Sunday 12 July 2026
The World Cup led the news this week. For Somalis, it brought shock. A moment of Somali excellence, and of African success story, was cut short.
Omar Abdulkadir Artan, the Somali referee chosen to officiate at the tournament, was denied entry to the United States. U.S. officials cited “vetting concerns” and alleged ties to “suspected members of terror groups.” Many Somalis saw the decision as part of a larger story -- attacks on Somali communities, from Minnesota to the White House, and a second Trump term in which Somalis have become targets of racist, xenophobic and MAGA rage.
Omar was sent home. But the moment did not end in disappointment. It became a Somali celebration of achievement. He returned to Mogadishu to a hero’s welcome at Mogadishu Stadium. There was music. Draped in the blue Somali flag, the young singer Saalax Sanaag performed “Garsooraha Daacadow,” written by Abdirahman Fiili in Omar’s honor. The song did not dwell on exclusion. It made the moment a homecoming.
In “Garsooraha Daacadow” (honest Referee) Saalax urges Omar not to be held down by what happened, but to keep striving. He recognizes Omar as an embodiment of Somalinimo: dignity, perseverance, and the pride of a people who continue to celebrate their own even when the world attempts to shut them out.
Garsooraha daacadaw, markii lagu doortay baan,
Dareen Soomalinimo, dartaa na mideeyayoo,
Dhammaan kuu dabaal dagnee, dalkaaga ku soo dhawoow.
Nin diidmadu joojisoo, ma tihid durba niyad jabee,
Xanuunka dadaal ka qaad, waynee doonistaada badi,
Isku dar tamar aad u badan, hankaaga daruurta gee.
Nin daalay ha joogsadee, dawguse weli waa fog yahay,
Dariiqyadu ha u bataan, doqmaha saxda moodayee,
Hadaahine baadi-goob, hamiga damacaaga wayn.
Guushaada ninkaan danayn, ninkaan dusha kula jeclayn,
Inaad baridaa ka daran, hadiido, hadiido daa,
Libtaada haduugo daa, dal baad leedahay ku jecel.
O honest referee, when you were selected,
Because of you, a sense of Somali unity brought us together,
We all celebrated your victory, welcome to your homeland,
You are not one whom rejection can stop, whose spirit breaks so easily.
Turn your pain into hard work, increase your determination and resolve,
Gather every strength you have, and lift your ambition to the clouds,
Let the weary person rest if they must, the journey is still long ahead,
Even if obstacles become many, and people mistake their desires for the right path,
Continue seeking the way forward, pursue your great ambitions and dreams.
The one who feels no joy in your victories, the one who cannot bear you at the summit,
To beg from him is worse than loss, leave him, leave him be,
Let him try to bury your success, you have a nation that loves you still.
Despite the disappointment of Omar being unable to participate in the World Cup, he returned to Mogadishu in high spirits, full of pride for his country and its people. In “Garsooraha Daacadow,” Saalax frames this moment not as an ending, but as one obstacle on a much larger path ahead. He urges Omar to continue striving, to turn pain into effort, and to keep his ambitions high.
As the crowd cheered, both young men seemed to gleam with pride. Omar, the referee whose achievement had already united Somalis across the world, and Saalax, the singer transforming that disappointment into artistic expression of Somali excellence. For two young men who grew up in the shadow of Somalia’s protracted conflict, obstacles are nothing new. Yet the hope, pride, and positivity they exude feel luminous.
This is not the first time Saalax Sanaag has used music to lift up Somalinimo in the face of difficult moments. Saalax exudes such a mature disposition about him regarding politics and his role as an artist. In a 2024 interview with BBC Somali, he reflected on the responsibility of artists to speak respectfully to the society they come from, especially to young people growing up in a tense political climate.
Speaking about his song “Somali Waa Gob,” (Somalis are noble) he explained that the song had evoked a strong reaction among Somalis, but that he believed deeply in the power of poetry and music to help people understand one another, change their minds, and imagine a better society. from an audience perspective, Saalax’s music in all its forms is an artistic medium. He uses it to uplift Somalis and carry their spirits beyond the rigid limits of politics and clan identity.
“Somali Waa Gob” urges Somalis to embrace Somalinimo and togetherness as a people who share a language, land, and culture. Released in a highly divisive political and social climate, with conflict in his ancestral town of Las Anood, he sings that he loves Somali cities all across the Horn the same. At a time when many Somalis are pulled toward narrower forms of belonging, Saalax asks his listeners to remove their blinders and embrace a broader identity. This stance was so well executed and with foresight that many of his contemporaries couldn’t match.
In “Soomaali waa gob,” Saalax sings:
Anoo galdalooladiyo, gufayn kara ceebahoo,
Gudaha iintayda taal, go’ iyo maro saari kara,
Geeraar kuma baahin karo, geeraar kuma baahin karo.
Gef dhacay anigoonan dhalan, geyiga kuma qaybin karo;
Garaadku wuxuu i yidhi: dad aan kala guuri karin,
Intaad kala goyn lahayd, midkii isku geeya noqo.
Waxay gabagabadu tahay: gobyahay Soomaalidaa,
Xigtiyo gacal baad tihiin, geed iyo xidid baad tihiin,
Guntaad ka mideysan tihiin,
Guuleystoo wadajiroo, Ilaah garabkiina joog,
Though I may be able to conceal flaws and shortcomings,
And cover the wounds within me with cloth and garments,
I cannot spread it through verse, I cannot spread it through verse.
For a wrong that happened before my birth, I cannot divide the land,
Wisdom told me, a people who cannot be torn apart,
Rather than trying to divide them, be the one who brings them together.
At the end, O noble Somali people,
You are kith and kin, you are tree and root together.
At your foundation, you are one.
Succeed, and stay as one, May God remain beside you.
It’s a beautiful and deeply respectful appeal for Somalis to come together. Saalax is not denying that wounds exist, nor is he pretending that conflict has not shaped Somali life. Instead, he is asking what responsibility a young person has in the aftermath of divisions they did not create. When he sings that he cannot divide the land over a wrong that happened before he was born, he is claiming a remarkable agency over how he, and to large extent Somali youth, chooses to inherit history.
That is what makes the song powerful. Saalax speaks to young people who inherit political and clan divisions before they are old enough to question them. He chooses another path, and asks them to do the same. He shows that he does not have to carry old wounds. He can help heal them.
By example, Saalax shows that a young Somali artist in the Horn of Africa can move through the world with his own values and ethos. In 2024, the same year he released “Somali Waa Gob,” he performed at the Jiilka Maanta Festival in Mogadishu, produced by Elman Peace. It was not his first performance in the city, but the timing felt especially fitting: a song about unity performed before an audience of young people who had grown up in the shadow of conflict and political strife.
The following year, Saalax began 2025 with a New Year’s show in Nairobi, then went on to stage a Valentine’s Day concert in Djibouti. There, he released “Gabdaha Reer Djibouti” and performed it for a packed audience overjoyed to have a song dedicated to them. After a brief stay in Hargeisa during the summer, where he performed at his manager’s wedding, he continued his tour with a show in Jigjiga in September 2025. Again, the audience was filled with young people recording his every line.
In this way, Saalax is not only singing about Somali unity. He is practicing it. The dream of all Somali territories under one flag has not come true. But Saalax still treats every Somali city as worthy of the same love and respect. That is no small thing. Somali artists still face limits on movement, restrictions and repression, and resources challenges. So it matters that a young singer can perform across so many of the cities Somalis call home. Saalax is, in the truest sense, an artist of his people.
When it comes to his music, Saalax’s calm demeanor never dulls the beauty of the songs he sings. If anything, it sharpens them. His love songs are often gentle, direct, and emotionally mature. In “Calaf” (Fate) he sings to a former love with tenderness rather than bitterness. He says he will only accept praise about her, never negativity. He accepts that their love has ended as “God’s” will, but makes clear that he will continue to carry her memory and wish her happiness. In the music video, he watches her from a distance while also reckoning privately with the reality that their relationship has changed. What stands out is that he sings with love and acceptance in equal measure. By the end of the video, when the two come together and speak, the respect he has carried throughout the song becomes visible.
In “Waad Ileedahay,” Saalax is more openly romantic, singing unapologetically about love in a way that is direct and easy to receive. Rather than relying on dense metaphors, the lyrics are clear and accessible. One of his most popular songs, “Ismaan Dhaaf” is a slower tempo love song, with the words evoking a deeper connection than the song before. In this video compared to Calaf- he refuses to let this love die quickly and you see him continuously reach out to her to reconcile. Throughout these songs he offers sparks of love, heartbreak and the messiness of matters of the heart.
One of his most beautiful songs is not romantic at all. “Walaal,” written and performed for his friend Hibaaq Gobaad’s wedding, is about friendship, chosen family, and the people closest to Saalax.
Hibaaq is herself a prominent Somali musician. That makes the moment even richer. This was not only one artist honoring a friend. It was one beloved voice in Somali music honoring another. At the time, Saalax was in Kenya. Hibaaq had said online that she was worried about him because he was sick and had not answered her calls. That detail stayed with me. It was her wedding day, yet she was worried about him. Then he arrived as a surprise. He came with a song made just for her. In “Walaal,” he sings that no matter where he was in the world, he would never have missed her big day. He begins by praising who she is. He ends with prayers for a beautiful life for her and her new family. The moment was so moving that Hibaaq began to cry as he sang.
The favor was soon returned. Months later, when Saalax celebrated his own wedding in Hargeisa, Hibaaq stood by his side as Ali Zaki sang “Dhayal Maaha Walaalnimadeenu.” Ali Zaki is another prominent Somali musician, which made the moment feel even more meaningful. Once again, Somali artists were not only performing for one another. They were honoring the bonds between them. These bright moments reveal another side of Saalax’s work: the importance of being rooted in relationships.
Saalax’s artistic activism does not exist in a vacuum. Within Somali culture, artists have long played a role in speaking to society, shaping public feeling, promoting togetherness, and challenging injustice. Ali Sugulle, also known as Dun Carbeed, wrote some of the most memorable songs about Somali social life. “Gabdhuhu Waxay Leeyihiin,” sung by Ahmed Naaji Sacad, was written to encourage marriage in the early 1980s. Maxamed Mooge Liibaan was not only a singer and teacher, but also joined the SNM and took up arms in the struggle for his people’s freedom. Poets such as Mohamed Ibrahim Warsame, known as Hadraawi, and Abdi Qays were imprisoned in the 1970s for political poetry and songwriting that opposed the Barre regime. In the early 2000s, Hadraawi also marched across southern Somalia alongside other musicians to promote peace and unity.
This history matters because Somali artists have never been only entertainers. They have been teachers, critics, witnesses, mobilizers, and keepers of memory. They carry messages through melody, poetry, performance, and public presence. Saalax belongs to that lineage, but he also represents a new generation of Somali artists shaped by social media, migration, fragmented politics, and young audiences searching for belonging.
From songs that call for Somalinimo and togetherness, to shows across the Horn, to wedding performances for the people closest to him, Saalax keeps returning to the same ethos. He shows up. For unity. For celebration. For heartbreak. For love. His music returns to the same idea: we belong to one another. That, more than anything, is the role of an artist. Not only to entertain, but to hold a mirror to society and remind it of who it is.