government’s Three Million Tree Planting Project isn’t symbolic. It’s strategic. Reforesting Somaliland means restoring agricultural soil, slowing desertification, anchoring fleeing rural communities, and securing water supplies in a land gasping for it. It’s also political—fulfilling campaign promises with roots in real soil.

But this isn’t just about trees. It’s about rewriting a national doctrine. In a region addicted to short-term conflict fixes, Irfan’s environmental push is revolutionary. He’s betting that climate security will deliver where politics have failed.

Verdict: In a world watching Somaliland for its geopolitics, President Irro is reminding us that the most important front line may not be in Las Anod or Mogadishu—but in the dry, cracked earth beneath our feet.

Held for nearly two years, elderly Las Anod woman becomes the face of a disturbing Khaatumo war tactic unseen in Somali history.

Her name is Cadar — a name that once meant strength and dignity in Las Anod, where she earned an honest living feeding locals in modest restaurants. Today, she stands as a living indictment of the Khaatumo militia’s moral collapse, having survived nearly two years of unlawful captivity in her own hometown.

In all the chapters of Somali history — scarred as they may be by war — there has never been a precedent where an elderly woman was held as a prisoner of war. This is not just unusual. It’s abhorrent. It shatters centuries of deeply rooted cultural values where women, particularly elders, were sacred. Even the most brutal clan conflicts of the past had lines that were not crossed. Until now.

Cadar was one of many reportedly detained by the Firidhiye-aligned forces in Las Anod. Upon their release, these civilian captives were forced to wear blue cloth — a humiliating symbol representing the Somalia flag, and by extension, the failed state her captors claim to represent. The act reeks of psychological warfare. Coercion masquerading as symbolism.

Let’s call this what it is: a war crime.

Not only does it violate the Geneva Conventions, which prohibit political coercion and public shaming of prisoners, it spits in the face of Somali customs, where even during war, the vulnerable were spared.

This was not liberation. It was propaganda in its most grotesque form — a desperate attempt by Khaatumo leaders to rewrite the narrative by parading broken civilians like trophies.

Shame on them.

No flag, no ideology, no rebellion justifies this degradation. What kind of leadership holds grandmothers hostage? What vision of freedom begins by humiliating the very people it claims to protect?

This is not the Khaatumo of public aspiration — this is its ugly, unmasked reality.

As the UAE installs advanced Israeli surveillance tech in Bosaso, Somaliland watches from the sidelines—unprepared, uncertain, and strategically sidelined.

UAE quietly deploys Israeli ELM-2084 radar in Puntland, while Somaliland fails to act. Starlink enters Somalia. The Horn of Africa’s new security map is being drawn—and Hargeisa’s not holding the pen.

The Horn’s balance of power is shifting—and Somaliland is missing in action.

In a stunning military maneuver, the United Arab Emirates has discreetly deployed a state-of-the-art Israeli-made ELM-2084 radar system to Bosaso, Puntland—just steps from its air base. The 3D AESA radar, known for tracking drones, missiles, and hostile aircraft with surgical precision, now anchors Puntland’s growing maritime defense grid.

Coordinates don’t lie.
📍 11°16’16.5”N, 49°06’28.3”E — right where Somaliland was supposed to step in.

Sources confirm the UAE and the U.S. had planned this deployment for Berbera six weeks ago. But Hargeisa wasn’t ready. No infrastructure. No green light. No urgency. So the radar—and the opportunity—moved to Puntland.

And that’s not all. Four more radar units are en route.

At the same time, Elon Musk’s Starlink is beaming into Somalia—expanding Mogadishu’s digital reach and strengthening its control of the skies. While Somalia signs deals, coordinates strategy, and expands presence, Somaliland’s diplomatic and security corridors remain stalled, reactive, and exposed.

This isn’t just missed opportunity. It’s national security negligence.

Meanwhile, Somalia is rearming. Turkey is building bases. UAE is choosing Puntland. And Somaliland?

Still waiting. Still hoping. Still unprepared.

As one analyst told WARYATV, “The question is no longer what Israel, UAE, or the U.S. can do for Somaliland. The real question is: When will Somaliland be ready to say yes?”

Barre’s Las Anod visit escalates tensions as Mogadishu officially absorbs SSC-Khaatumo, redrawing the map and triggering a furious response from Hargeisa.

Somalia’s recognition of SSC-Khaatumo as a federal state ignites diplomatic warfare with Somaliland, which calls the move a blatant breach of sovereignty. 

What Somalia just did in Las Anod is nothing short of a diplomatic land grab.

In a public ceremony staged in the heart of Somaliland-controlled Las Anod, Somali Prime Minister Hamza Abdi Barre formally recognized SSC-Khaatumo as a federal member administration—a political act that Somaliland’s leadership considers a declaration of war.

“This is not a contested area,” Barre proclaimed, erasing decades of self-governance and territorial control exercised by Hargeisa. But behind the polished rhetoric lies a strategic offensive to reassert Somali federal power in the north—one backed by foreign defense deals, oil ambitions, and electoral manipulation.

SSC-Khaatumo’s leader Firdhiye, once a marginal actor, is now being handed a seat at the high-stakes National Consultative Council (NCC)—Mogadishu’s premier political forum. His inclusion signals Somalia’s intent to institutionalize the partitioning of Somaliland from within.

Barre didn’t come empty-handed. He came with funding promises, construction blueprints, and federal flags—launching new buildings, police HQs, and ID centers. This isn’t development—it’s occupation by bureaucracy.

Somaliland responded with fury, calling the move a blatant violation of sovereignty. And they’re right to sound the alarm. Because if SSC-Khaatumo’s “recognition” is allowed to stand, then the map of Somaliland could be erased by decree—not by war.

But there’s a legal twist. Somalia’s own provisional constitution requires a structured vetting process, which SSC-Khaatumo has not completed. There’s been no parliamentary ratification, no public consultation, no legal framework—just political theatre in a city under dispute.

The timing is no accident. Recognition of Somaliland is gaining steam internationally. This move is Somalia’s desperate attempt to block it—and to insert chaos into Hargeisa’s clearest shot at statehood in 30 years.

Barre’s visit to Las Anod wasn’t just political—it was tactical. Now Somaliland must decide: respond diplomatically—or prepare for a deeper confrontation.

With China creeping into Somalia, Hargeisa makes its boldest push yet—offering Berbera base access in exchange for diplomatic recognition from Washington. 

Somaliland ramps up pressure on Washington to abandon its “One Somalia” stance, offering strategic ports and unwavering support for U.S. allies, while Mogadishu scrambles to block the move.

The battle for recognition just entered the White House—and Somaliland is betting on Trump.

Hargeisa’s leadership is escalating its diplomatic blitz in Washington, capitalizing on growing Republican support and frustration over U.S. failures in Mogadishu. At the center of Somaliland’s pitch: Berbera, the jewel of the Gulf of Aden. A UAE-upgraded port, a Cold War airbase, and a direct launchpad for U.S. power projection into the Red Sea and beyond.

Foreign Minister Abdirahman Yusuf Bakaal didn’t mince words. “The United States is done with the ‘One Somalia’ fantasy,” he declared. “They’ve finally realized Somaliland is a functioning democracy in a sea of chaos.”

And Bakaal is right about one thing—America is listening. U.S. Deputy Secretary of State Christopher Landau acknowledged on X that he’s “looking into” the Somaliland file. Meanwhile, Trump-aligned groups, including Project 2025, are calling for an official break from the Somalia-first doctrine, citing Chinese influence, Turkish militarism, and growing maritime threats in the Horn.

While Mogadishu desperately tries to keep pace—offering ports it doesn’t control, like Berbera—Somaliland is throwing down hard facts: Somalia can’t secure Mogadishu, let alone deliver on foreign military basing deals.

President Abdirahman Mohamed Abdullahi Irro has called Trump’s return to power “the greatest opportunity in our nation’s history.” With Hargeisa refusing ties with China and deepening ties with Taiwan, it’s becoming clear: Somaliland isn’t just asking for recognition—it’s offering strategic alignment in a region on fire.

A Somaliland delegation lands in Washington this May. Irro follows in July. And this time, they’re not knocking on doors—they’re demanding a seat at the table.