The road to Merca was not short.
Caravans set out before dawn, moving slowly across the sandy plains, stopping at wells, then continuing on.
The sun was harsher in the south,
and the wind carried dust that made eyes water,
but all of this had been part of Somali life for centuries.
Caravans, camels, and traders
In 1882, Merca was one of the most important ports in southern Somalia.
A city that brought together Arabs, Somalis, Indians, and traders crossing the ocean.
When the caravan carrying Abbas Udini arrived, the sea appeared first… a vast blue expanse unlike anything he had known inland.
Then came the smell of salt, the scent of damp wood,
as if the sea had a different memory than the desert.
The port was bustling:
Men loading dates and hides,
others unloading sacks of coffee,
and the sound of hammers striking the wood on the ships. Everything was normal…
Until Abbas saw something unfamiliar:
Ships flying the British flag.
They weren't just merchant ships.
They carried men in military uniforms,
measuring instruments,
and metal crates being carefully moved to warehouses.
Abbas stood for a long time, watching.
He didn't speak.
But he knew:
The foreign presence was no longer a "business visit,"
It was permanent.
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The Merchants' Council
Abbas entered the large market in Merca.
The market was a melting pot of languages:
Arabic, Somali, Swahili, and sometimes Hindi.
He sat in the merchants' council.
An elderly man from the city said in a quiet voice:
"The British have started asking for agreements with some of the sheikhs on the coast.
They say it's for trade protection… but protection doesn't come without a price." Another man replied, "The power is with them, the sea is with them, and the weapons are with them. If we refuse… they will come by force."
Abbas didn't rush to speak.
He asked a simple question: "Do they want something from the interior? Or just from the ports?"
The men fell silent.
Then a merchant of Arab origin answered, "The sea is only the beginning. Whoever controls the coast… controls the way inland."
The words were clear.
Simple.
But their meaning was profound.
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Meeting the Reformist Sheikh
At that time, there was a sheikh in Merka known for his knowledge and intelligence.
His name was Haj Muhammad bin Uthman.
People would go to him with matters both big and small.
Abbas went to him after the Maghrib prayer.
The sheikh's council was open.
People sat on mats,
coffee passed from hand to hand,
and the conversation was quiet, without shouting.
The sheikh said,
"My son, the country is changing. The Europeans don't come just to trade. Every port becomes the beginning of a takeover… if no one stands up to them."
Abbas asked him calmly,
"And what do we do? We are merchants, not a state or an army."
The sheikh smiled.
"A state begins with an idea.
Then with a man who understands.
Then with men who listen."
These were profound words,
piercing Abbas's mind like a straight arrow.
He wasn't seeking heroism,
but the truth was clear:
If people don't act now…
a day will come when they can never act at all. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The First Time He Sees the Enemy Clearly
On the third day of his stay in Marka,
Abbas saw a group of British soldiers walking along the harbor.
They were wearing heavy coats despite the southern heat,
carrying books and papers,
measuring the ground as if preparing to build something.
No one approached them.
No one knew their location.
No one objected.
Abbas stood behind the convoy,
listening,
observing,
and gathering information.
He overheard one of the Indian translators say:
"The British want to build a naval center here.
They say it's to protect the ships,
but it's really a base for them."
This was the first time he had heard the word "base"
in a land that knew no bases. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
1882 – A Secret Nighttime Meeting
One night, a group of merchants, dignitaries, and respected figures gathered in a closed council.
This was unusual, as such meetings were typically public.
Among those present were:
- A prominent merchant from Benadir,
- A sheikh from the interior,
- Men from nearby tribes.
They discussed the possibility that the British might demand control of the port,
- The reluctance of some sheikhs to resist,
- The people's fear of a war for which they had no weapons.
Then, for the first time, Abbas spoke clearly:
"The stranger doesn't ask; he begins by inviting, then by negotiating, then by force.
If we allow him to establish a foothold in the port today,
tomorrow he will enter the villages.
Then the cities.
Then the government."
The council remained silent, but all eyes turned to him.
A young man spoke like an old sheikh.
"And what do you want us to do?"
Abbas replied, "We need unity. The merchant with the sheikh, the sheikh with the shepherds, and the shepherds with the tribe. If each stands alone… we will fall. But if we stand as one… no stranger will be able to enter."
This was not a military plan,
nor a war cry.
It was an idea.
And history always begins with an idea. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The Last Day in Merca
Many scenes were etched in his mind:
– The large ships
– The soldiers measuring the land
– The merchants fearing tomorrow
– And the people praying that the country's gates would not open to the stranger.
On the morning of his departure, Abbas stood on the edge of the harbor.
He gazed at the sea for a long time.
Then he said to himself,
"Perhaps no one will expel the stranger unless a man... then a man... then a people stand up."
Then he returned with a caravan heading inland.
Not just as a merchant,
but as a man who had begun to think differently.
Little did he know that his name would later be associated with a single phrase:
"The Madman of Conquest."
Not because he loved war,
but because he refused to accept that Somalia should become a land without people.