Dahir Hassan woke up in Burnsville to a text message that read, "You would be dead if you were here." There on his phone was a picture of his apartment in Mogadishu, its windows blown out by a massive bomb blast last weekend.
Undeterred, the former Minneapolis teacher flew back this week to join a growing relief effort in Somalia's capital, where he serves as an adviser in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.
The deadly terror attack brought profound grief, but it also galvanized efforts to help the shattered city. In Mogadishu, a small but high-powered contingent of Somali-Minnesotans sprang to action. They rode in ambulances with the injured, donated blood and held an intimate vigil for a Bloomington father who had arrived hours before the bombing, only to become one of more than 300 who died.
Here in Minnesota, those eager to help from afar have kicked off fundraisers at mosques and online. Some have turned to returnees for guidance, making them a crucial link between the local community — the largest North American Somali diaspora — and their East African homeland. The returnees' defiance gives them hope that the bloodshed will not upend Somalia's fragile recovery from more than two decades of civil war.
For Hassan, leaving behind his wife and five children in Burnsville was hard. But, he said, "I weighed my family's situation against the suffering of people in Somalia, and that brought me to the decision to go back and help."
Minnesota makes a mark
In recent years, a growing number of Minnesota Somalis have returned to the country of their roots to start businesses, work with nonprofits and run for office — frustrated sometimes that they are overshadowed by a much smaller number who have traveled to join militants there and in the Middle East. In the Somali-American caucus in parliament, seven members hail from Minnesota, said Sadik Warfa, who moved back last year from the Twin Cities and won a seat.
Abdi Aynte, the founder of a Mogadishu nonprofit research center, said he knows at least 50 Minnesotans actively engaged in rebuilding.
Hassan, the former Minneapolis educator, returned in 2013 to spend time with his ailing mother — and stuck around after she died. He first got a job with the ministry of agriculture, and in a tight-knit group of fellow Minnesotans, he discovered camaraderie and a sense of momentum.