Somaliland’s Merry-Go-Round Judicial system

A credible, impartial, and independent judiciary is the backbone of any democratic society and a central pillar of effective state-building. When courts uphold the rule of law, they protect individual rights, restrain the abuse of power, and ensure that justice is administered fairly and transparently. Without a strong judiciary, even the most carefully crafted constitutions and political institutions cannot function as intended. Laws lose their force, rights become symbolic, and public trust erodes. For emerging states and those navigating political transitions, a capable judiciary is the foundation upon which stability, legitimacy, and democratic governance must be built.

In Somaliland, however, the judiciary has increasingly become the focus of public concern. Over the past decade, serious questions have emerged regarding the independence, professionalism, and overall integrity of the court system. I have personally engaged with Somaliland’s judicial machinery for nearly fourteen years. This article is not about the details of my own legal experiences, nor is it an attempt to revisit past cases. Rather, it is a reflection informed by long-term, direct involvement in the courts, an involvement that has offered a front-row view of how the system actually functions.

As the Ministry of Justice prepares to convene a national conference on December 2nd to discuss judicial reform, I believe it is essential that voices from within the system, whether legal professionals or ordinary citizens who have spent years navigating it, are heard. Those of us who have interacted repeatedly with the courts possess insights that are difficult to capture from the outside and are vital to any genuine reform effort.

What follows are the observations of a concerned citizen. Readers can evaluate these reflections for themselves and draw their own conclusions. My aim is to speak candidly, without fear or favour, about the judiciary’s most pressing shortcomings and the urgent reforms required to build a justice system that is credible, principled, and fearless.

Somaliland’s legal framework has developed through the interaction of customary, Islamic, and statutory laws. Prior to colonial rule, our society relied primarily on customary law, a traditional system of dispute resolution that, at the time, proved more effective in practice than Islamic law. Even after customary norms merged with Islamic principles, the customary system remained dominant. With colonization came the introduction of statutory law, which was subsequently integrated into existing legal practices, producing a hybrid legal order.

Today, Somaliland’s legal system draws from three principal sources — civil law, Sharia law, and customary law — each governing aspects of both civil and criminal matters. Islamic law occupies a central position in shaping the Constitution and legal procedures, reflecting the overwhelmingly Muslim character of the population. Legislation that conflicts with Sharia principles is considered, in most cases, “illegitimate,” and informal Sharia-based courts continue to adjudicate matters concerning family, inheritance and marriages.

More broadly, however, Somaliland’s formal legal structure is grounded in English common law, consistent with the legacy of British administration in the region. The foundations of English common law can be traced to the Magna Carta of 1215, a royal charter issued by King John of England. The Magna Carta articulated a transformative legal principle for its time: that all persons, including the monarch, are subject to the law. This principle ultimately evolved into what is now known as the rule of law.

The Magna Carta is considered a cornerstone of modern democracy because it introduced fundamental protections, such as prohibiting the imprisonment or seizure of property without lawful judgment. Today, only four original copies survive: two in the British Library and one each in Salisbury and Lincoln Cathedral.

The Structure of Somaliland’s Courts

The processes of “Review Judgment” and “Block Judgment” were both introduced during the tenure of Chief Justice Adan Haji Ali. They were designed to allow additional review of Supreme Court decisions. However, this innovation contradicts the Somaliland Constitution, which clearly states that the Supreme Court is the highest judicial authority and that its judgments are final.

Why are our courts a “Merry-Go-Round”?

The answer is straightforward: our courts rarely issue final judgments. Litigants can appeal virtually any decision, at any stage, without providing new evidence or demonstrating that an error occurred. Judges do not challenge or dismiss appeals, and the system itself encourages this perpetual escalation. The result is a judicial “merry-go-round” that spins endlessly.

To illustrate this dysfunction, I will share one case I personally witnessed. A man died leaving two wives. Before his death, he had purchased a second-hand Suzuki vehicle for about $3,000 and registered it in the name of his second wife. After his death, the son from his first marriage sued the stepmother, claiming ownership of the vehicle.

Despite the ownership documents being clear, this simple dispute traveled through the entire court system. The District Court first ruled in favor of the second wife, and the Regional Court later upheld that decision. The case then proceeded to the Appeal Court, which again confirmed the same outcome, and, astonishingly, the Supreme Court also upheld the ruling. Whether or not the son attempted further review is beside the point — the fact remains that a minor property dispute that should have been resolved at the Regional Court level consumed at least one, possibly two, full years of court time and resources. It is absurd that such a small, straightforward case reached the highest court in the country.

The courts of Somaliland do not command the prestige that a justice system should embody. Citizens come to court seeking justice, fairness, and impartiality. Anyone who visits the District, Regional, Appeal, or Supreme Court on a working day will see the overwhelming number of people waiting anxiously for their cases to be heard, ordinary citizens hoping for justice.

Yet it is painfully clear that the Supreme Court delays judgments deliberately, wearing down litigants until they give up or settle under pressure. This is not justice, but institutionalized frustration. The Chief Justice, like every judge, has sworn an oath to deliver justice “without fear or favour.” The current pattern of persistent delays undermines this oath.

Delays in the courts often raise the question: how do they happen? Supreme Court cases are typically heard by a panel of five judges, with one serving as the chair. After the hearings conclude, the chair convenes the judges to discuss the case and reach a verdict, with each judge having an equal vote.

However, I have irrefutable evidence of cases in which the chairperson simply never convened the meeting, not for months, but for years. Litigants are still waiting for judgments. Meanwhile, the other judges on the panel do not intervene or insist that the chair move the case toward a decision. The only explanation I can think of is that judges fear being accused of having personal motives if they push for a ruling. This fear has paralyzed the system.

Somaliland’s judicial “merry-go-round” will continue indefinitely unless the system undergoes meaningful reform. What is required is not a minor adjustment but a comprehensive overhaul of the entire appellate process. The current practice, where appeals are treated as an automatic right regardless of merit, should be abolished. Instead, appeals should only proceed when they are grounded in genuine legal reasoning, supported by evidence, and justified by clear criteria. Under a reformed model, appellate courts would first examine the appeal petition, the written arguments of both parties, and the complete record of the lower court, including its hearings and judgments. Only after this initial review should they decide whether the appeal deserves to move forward.

Once an appeal is properly evaluated, the appellate court should reach one of three outcomes. It may affirm the judgment of the lower court, thereby declare the decision final and uphold its validity. It may reverse the decision if it finds that the lower court committed a legal or procedural error. Or it may remand the case, sending it back to the trial court for further proceedings when additional clarification or fact-finding is required. This is how functional judicial systems maintain both efficiency and credibility.

In most countries, the Supreme Court hears only a very small number of cases each year. This is because its decisions create binding precedent for the entire nation, shaping the interpretation of laws for decades to come. As a result, only cases that raise issues of national importance, constitutional meaning, or significant legal ambiguity reach the highest court. The Supreme Court’s role is therefore not to handle routine disputes, but to resolve questions that affect the entire legal system.

Somaliland’s system operates in the opposite manner. Appeals climb endlessly up the ladder, even in simple or minor matters, overwhelming the courts and diluting the authority of lower levels. When the Supreme Court is forced to spend its time on cases that should have been resolved early in the process, it cannot perform its essential role of clarifying the law and setting national standards. The absence of clear precedents means that lower courts make inconsistent judgments, litigants lose confidence, and cases drag on for years. Justice becomes something that can be stalled and manipulated rather than something delivered promptly and fairly.

These problems reflect deeper structural and managerial issues within the judiciary. In highlighting the appeal merry-go-round, my intention is to draw attention to one of the most damaging flaws in the system. In future discussions, I hope to examine other areas in greater detail. At this stage, my focus is on process and institutional design rather than technical legal interpretation. Lawyers and legal scholars can debate doctrinal points, but the public can already see what years of experience have made clear: corruption affects both judges and lawyers, delays have become normalized, and the system in its current form is failing the people it is meant to serve. Somaliland needs an honest recognition of these failures and a commitment to rebuild a justice system that is efficient, credible, and worthy of the public’s trust.