In the vast, arid expanses of northeastern Kenya, where drought has turned once-thriving pastures into graveyards for livestock and left families on the brink of survival, a growing chorus of frustration is echoing across communities. While severe water shortages, crumbling infrastructure, and relentless insecurity plague regions like Dadaab and Mandera, some prominent Kenyan Somali politicians appear more focused on distant conflicts in Las Anod — a hotspot in the disputed Sool region of Somaliland — than on the urgent crises at home.
Three figures in particular have drawn sharp criticism: Yusuf Hassan (MP for Kamukunji), Farah Maalim (MP for Dadaab), and former Mandera Senator Billow Kerow. Their recent engagements with Las Anod — a town at the heart of clan tensions, territorial disputes between Somaliland and Somalia-linked forces, and ongoing instability — have sparked accusations that they are seeking “political relief” abroad to revive fading relevance at home.
Farah Maalim represents Dadaab, one of Kenya’s largest and most challenging constituencies spanning roughly 7,000 square kilometers. Residents here endure:
No paved roads
Scarce clean drinking water
Unreliable electricity
No proper maternal hospitals
Limited access to quality secondary schools or universities
Persistent insecurity, with regular attacks claiming civilian and security lives, Yet, instead of channeling energy into these long-standing issues, critics argue Maalim and others have turned to Las Anod as a stage for grandstanding.
Yusuf Hassan, meanwhile, faces scrutiny over his Las Anod visit, with some alleging he has framed it politically by tying it to anti-Israel narratives — especially given his marriage to Susanna Price, an Israeli national working with UNICEF. Detractors claim this approach stirs controversy to rally support among certain groups, using foreign issues as a tool for local political gain.
Billow Kerow, having lost his Mandera Senate seat in consecutive elections, is seen by many as a politician rejected by his own voters. His continued visibility in external arenas like Las Anod has fueled perceptions that he is desperately chasing relevance after being sidelined at home.
The irony is stark. Northeastern Kenya battles a humanitarian crisis: massive livestock losses, shattered livelihoods, and threats to human life from drought. These are the very heartlands these leaders claim to represent, yet locals report little meaningful progress in improving daily life.
The message from ordinary citizens is clear and increasingly vocal: Leaders should fix their own yards first — tackle the drought, build roads, secure water, and restore safety in Dadaab, Mandera, and beyond — before diving into Somaliland’s complex affairs. True leadership begins at home.
This growing debate underscores a deeper call for accountability. Kenyan Somali communities deserve representatives who prioritize their immediate needs over distant distractions. Until that happens, the question will linger: Why seek relief in Las Anod when so much suffering remains unresolved in your own backyard?