Why Are We Failing to Honour the Brave Young People Serving Their Nation?
By Guleid Mohamed.
Although Somaliland’s international humanitarian forensic programme began in 2012 through collaboration between the Government of Somaliland, the Center for Justice and Accountability (CJA), and the Peruvian Forensic Anthropology Team (EPAF). My own journey into humanitarian forensic investigations began in 2015 during the excavation of a mass grave in Gabiley.Samaliland.
By then, international experts had already established the foundation for humanitarian forensic investigations in Somaliland. However, the discipline remained new not only to Somaliland but also to the wider Horn of Africa. Very few people—including government officials, local authorities, and members of the public—had firsthand knowledge of how humanitarian forensic investigations were conducted. For many communities, this was the first time they had witnessed a scientific excavation of a mass grave.
The morning of my first mass grave investigation in Gabiley remains vivid in my memory. As I arrived at the site, I immediately noticed the intensity of the environment. The weather was exceptionally hot, and the sun beat down relentlessly throughout the day. Even the international forensic experts, many of whom had worked in different parts of the world, commented on how challenging the Somaliland heat was. Despite the harsh conditions, the team remained focused, fully aware of the importance of the work before us.
What struck me most, however, was not the weather—it was the people.
Almost the entire community seemed to be present. Community elders stood together, quietly observing the preparations. Mothers and fathers waited patiently, their faces reflecting years of hope and uncertainty. Young people and children gathered nearby, watching with curiosity as the forensic team carefully prepared the excavation site. The atmosphere was solemn yet filled with expectation.
Many families had lived with unanswered questions for more than three decades. As they watched the excavation begin, there was a shared hope that the investigation might finally reveal the fate of their loved ones. Some believed that parents, brothers, sisters, or children who had disappeared during the conflict might finally be found. Others simply wanted confirmation of what had happened so they could begin to find peace.
As a member of the investigation team, I was entrusted with several responsibilities. Alongside assisting with forensic documentation and recording post-mortem observations, one of my principal duties was community awareness and communication. Before and during the excavation, I explained to community members what the forensic team was doing, why the excavation was taking place, and what they could expect throughout the investigation. This required translating complex forensic concepts into language that local communities could understand while addressing their concerns honestly and respectfully.
One question was asked repeatedly:
“How can you identify someone who has been buried for more than thirty years?”
Their skepticism was understandable. To many people, the idea seemed impossible. If I am honest, I had wondered the same thing when I first entered the field. Although my educational background in biological sciences helped me understand scientific concepts more quickly, humanitarian forensic investigation introduced an entirely new way of thinking about the human body after death.
As I learned from experienced forensic anthropologists and archaeologists, I came to appreciate that even after decades, human remains can preserve valuable biological information. Through careful archaeological excavation, skeletal analysis, the examination of personal effects, burial context, witness testimony, and post-mortem observations, investigators can gradually reconstruct the identity and story of an individual. I soon realized that identification is rarely based on a single piece of evidence. Instead, it is a careful process of bringing together multiple sources of information until they collectively tell the story of one person.
One aspect that particularly fascinated me was the recording of post-mortem data. Initially, it was difficult to imagine how information collected from human remains could later be compared with information provided by families to assist in identification. As I gained practical experience, I began to understand that humanitarian forensic science is a meticulous and multidisciplinary process in which every observation contributes to a reliable scientific conclusion.
As I explained these methods to families gathered around the excavation, I noticed a gradual change in their reactions. Curiosity slowly replaced doubt. Instead of questioning whether identification was possible, people began asking how the process worked and what information they could provide to assist the investigation. Those conversations taught me one of the most important lessons of my career: community engagement is not separate from humanitarian forensic investigations it is one of their essential foundations.
Looking back, I now realize that the people of Gabiley were not simply spectators. They were partners in the search for truth. Their presence reminded everyone on the forensic team that every bone recovered belonged to someone who had once lived, loved, and been loved. Every careful movement of the excavation carried the hopes of families who had waited more than thirty years for answers.
That first experience in Gabiley shaped my understanding of humanitarian forensics in ways that no classroom could have achieved. It taught me that an investigator’s responsibilities extend far beyond the excavation trench. We are scientists, communicators, educators, and custodians of public trust. Scientific evidence may uncover the truth, but it is honest communication that enables communities to understand, participate in, and ultimately trust the journey from discovery to dignity.
As I left the excavation site that evening, I realized I had not simply participated in a forensic investigation. I had witnessed the meeting of two worlds: the silent world beneath the soil and the living world of families who had waited decades for answers. From that day forward, I understood that humanitarian forensics is not only about recovering human remains. It is about restoring dignity, preserving memory, and giving voice to those who can no longer speak After that experience, I developed a strong conviction that I could dedicate myself to the field of forensic science and contribute to it in a meaningful way. I also came to understand that mass graves contain far more than human skeletal remains. They preserve an immense amount of historical, forensic, and evidentiary information that can help reconstruct the circumstances of atrocities and identify victims.
At that time, no Somalilander had been directly involved in forensic investigations of this nature or had the opportunity to participate in the scientific excavation and examination of mass graves. For me, witnessing the recovery of human remains, the forensic investigation into the causes of death, and the careful examination of clothing and personal belongings for evidence was an extraordinary experience. It revealed that every bone, every piece of clothing, and every personal object could provide valuable clues about the identity of the victims and the crimes committed against them.
One of the most moving aspects of this work was the way the victims’ families welcomed me. Because I was always working alongside large international forensic teams often consisting of twelve to fifteen specialists many relatives assumed that I had come from abroad with them. They would ask, “Did you also come from overseas with these experts?”
I would always reply, “No. I was born here in Somaliland. We are working together to serve our country and the families who suffered these atrocities.”
I vividly remember one elderly mother whose one of her family had been massacred in Gabiley in 1988, whenever she saw me, she would approach me and say:
“My son, may Allah bless you. Seeing my own people investigating what happened to our loved ones brings us great comfort. It is painful because it forces us to relive the suffering of that terrible day, and each excavation reminds us of our loss. But at the same time, it gives us hope that one day those responsible for these crimes against our people will be brought and will punished by the international judiciary system.
Her words stayed with me and strengthened my determination to continue this work.
An important part of the investigation involved collecting ante-mortem data, information gathered from the families of missing persons before any laboratory identification could begin. These interviews were designed to document distinctive characteristics that might later assist forensic identification.
Some of the ante-mortem data questions we asked included:
- Did your missing relative have any missing fingers or toes?
- Did they have any dental work, such as fillings or missing teeth?
- Did they have gold teeth or other distinctive dental features?
- Were there any scars, birthmarks, healed fractures, or other unique physical characteristics?
These questions were often difficult for families to understand. Many people looked at me with surprise and wondered how such details could possibly help identify someone who had been killed more than thirty years earlier. It was one of the greatest challenges I faced during those interviews. Explaining the scientific importance of ante-mortem information became an essential part of my work, helping families understand that even the smallest detail could ultimately restore the identity of a loved one.
Every day at that Time, I remember large numbers of people visited the two mass grave sites in Gabiley where exhumation process was going on some travelled from across Somaliland, while others came from neighbouring countries such as Djibouti and Ethiopia after hearing that the graves were being scientifically investigated. For many, simply witnessing the investigation was deeply emotional. It represented hope that the truth about their missing relatives might finally emerge after decades of uncertainty.
The work itself was extremely demanding and consisted of two distinct phases. The first was the field investigation, where forensic teams carefully excavated the mass graves, documented every finding, and recovered the human remains and associated evidence using internationally recognised forensic procedures.
The second phase was the laboratory analysis, where forensic anthropologists and other specialists examined the recovered skeletal remains, clothing, personal belongings, and all associated evidence. This stage involved documenting trauma, analysing biological profiles, recording artefacts, and preparing the evidence for future identification and judicial purposes.
As this was my first forensic mission, I found the work intellectually challenging and emotionally overwhelming. Learning the scientific methods, understanding forensic procedures, and coping with the emotional weight of the investigations required considerable determination. However, with each passing day I became more confident and more capable.
After observing my progress, the (EPAF) congratulated me on how quickly I had adapted to forensic fieldwork. They recognised my commitment and determination.
In truth, I was not the first young Somalilander to attempt this work. Others had joined similar efforts before me but were unable to continue for various personal reasons. In my opinion, one of the greatest challenges was the complete lack of financial support. And participation often depended entirely on personal commitment and voluntary service to one’s country. Anyone who has worked under such circumstances understands how difficult it is to sustain this kind of work without institutional financial support. Many capable people simply could not continue despite their dedication.
Why Somaliland’s Mass Graves Matter
For Somaliland, mass graves carry profound significance. They are not merely burial sites, they are among the strongest pieces of physical evidence documenting the atrocities committed against civilians during the late 1980s. They represent tangible proof of crimes that cannot be erased by the passage of time or by political narratives.
Unfortunately, there are still individuals who dismiss these investigations, sometimes mocking the work by saying, “issaq are just digging up old bones.” I want to make it clear that forensic investigations of mass graves are far more than the recovery of human remains. Every excavation is a scientific, legal, and humanitarian process designed to uncover the truth, restore the identities of victims, document crimes, and preserve evidence that may contribute to justice.
These investigations are not conducted according to the wishes or political interests of the people of Somaliland. They are carried out under internationally recognized forensic standards and are overseen by organizations specializing in human rights, forensic science, and international justice. Throughout the process, international experts and representatives from the united state of America and Europe monitor the work to ensure that every stage from excavation to laboratory analysis is conducted professionally, transparently, and in accordance with international legal and scientific procedures. This is part of a broader system of international human rights and accountability, not a locally improvised exercise.
Despite the importance of this work, successive Somaliland governments have not consistently provided the level of institutional support, or financial investment that such investigations require. This is particularly concerning because mass graves constitute one of the most compelling forms of evidence through which Somaliland documents the atrocities committed against its civilian population and preserves an important part of its modern history.
More broadly, Somaliland has never conducted a comprehensive national survey of its mass graves. As a result, no accurate official figure exists for the total number of mass grave sites across the country. Nevertheless, considering that more than 50,000 civilians are estimated to have been massacred during the conflict, it is reasonable to conclude that the number of mass graves is substantial.
Another important issue is that many of these mass graves have never been properly mapped, documented, or scientifically investigated. Their exact locations remain unknown, and numerous sites are still unprotected. As time passes, natural erosion, urban expansion, agricultural activities, and human development continue to threaten these graves, increasing the risk that invaluable forensic evidence and an essential part of Somaliland’s historical record could be permanently lost before it is ever documented.