Where’s Laftagareen? The 24-hour president who showed power… then vanished
Baidoa did not just witness a political fall. It watched a man try to prove he was still in control, only to lose everything almost immediately after.
Laftagareen did not go quietly at first. In the days leading up to this, he moved like someone trying to send a message. He assembled forces, revived and reshaped the RRA, and put soldiers on display in parades across Baidoa. It was meant to show strength, to remind everyone that he still had men, still had authority, still had the ground.
Then came the election. Fast, controversial, and rejected almost instantly by Mogadishu and opposition figures. But he pushed it through anyway and declared himself president again.
For a brief moment, it looked like he was doubling down.
But that moment did not last.
Within 24 hours, everything flipped.
Federal forces, backed by fighters aligned with his rivals, moved toward Baidoa. Clashes broke out on the outskirts, then spread inward. It was sharp, quick, and decisive. This was not a long war for the city, it was a sudden shift in control.
What made it even more striking was what happened inside Baidoa itself. The city did not rise to defend him. Many residents came out in support of his removal. There had been frustration building for a long time, and when the moment came, it surfaced.
People spoke about how life had become difficult under his rule. Families struggling to bury their dead with dignity. The sick and injured facing barriers to treatment. Basic things that should never become political had become exactly that.
At the same time, cracks within his own base had widened. Subclans within his clan felt pushed aside, excluded from power and resources. One arm was seen as controlling everything, government, security, money, while others were left watching from the outside. That kind of imbalance does not stay quiet forever.
So when pressure came from outside, there was little resistance from within.
And then, just like that, he stepped down.
No long speech. No final stand. Just a short message posted online saying he was resigning.
Hours later, he was gone.
Now the question is not how he lost power, but where he went.
Some say there was a quiet agreement, that his exit was arranged to avoid more bloodshed, possibly even involving a direct extraction from Baidoa. Others believe he fled, heading toward Kismayo to stay low, waiting for things to cool before eventually moving on, likely to Kenya.
No one has confirmed anything. And that uncertainty is what keeps the story alive.
What stands out most is the contrast. Days before, he was parading soldiers, rebuilding forces, declaring elections, showing everyone he was still the man in charge. Less than a day later, he was no longer president, no longer in the city, and nowhere to be seen.
Power in Somalia can look solid right up until the moment it disappears.
Laftagareen’s final move was meant to prove he was still standing. Instead, it showed how quickly the ground beneath him had already given way.
