This year has been a real learning curve for me, both personally and professionally. Working as a doctor in Somalia has given me a front-row seat to the complexities of leadership, relationships, and the realities of our nation’s political landscape.
At the start of the year, I was lucky enough to be given the chance to step up and take on a leadership role when our hospital director, who I work closely with, went on a three-month vacation. I was put in charge of the surgery department, which really tested my understanding of leadership. My predecessor was more of a command-and-control leader, focusing on meetings and pointing out small mistakes. I decided to try a different approach.
I learned that leadership is about understanding people and adapting your style. Are you more of a commander, a guide, or a motivator? I came to understand that leading effectively means setting an example. If I wanted people to be on time, I needed to be the first to arrive. If I wanted to create a positive, friendly environment, I had to chat with my team in a relaxed way. There were challenges along the way, but I faced them head-on with honesty and preparation. I learned that micromanaging never works, so I let my team take responsibility, learn, and grow.
My main goal was to put the patient first, the staff second, and the hospital’s finances third. This experience really showed me that leadership isn’t about controlling people, but empowering them, building trust and mutual respect.
On a personal level, this year brought its own set of challenges when it came to navigating relationships. I’ve found it tricky to date within my culture. I have no trouble interacting with women in different settings, but dating feels different for me. I’m introverted and it takes time for me to open up. For instance, I once tried to date a woman I met at a networking event. At first, we talked about our jobs, which helped us get to know each other better and build trust. However, when we started talking about dating and marriage, we realized there were some cultural misunderstandings.
In Somali culture, when a man is serious about a woman, it’s customary to involve her family early on. There’s a saying that goes: “You don’t just marry the woman, you marry her family.” Normally, the woman lets her family know about the relationship and they evaluate the man’s character. If they’re on board, they give the woman their blessing to proceed. This system is designed to ensure compatibility and avoid wasting time on relationships that lack familial support.
When I suggested meeting her family, I said I’d prefer a neutral setting, like a hotel or café, rather than their home. I thought this would help to create a more relaxed atmosphere. However, she got upset because, in Somali culture, meeting the family outside the home is often seen as casual or unserious, which can imply intentions that are short of marriage. This misunderstanding really affected me. I was trying to make things easier for her, but it ended up offending her. It just goes to show how navigating cultural norms can be both complex and emotionally challenging.
Despite a few hiccups, I’m happy to say that I’ve met my future wife this year, and we’re planning our wedding for early 2017. This journey taught me patience, respect, and the importance of genuine communication.
2016 was an election year for Somalia, with votes for parliament, the newly reformed Senate, and the presidency. It was a time when politics was on everyone’s minds, and suddenly, everyone seemed important. Politicians were out and about, mixing with the public, and many people started to see themselves as influential just because they were around the leaders. I found myself right in the middle of it all.
There was a national consultative conference held in Kismayo, which brought together Somalia’s top leaders. I was lucky enough to work as a doctor during the event, helping out with things like headaches, high blood pressure, stress-induced anger, and high blood sugars (often caused by overeating).
What really stood out was meeting people who were considered the “crème de la crème” of Somalia. I was surprised to find that they were actually quite ordinary—and not in a good way. I was really disappointed by what I saw. They were scheming openly, speaking without any vision, and only caring about themselves. Many of them were uneducated, selfish, and even lacking in basic leadership qualities.
What upset me the most was how everything seemed for sale, even the national interest. It was as if nothing was sacred. I left the conference feeling really concerned about the future of our country. May Allah save us all!
2016 has shown that when it comes to leadership, relationships, or Somalia, it’s all about the same core values: empathy, integrity, and a commitment to the greater good. Real change happens not through grand gestures, but small, consistent actions that put humanity and collective well-being first.
As we look ahead to 2017, I’m optimistic that, despite the challenges, we can build a better future—one action at a time.