Op-Ed: Somalia Between the Promise of Oil and the Test of Statehood

What exactly is this oil everyone is talking about these days? Are we truly on the brink of a discovery that could reshape the country, or are we once again caught in a wave of optimism that runs ahead of reality? And even if oil is there, is the real issue its existence—or how we manage it? Who said wealth alone is enough to fix a country? Or are we simply repackaging illusion in a more convincing form?

The excitement is not hard to understand. Countries that have endured long crises often look less for hard truths and more for something that can ease the weight of reality. Any big promise becomes attractive—especially one that appears capable of accelerating recovery. But the problem is not hope itself. It is how that hope is handled, and how quickly it turns from a fragile possibility into something treated as fact.

What we are witnessing today goes beyond healthy optimism. It is drifting into premature certainty. Positive signals, however encouraging, do not mean that discovery is guaranteed, nor that revenues are just around the corner. Yet public discourse often speaks as if the matter is already settled—as if Somalia has already entered the age of oil.

But does repeating an idea make it real? Have global experiences shown that the path from discovery to stability is smooth and direct? Or have they shown the opposite—that when resources arrive before institutions, they tend to become a source of tension rather than progress?

At the heart of the issue is a more uncomfortable question: is the problem really the absence of oil, or our inability to agree on how to manage it? Who controls the decisions? Who defines the shares? Who ensures accountability? These are not technical details—they are the core of the matter. Without answers, talk of billions sounds more like rhetoric than serious analysis.

This confusion between possibility and outcome is not new. But in Somalia’s case, it is more dangerous because it overlaps with an unsettled political landscape. Betting on a resource whose rules are not yet defined is not confidence—it is a way of avoiding difficult questions.

Of course, people need hope. That is undeniable. But hope without calculation can easily turn into collective self-deception. Optimism does not erase complexity. And history reminds us that many countries have suffered not from a lack of resources, but from an inability to manage them.

What we are seeing today is not just optimism—it is something closer to an economy of expectations. With every announcement, the promise grows. With every delay, the belief somehow deepens. The danger is that this creates a parallel psychological reality where expectations outpace what is actually possible. When that happens, delays are no longer seen as technical setbacks—they become crises of trust, with political and social consequences that may be more damaging than the absence of oil itself.

The real question, then, is simple but difficult: is the state ready? Not in words, but in structure. Are there institutions capable of oversight? Is there a legal framework that everyone accepts? Or will any future wealth fall into a vacuum that fuels new tensions?