Why was anti-corruption MP Abdillahi Abib ousted from parliament?

Is being expelled from the parliament of a country ranked 179th out of 180 for corruption a problem, or an unusual badge of honour? The case of Abdillahi Hashi Abib, a Somali MP campaigning against corruption, who was recently expelled, offers a compelling case study. 

A recently released report by Abib, one of Somalia’s most outspoken members of parliament and a determined anti-corruption campaigner, has uncovered an unprecedented financial misconduct scheme involving senior parliamentary officials, including the speaker of the house of the people, Adan Mohamed Nur, better known as Adan Madobe. The report, based on what MP Abib described as a “five-month analysis of central bank records,” alleges the embezzlement of over $3.56 million through “fraudulent” contracts, inflated procurements, and “fabricated” expenditures. 

If true, that figure is astronomical, and doubly so because it is occurring in a country where the GDP per capita is just over $500, according to the World Bank.  

The report highlights several areas of malfeasance. One of the most striking is the alleged misdirection of $833,396.91 through inflated catering contracts, awarded without a competitive bidding process, to three Mogadishu-based vendors, as Abib claims in his report. Another instance of systematic and unprecedented corruption noted in the report is the existence of identical daily charges and duplicated invoices, in Abib described as sums “vastly exceeding reasonable estimates for MPs and parliamentary staff.” Similarly, nearly $200,000 earmarked for MP “welfare disbursements” reportedly never reached the lawmakers, with no documentation or beneficiary records—what the report terms a “ghost scheme” diverting funds elsewhere. 

The most striking accusations in the report were directed at the sitting speaker of parliament, Adan Madobe. The report noted that nearly $300,000 was authorized for housing expenses, despite the Speaker residing in a “private villa.” It also stated that there were no documented rent agreements to justify these payments. 

These findings are part of a long list of unprecedented “corruption scandals” revealed by the MP during his first tenure in parliament. Over the past three years, his work as a representative has focused entirely on exposing numerous corruption scandals. However, this focus has recently caused a major political shake-up. 

Abdillahi Hashi Abib is a first-term parliamentarian who has rapidly emerged as an unconventional figure in Somali politics. Unlike his colleagues in the rather dysfunctional parliament, he has dedicated his tenure to fighting against corruption. This has positioned him as one of the first anti-corruption campaigners in post-civil war Somali politics, making him one of the most recognised figures in the current parliament. He has garnered exceptional public and social media support from people frustrated, and in some cases disgusted, by the manner in which Somali politics is conducted. 

This has positioned him as one of the first anti-corruption campaigners in post-civil war Somali politics, making him one of the most recognised figures in the current parliament. 

Hailing from Awdal region, the MP is a vocal nationalist who, as he recently claimed, has refused to dilute his principles for political expediency. This has made him a target: political heavyweights, including his colleagues in parliament, have launched sustained attacks on his credibility and loyalty to the country. Ilyas, another MP who is a staunch ally of the incumbent president, Hassan Sheikh Mohamud, has accused Abib of treason, declaring: “I have doubts about whether Abib works for the United States or for Somalia”, referring to a complaint he sent to the US government about corruption.  

Just two days before Abib’s most recent report, the house speaker released a statement announcing that Abib had been expelled from parliament and had lost his seat. The speaker invoked what critics described as constitutional loopholes to justify the decision. Rashid Abdi, a Horn of Africa analyst, wrote that Madobe relied on a “flimsy technicality” to suspend Abib, whereas, Professor Abdi Ismail Samatar, a more widely respected academic and senator, said the expulsion letter was “null and void” as two-thirds of parliament need to back an expulsion of an MP in a post on social media.  

The statement by the house speaker further declared that Abib’s seat was now vacant and called for his constituency to nominate a replacement. However, in a swift response, his clan leaders released their own statement rejecting the speaker’s decision. They insisted that Abib would remain their legitimate representative and vowed to challenge the expulsion. “It’s my firm belief that he has the right to continue in his role without interference,” said Sultan Samatar Sultan Ibrahim in a statement. “Those who serve with honour should be protected, not obstructed,” the clan elder added.  

The HoP’s leadership decision, however, did not sit well with the public, which responded with an outpouring of solidarity and support for Abib. “I condemn the disgraceful act committed by Speaker Aadan. The Members of the House of the People should stand against this,” one outraged citizen remarked. Another person sarcastically commented: “If you point out thieves and say, ‘You are thieves,’ they will call you a thief in return.” 

It was not just the public that rallied behind Abib. Shortly after the speaker’s statement was released, more than 100 members of parliament spoke to the media, declaring their support for him. 

It was not just the public that rallied behind Abib. Shortly after the speaker’s statement was released, more than 100 members of parliament spoke to the media, declaring their support for him. “As we know, MP Abib has taken a stand to expose the corruption committed by the government,” stated one of the MPs who spoke with the media. During the press conference, the MPs issued a direct warning, threatening that the speaker would be removed from his seat if he did not withdraw his decision: “Chairman, if you pursue this matter, you will lose your position.” 

In an interview with Daljir Media, MP Abdullahi Farah Mire said that Abib is a victim of a political witch hunt. “As the Somali public knows, never have more than 140 MPs attended a parliamentary session. Targeting Abib is a personal matter, not one based on legality,” Mire said. 

The motive behind MP Abib’s expulsion remains questionable, as he became the first MP to be expelled from parliament on the grounds of Article 59. Somalia’s parliament is notoriously filled with absentee MPs and many of those who attend sessions rarely contribute to shaping policy. However, his response to the decision was clear. Five days later, Abib himself tweeted that one of the main reasons for his expulsion was his firm fight against corruption. “My investigation into accountability has exposed widespread corruption and financial mismanagement across nearly all government projects. Not a single dollar of international aid has escaped corruption, mismanagement, or diversion for personal interests,” his statement read. 

But the larger question is whether the Somali public takes this parliament and the decisions they are making seriously, the implications of such decisions, and the type of precedent they set.

It was just a few weeks ago—though not the first time—that chaos erupted in parliament when MPs began insulting each other on the podium. The commotion started when an MP verbally attacked colleagues from the Somaliland region, referring to them as “refugees” in a derogatory manner. Many people reacted with anger, questioning the competence of the MPs and whether they possess the aptitude to represent a population of over 10 million people struggling with poverty, the climate crisis, and ongoing conflicts. 

Somalis across the country expected parliament to serve as the representative body of the people, ensuring that the voices, concerns, and aspirations of citizens are reflected in national decision-making. They were elected to enact laws and oversee the government’s actions. They were entrusted with the duty to hold the executive branch accountable, preventing the abuse of power and ensuring that national policies align with the interests of the people. 

When the leadership resorts to political witch hunts, as the case of Abib indicates, in order to shield the administration rather than hold the executive branch accountable, what they are projecting is clear: an image of incompetence and dysfunction to both their constituents and the country. This damages the reputation of the House of the People and weakens the credibility of its legislative processes. 

In a strange way, the decision confirms what most Somalis understand about their political class: corruption isn’t a bug or a quirk in the system; it is the system. Abib just didn’t want to play along.  

Returning to the house speaker’s decision and its implications, one thing is certain—this isn’t just about parliamentary procedure; it’s about power and imposing cost for dissent. While some might argue the legality of Article 59, the reactions from across the political aisle, Abib’s own constituency, and the wider public suggest most people don’t view the matter the same way as the parliamentary speaker. He refused to play the only game in town and, as a result, placed a political target on his back. Whether revered or reviled, his advocacy and anti-corruption efforts came at a price, and now he’s paying it with his seat. That alone should unsettle the public and will put other MPs worried about corruption on notice. Any MP who dares to challenge the status quo will risk political annihilation. And worse, it proves that those in power can—and will—exploit any constitutional loophole to legally dress up repression. In a strange way, the decision confirms what most Somalis understand about their political class: corruption isn’t a bug or a quirk in the system; it is the system. Abib just didn’t want to play along.  

For an embryonic parliamentary system built on a fragile, exclusionary clan-based power-sharing formula, a targeted political witch-hunt sets a dangerous precedent. Such actions threaten to turn an already unstable system into a deeply dysfunctional one, where loyalty to the administration takes precedence over parliamentary rules and procedures. Moreover, if political rivalries escalate into targeted purges, the country’s delicate framework could collapse before it even has a chance to solidify.