Isiolo on Edge: Nuh Hajji’s Tribal Tirade Sparks Fury and Fears of Ethnic Exclusion Ahead of 2027

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Sports Fund CEO and gubernatorial hopeful Nuh Mohamed Ibrahim faces mounting backlash after openly rejecting Isiolo’s cosmopolitan identity and vowing to prioritize one community above all others

Isiolo County, once celebrated as a rare beacon of multicultural harmony in Kenya’s often fractious political landscape, is reeling from a storm of controversy triggered by none other than Nuh Mohamed Ibrahim – popularly known as Nuh Hajji – the Chief Executive Officer of the Sports Fund and a declared 2027 gubernatorial contender.

In a series of incendiary public statements delivered in the Borana dialect, flanked by allies Rehema Dida, MRQ, and former senator Abdulbari Ali Jillo, Nuh categorically rejected the long-standing description of Isiolo as a cosmopolitan county.

He alleged that the label is a deliberate tool used by “outsiders” to marginalize and undermine the Borana community – the same community he claims sole allegiance to.

“Isiolo is not cosmopolitan. That narrative is pushed to finish the Borana,” Nuh declared, dismissing the contributions, history, and very presence of Somali, Turkana, Meru, Samburu, and other communities that have called Isiolo home for generations.

He went further, announcing that every empowerment program and employment opportunity he has facilitated has been reserved exclusively for members of the Borana community.

Perhaps most alarmingly, sources present at the gathering say Nuh openly outlined a 2027 political blueprint that would see all elective seats in Isiolo County captured under a single ethnic banner – an unmistakable call for tribal domination rather than inclusive representation.

A Direct Threat to Decades of Peaceful Coexistence

For residents from non-Borana communities who own businesses, pay taxes, intermarry, and raise families in Isiolo, the remarks landed like a thunderbolt.

“Many of us woke up feeling like strangers in our own county,” said a prominent Somali elder who requested anonymity for fear of reprisals.

“We have invested here, buried our dead here, and defended this county together during hard times. To be told we don’t belong is not just painful – it is dangerous.”

Somali political leaders have been unequivocal in their condemnation, describing Nuh’s rhetoric as “insulting, regressive, and a direct assault on the fragile peace we have all worked so hard to maintain.”

Several have warned that such statements risk reopening old wounds many believed were long healed.

Even Borana Voices Rise in Rejection

Remarkably, Nuh Hajji’s tribal hardline stance has not found universal support even within his own community.

A number of respected Borana professionals, academics, and business leaders have publicly distanced themselves from his remarks, calling them “deeply regrettable and utterly counterproductive.”

One Borana elder and university lecturer told journalists off-record: “Leadership is about bringing people together, not tearing them apart. Isiolo’s strength has always been its diversity. Anyone who seeks to govern by excluding others is not fit to lead – period.”

Analysts: A Desperate Gamble That Could Backfire Spectacularly

Political commentators argue that Nuh’s strategy reveals a deeper crisis of vision. “What we are witnessing is grievance masquerading as empowerment,” says Halima Abduba, a governance expert based in Isiolo.

“Mobilizing one community by demonizing others might win short-term applause in certain quarters, but it is political suicide in a county as diverse as Isiolo.”

History backs this assessment. Past leaders who attempted to govern Isiolo through narrow ethnic lenses have consistently been rejected at the ballot box by a rainbow coalition of voters determined to protect the county’s hard-won harmony.

The Road to 2027: Will Voters Reward Division?

As the fallout continues, one thing is clear: Nuh Hajji’s gamble on blatant ethnic chauvinism has placed him under intense scrutiny.

Residents across the county – from Kulamawe to Oldonyiro, from Merti to Garbatulla – are making their voices heard: they want a governor who will build bridges, not burn them.

In the coming months and years, Isiolo voters will have a stark choice: reward a politics of exclusion that threatens to unravel decades of progress, or decisively reject it in favor of inclusive, visionary leadership that honors every resident equally.

For now, the message echoing from markets, mosques, churches, and manyattas is unanimous – Isiolo’s future must be built on unity, not division. And anyone preaching the opposite, no matter how loud, will find the county’s diversity is not a weakness to be exploited, but an unbreakable strength.

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