Somalia’s poets keep hope alive for storytelling and for peace

MOGADISHU, Somalia — In a theater where a suicide bomber detonated years ago, Hassan Barre stepped forward to offer a different hallmark of Somalia: poetry.

In one of the world’s most volatile nations, Somalis must be aware of their responsibility to their country and each other, he said in a recital emphasizing good citizenship.

The 70-year-old Barre cut a somber figure at the podium. His message echoed in the largely empty hall of the National Theater in Mogadishu, the capital, where aging poets in austere suits gather to share verses and recall the good old days.

The men, some with hennaed beards and glaucoma eyes, represent a fading measure of hope for a country that has been slowly stripped of its cultural wealth during decades of conflict.

There may be no higher art in Somalia than oral poetry, which is recited in the most remote outposts and even by militants in the bush. Somalis, after all, are often described as “a nation of poets.” Their work often venerates pastoral well-being and the traditional roles of men and women in the predominantly Islamic society.

Some poets like Hadraawi — the “Shakespeare of Somalia” who died in 2022 — have achieved universal recognition. “Hadraawi’s oeuvre includes a broad repertoire, from love songs to laments of war,” Harvard University’s Archive of World Music noted after his death.

Poets flourished during the reign of Siad Barre, who ruled Somalia with an iron hand but was known to respect the intellectual work of artists. His removal in 1991 by clan-based militias provoked a civil war as warlords fought for authority — chaos that eventually led to the deadly rise of the al-Qaida-affiliated al-Shabab.

Somalia is now known far more for bombings than poetry. The violence has not spared its cultural institutions, now mostly in limbo as the fragile federal government spends the bulk of its budget on national security.

The National Theater, like the National Museum next door, is largely inactive. To reach the venue in a heavily guarded area near the presidential palace, visitors traveling in a vehicle must notify the intelligence agency in advance, part of security precautions that demand not just the car’s license plate number but even its make and color.

On the morning Hassan Barre sang his poem, a group of young Somalis were practicing a folk dance that emphasized traditional values, like dutifully cultivating the land. A group of poets, including one woman, sat nearby, talking quietly.

Some told The Associated Press they are trying to keep Somalia’s poetic tradition alive despite security concerns and financial challenges that limit programming.

Traditional poets still perform at community gatherings like weddings, and poems are recited daily on local radio stations.

But during Siad Barre’s reign “we were treated like kings,” with some receiving free housing, said the poet Barre, who is not related to the former president. “The present administration, they are not giving much treatment to the poets and singers. We expect them to treat us the way we used to be treated.”

Daud Aweis, Somalia’s culture minister, said poets still play “a vital role in Somali society, serving as a foundational pillar for cultural vitality, individual well-being and peaceful coexistence.” While his ministry provides limited funding for culture and the arts at the National Theater, “the long-term goal is to expand support,” he told the AP.

Inaugurated in 1967, less than a decade after independence, the National Theater shut down in 1991 following Barre’s ouster. It reopened in 2012 after African Union peacekeepers pushed al-Shabab fighters out of Mogadishu in a counter-terrorism campaign.

Months later, however, a suicide bomber blew herself up at the theater during a speech by the prime minister, killing the head of Somalia’s Olympic committee and at least seven others. The prime minister survived.

Still, the poets who meet at the National Theater are not giving up. Gathering there fosters a sense of community in a sandbagged city ringed by checkpoints.

Hirsi Dhuuh Mohamed, who chairs the Somali Council of Poets, said the group has 400 members, including many in the diaspora. He said things had improved from “the worst” in the late 1990s, when Mogadishu was divided into zones as warlords fought for dominance.

“One thing that unites all Somali poets, whether in Eritrea, whether in Somalia, everywhere, we stand for peace,” he said, adding that they never engage directly in politics. Instead, he said, the overarching message of their work is security, good governance and community integration.

Another poet, Maki Haji Banaadir, a curmudgeon with gold-rimmed glasses, is among those trying to keep the National Theater operational as its deputy director.

In 2003, he and six other poets traveled across Somalia to preach reconciliation. That kind of journey is impossible now. The federal government has little hold on territory outside of Mogadishu, and at least two semi-autonomous regions are seeking secession.

Maki, as he is commonly known, is a popular cultural figure in Somalia. A decade ago, he composed a song about the apparent uselessness of the Somali shilling, which is no longer accepted in local markets amid the dollarization of Somalia’s economy.

Asked if he and his peers were grooming the next generation of Somali poets, he said he hoped so: “We are working day and night.”