He was an Uber driver in the US. Now he’s scared of jihadists in Somalia

Mahad Mahmoud is slowly adapting to the heat, chaos and tension in the Somali capital, Mogadishu, after his deportation from the American city of Minneapolis last month as winter approaches there.

The 36-year-old is known by Somalis as “Garyaghan,” a word that can be translated as “judge.”

This is the name he uses on TikTok, where he has attracted nearly half a million followers while abroad. Fans praised Mahad for defending the interests of his clan, which is part of Somalia TikTok roasting subculture is profitable.

But for those who run “Rapid Response 47” associated with the White House X’s account, Mahad was a “despicable illegal criminal”. In an October post, she accused him of “involvement in the kidnapping of French officials” from a hotel in the Somali capital.

Mahad denied the allegations, saying he was not in Mogadishu at the time. He was never convicted and the case was dropped.

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

“Immigration and Customs Enforcement told me they have two cases against me, one for illegal entry into the country and the kidnapping of a French official.”

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

But that did not save him from deportation.

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

He then went to Brazil and headed north, eventually crossing into the United States, without documents, across the Mexican border.

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

“I was later released with a work permit because my asylum case was pending.”

Then he made his way to Minneapolis. “I was working as an Uber driver. I was happy because I had finally reached dreamland. I hoped they would accept me.”

His TikTok career also took off giving him a steady income as fans sent him gifts while watching his live stream. It also led to his life being threatened by the extremist Islamist group Al-Shabaab based in Somalia due to his defense of the government.

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

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

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

“Boo, they came for me,” he says.

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

He told the BBC that three of those months were spent awaiting a decision on his asylum case, and the remaining three were awaiting deportation. The authorities rejected his asylum application because they rejected the idea that he would be in danger in Somalia.

Mahad says there were brief periods when he was transferred to Arizona, where deportation battles are taking place, but he was told on each occasion that the logistics were not in place.

On one of these trips, he was among 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 came to his departure, Mahad says he was put into a tight 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 traveling to the Kenyan capital, Nairobi. Mahad says the straitjacket was removed there and he was handcuffed and put 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 affected upon his return.

After a decade, he was finally reunited with his three children. “I wouldn’t trade this moment for anything now,” Mahad says. “I haven’t seen them for 10 years.”

But he still prefers to stay in the United States because he fears for his life after receiving text messages from Al-Shabaab containing death threats.

He takes extra security precautions when he is abroad and lives in a well-protected home but does not want to go into further details or share the contents of the threats for safety reasons.

Upon his return, Mahed was welcomed by many people from his clan, including local politicians, because of his TikTok profile. He realizes that because of his social media presence, he may have access to opportunities not available to other Somalis who have been deported — or are threatened with deportation — from the United States.

Last month, President Donald Trump said he would end temporary protected status, which is supposed to prevent people from being deported when their country of origin is unsafe.

Earlier this month, he stepped up his stance by saying he did not want Somali immigrants in the United States, telling reporters that they should “go back to where they came from” and that “their country is not good for some reason.”

Somalia has not had a central government in full control of the country since the overthrow of President Siad Barre in 1991. The people have had to endure years of chaos and insecurity – and even now, despite having a government in Mogadishu, Islamist militants still control much of the country and occasionally launch attacks in the capital.

Trump’s comments came after being questioned about widespread fraud in Minnesota’s social assistance program.

Dozens of people have been charged in connection with a scheme that federal prosecutors say involved a charity sending fraudulent invoices to the state government for meals for children during the COVID-19 pandemic.

A number of Somali immigrants were involved in this alleged scheme.

In the wake of the president’s comments about the Somalis, videos spread on social media showing immigration agents knocking on doors throughout 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 at about 80,000 people, the posts sparked concern.

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

As people who had received temporary protected status, they feared it was only a matter of time before ICE followed the address and came after them. They grabbed what they could carry and fled into the night, hoping that a change of location would offer them some protection.

And now their lives are on hold. Work shifts are missed. Meals are skipped or extended. One man described how quickly everything fell apart: “We’re running out of food. We haven’t shown up for work for the past five days because we’re afraid Immigration and Customs Enforcement will be waiting for us. I don’t know what’s going to happen to us.”

Mahad is not alone in being deported to Somalia in recent months, although there are no official figures.

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

From rural Somalia, he was desperate to leave because the prolonged drought had destroyed his livelihood. He illegally crossed into the United States via the Mexican border after traveling north from Brazil but was arrested soon after. He spent 18 months in detention before being returned to Somalia.

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

“They brought me back to start from scratch,” he says. “Everything I worked for is gone.”

He says he spent about $20,000 (£15,000) to get to the US, including money he 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. “There’s nothing going on…there’s no work.”

He is now thinking about emigrating again.

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