Social media is a complete mess when it comes to sensitive, nuanced issues especially those within our community. A lot of what gets framed as “raising awareness” ends up doing more harm than good. Here are a few things I’ve noticed.
1. Our culture is out in the open.
Somali culture has always been expressive and community-oriented. Privacy, especially around problems, isn’t really something we do. If there’s drama, conflict, or controversy everyone is going to know. Our issues get broadcasted within the community and beyond, whether it’s on TikTok, community WhatsApp groups, or even Somali media outlets.
A good example is the Moroccan passport bros situation — something so small, but somehow our entire community got dragged into it, and people took that opportunity to air all our dirty laundry. That openness, while rooted in our cultural love for storytelling and accountability, ends up feeding sensationalist narratives. It makes our problems easy targets for outsiders to mock, dissect, or generalize often without any understanding of the context.
2. We don’t get the same empathy we give.
One thing I’ve noticed is that we’re incredibly critical of ourselves more so than we are of others. It comes from this mindset of tough love, of wanting to see our people do better and rise above. We hold ourselves to high standards, but at the same time, we extend grace and understanding to other communities when they go through things. We give them the benefit of the doubt.
But when it’s our turn, that same grace isn’t extended to us. Instead, we’re viewed through a lens of prejudice — as if our issues are a result of something wrong with us. Like
@trf said: we’re not white, so the sympathy is limited. People don’t see our struggles as societal or systemic, but as proof of our “backwardness.” The narrative quickly becomes, “Look at these people — broken culture, broken homes, broken mindset.” It’s not fair, and it’s not true, but that’s how we’re painted when we try to bring our issues to the global stage.
3. No one is coming to save us.
A lot of the “awareness” we try to raise is done in English, on Western platforms, for Western eyes — but what exactly is the goal? Who are we expecting to fix our problems? The more we air things out publicly, the more it gets picked apart by people who don’t care about our healing, just the drama.
We have to stop relying on external validation or global outrage to drive our conversations. Real change doesn’t come from going viral — it comes from grassroots efforts, community dialogue, and internal work. It’s not glamorous. It’s not aesthetic. But it’s necessary. If we want to protect our community and push for real growth, we need to build from the bottom up — with care, with accountability, and with protection from harmful outside narratives.