Deportations between the United States and Somalia: He was an Uber driver in the United States. Now he is afraid of jihadists in Somalia

Mahad Mohamud is slowly readjusting to the heat, chaos and tension of Somalia’s capital, Mogadishu, after being deported from the American city of Minneapolis last month just as winter approached there.

Somalis know the 36-year-old as Garyaqaan, a word that can be translated as “judge.”

This is the name he uses on TikTok, where he attracted almost half a million followers while abroad. Fans praised Mahad for his advocacy for the interests of his clan, part of Somalia’s lucrative TikTok roasting subculture..

But for those who direct the “Rapid Response 47”, linked to the White House, Account X, Mahad was a “criminal illegal bastard.” In an October publication, he accused him of being “involved in the kidnapping of French officials” in a hotel in the Somali capital.

Mahad denied the allegation and said he was not in Mogadishu at the time. He was never convicted and the case was dropped.

He says his detention by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) was triggered after a rival TikToker leaked his address.

“ICE told me they had two cases against me: one for illegal entry into the country and one for kidnapping a French official.”

Mahad said the kidnapping case was handled by the FBI and after questioning him, he was acquitted.

But that did not save him from being deported.

His journey from Somalia to the United States began more than a decade ago and took him first to South Africa, where he lived until 2021. But he says he was robbed by gunmen in a xenophobic attack.

He then went to Brazil and headed north, finally crossing into the United States, without documentation, across the border with Mexico.

“When I jumped the fence from Mexico, they arrested me and detained me for a month,” Mahad says.

“I was later released on a work permit because my asylum case was active.”

He then headed to Minneapolis. “I used to work as an Uber driver. I was happy to finally be in dreamland. I hoped they would accept me.”

Her TikTok career also took off, providing her with a steady income as fans sent her gifts while watching her live streams. He also sparked a threat on his life from the Somalia-based Islamist militant group al-Shabab due to his defense of the government.

Part of his asylum case in the United States was based on that threat.

Mahad describes in vivid detail the May morning when immigration agents arrested him this year.

Shortly after breakfast, he headed to his car, thinking he was about to start another day driving Uber.

“Boom, they came for me,” he says.

According to Mahad, he was taken on a 30-minute ride to ICE headquarters that serves Minneapolis and its twin city of St Paul, before being transferred on a six-hour ride to the Kandiyohi County Jail in Willmar, Minnesota, where he says he spent six months in detention.

He tells the BBC that he spent three of those months waiting for a decision on his asylum case and the remaining three waiting for deportation. Authorities denied his asylum request because they rejected the idea that he was in danger in Somalia.

Mahad says there were brief periods when he was transferred to Arizona, where the deportation fights begin, but each time he was told the logistical arrangements were not ready.

On one of these trips, he was part of a group of 39 detainees, including citizens of Kenya, Ethiopia and Eritrea, in a holding area for people waiting to board deportation flights.

Finally, when it was time for his own departure, Mahad says he was put in a tight-fitting containment jacket and traveled on a small plane with seven other deportees and some guards.

The trip took them first to Costa Rica in Central America, then to Senegal in West Africa, before flying to Kenya’s capital, Nairobi. There, Mahad says they took off his safety vest, handcuffed him and put him on another plane bound for Mogadishu.

After spending three months waiting to be deported, Mahad had already resigned himself to his fate and was not particularly excited upon his return.

After a decade apart, she has finally been reunited with her three children. “I wouldn’t trade this moment for anything now… I haven’t seen them in 10 years,” Mahad says.

But he would still prefer to be in the United States because he fears for his life after receiving text messages from Al Shabab containing death threats.

He takes extra security precautions when he is away and lives in a well-protected home, but he did not want to go into further detail or share the content of the threats, for security reasons.

Upon his return, Mahad was welcomed by many people in his clan, including local politicians, thanks to his TikTok profile. He understands that thanks to his presence on social networks he can obtain opportunities that are not available to other Somalis deported – or threatened with deportation – from the United States.

Last month, President Donald Trump said he would end temporary protected status that is supposed to prevent people from being deported while their home country is unsafe.

Earlier this month, he upped the ante, saying he doesn’t want Somali immigrants in the United States and telling reporters they should “go back to where they came from” and that “their country is no good for a reason.”

Somalia has not had a central government controlling the entire country since the overthrow of President Siad Barre in 1991. The people have had to endure years of near anarchy and insecurity, and even now, even though there is a government in Mogadishu, Islamist militants still dominate much of the country and occasionally stage attacks on the capital.

Trump’s comments came after he was questioned about large-scale fraud in the state of Minnesota’s welfare program.

Dozens of people have been charged in a scheme that federal prosecutors say involved a charity fraudulently billing the state government for meals for children during the Covid-19 pandemic.

Several Somali immigrants were involved in this alleged plan.

In the wake of the president’s comments about Somalis, videos have circulated on social media that appear to show immigration agents knocking on doors in Minneapolis, which includes an area known as Little Mogadishu, and St Paul.

For many members of the city’s Somali community, the largest in the United States and numbering around 80,000 people, the posts have raised alarm bells.

The BBC also spoke to five young Somalis who now spend their days confined to a friend’s small house, moving carefully through rooms that are not their own. They abruptly left their rented apartment last week not because they wanted to, but because the lease was in their name.

As people who had been granted temporary protected status, they feared it would only be a matter of time before ICE tracked down the address and came looking for them. They grabbed what they could carry and slipped into the night, hoping the change in location would offer them some protection.

Now their lives are on hold. Work shifts are lost. Meals are skipped or extended. One of the men described how quickly everything went down: “We’re running out of food. We haven’t shown up to work for the last five days because we’re afraid ICE is waiting for us. I don’t know what will happen to us.”

Mahad is not the only one who has been deported to Somalia in recent months, although there are no official figures.

The BBC also spoke to another young Somali man, who asked to remain anonymous. He said he was struggling to rebuild his life in Mogadishu.

He was desperate to leave rural Somalia, as a prolonged drought had destroyed his livelihood. He crossed into the United States illegally across the Mexican border after traveling north from Brazil, but was detained shortly after. He spent 18 months in custody before being returned to Somalia.

Speaking on the phone, he describes feeling insecure about his future.

“They sent me back to start from scratch,” he says. “Everything I worked for just disappeared.”

He says he spent around $20,000 (£15,000) to get to the United States, including money he had borrowed from friends and family.

Since returning home, he has no money and says there are no opportunities in Somalia.

“I don’t see a future here,” he says. “It’s okay… there are no jobs.”

Now he is considering emigrating once again.

“I don’t want to start life again. I just want to emigrate to any country now.”