Before dawn breaks over Mogadishu, Ajabo Abukar steps onto the cold, empty streets with a plastic broom in her hands, aware that every morning carries risks she cannot fully control.
For more than three decades, the 63-year-old mother of seven has been cleaning the roads of Yaqshiid district, where speeding vehicles, scattered waste, and unexploded ordnance have become part of everyday life. Yet she is among dozens of women who continue this work without pay, driven by a sense of duty to keep their community clean.
Wearing a light green jacket and worn gloves, Ajabo sweeps along Towfiq Road, a busy stretch connecting Towfiq and Misanka Dhuhusha junctions in Mogadishu. Her routine rarely changes.
“After I pray the morning prayer, I come to clean the street,” she says. “Sometimes I finish at around three in the morning, and I come back again in the afternoon after the evening prayer.”
She is not alone. Every morning, more than 40 women, most of them elderly, gather quietly along the same road to sweep and collect rubbish before the city fully wakes up.
Among them is 22-year-old Hodan Ahmed, who represents a younger generation continuing the same unpaid responsibility. She has been cleaning Towfiq Road for eight months, following in the footsteps of her mother.
“We take risks sometimes,” Hodan says. “The cars don’t just pass by, they hit our cleaning tools, and that puts our safety at risk.”
But traffic is only part of the danger.
Ajabo recalls several moments over the years when her work brought her face-to-face with life-threatening situations. She has encountered unexploded devices more than five times while cleaning the streets.
“One day, while I was sweeping a road in Jira Garob, I saw two sealed milk cans,” she explains. “I didn’t know what they were, but when I looked closely, I saw a wire attached to them. I called someone, and they told me it was an unexploded bomb. If it had exploded, it could have destroyed the entire area.”
She pauses before adding quietly: “If you are holding something like that and someone tells you to put it down, what choice do you have?”
Despite these dangers, the women continue their work. The recent rehabilitation of Towfiq Road has eased some of the physical risks, but their efforts remain largely unrecognized.
“People who own businesses or live here often pour water or dump garbage on the street,” Hodan says. “When you ask them not to, they respond, ‘You are paid to clean I am not.’”
In reality, none of the women receive a salary.
According to Kaho Abdi, the women’s chairperson in Yaqshiid district, more than 40 women volunteer regularly to clean the streets without any formal support.
“We receive some assistance, like garbage collection trucks,” she says. “But when brooms break or tools are needed, the women buy them themselves.”
Even under difficult and often dangerous conditions, the women remain committed.
“There is no hope of getting a salary,” Ajabo says. “But we stand for the cleanliness of our district.”
As Mogadishu continues to grow and rebuild, these women remain in the background of city life, largely unseen, unpaid, and at risk, yet essential to keeping the streets clean each day
Written by Sadia Nour
