Ayanle Mohamed Siad, 61, the son of late Somali dictator Mohamed Siad Barre, has been located living in suburban Columbus, Ohio, where he has built a quiet life while some in the local Somali community call for U.S. Authorities to investigate his family’s role in a regime that killed as many as 200,000 people.
His sister Deka Mohamed Siad, 69, also resides in the Columbus area, the second-largest Somali community in the United States with roughly 70,000 people. The siblings arrived in America shortly after their father was overthrown in 1991, following two decades of oppression that culminated in what historians have termed the “Isaaq Genocide.”
Since resettling, the family has operated several businesses, including a Medicare-funded home health care company called Vanguard Home Health Care that claimed $1.8 million in federal funding, according to documents reviewed by The Post. Deka ran the firm with her husband, former Somali ambassador Abdikarim Ali Omar, until his death in January 2021 at age 70. The company filed proper paperwork and closed after his passing.
Ayanle, who historians and human rights campaigners say served as head of his father’s administration in the dictatorship’s final years, lives in a $350,000 three-bedroom house with his wife and young son. A person at the residence told The Post this week that he was out of the country, and attempts to reach him for comment went unanswered. He has never publicly denounced his father’s regime.
Human rights activist Suleiman Bolaleh, 59, who was awarded for his work documenting atrocities and helping bring victims forward to testify in a U.S. Civil case against former Somalia defense minister Mohamed Ali Samantar, said he was “horrified” to discover the dictator’s family living comfortably in America.
“There is clear evidence of ethnic cleansing, torture, indiscriminate bombing of civilians, war crimes and crimes of humanity,” Bolaleh said.
“[Barre’s] red beret soldiers were going door-to-door in civilian homes, rounding up young men and children as young as 12 and they murdered them in cold blood,” he continued.
“They used tractors to collect the dead bodies and bury them in mass graves which are still there today.”
Ali-Guban Mohamed, 64, another Columbus resident, told The Post he was shocked to encounter Ayanle at a local mosque.
“Siad Barre and his men committed so many war crimes so I was shocked to see his son [Ayanle] in the mosque enjoying his freedom,” Mohamed said.
“My family were rounded up in a small township called Agabur and executed. Their bodies were put into a well and that was happening across the board.”
Mohamed, who sought safety in the U.S. After Barre ordered massacres of civilians in the Isaaq clan in what is now the self-governing Somaliland, said he had sought accountability for decades.
“It was just awful because, to this day, not a single person had been held accountable for the genocide that took place,” he added.
“He was supposed to be the one who took over from his father, like Saddam Hussein’s son.”
Faisah Abdullahi, 41, was a child when her family fled the indiscriminate bombing. Her sick and disabled father died in a refugee camp in Ethiopia during their journey to the U.S.
“I remember it being a scary time to live there. Soldiers would go around house to house, ransacking the property and stealing any valuables they could find like cash and gold,” she said.
“Suddenly one night the fighting started and all we could hear was the sound of gunfire. Then the ground started to shake and bombs were dropped everywhere. It was chaos.”
Abdullahi, who arrived in Ohio in the 1990s, said she felt “sick” when she came face to face with one of Siad Barre’s daughters while dropping off her child at a local community center.
“I am older, wiser and do not know what Siad Barre’s children did, but I do not think every human being is bad,” she said.
“But I find it very shameful to live in the same state as anyone who can celebrate an evil person who tried to wipe out my lineage.”
Historian and Oxford University doctoral researcher Mohamed Haji Ingiriis described Ayanle as his “father’s right-hand man” during the bloody regime’s final period.
“When his father had an accident [and was temporarily unable to rule], Ayanle became de facto ruler in the Villa Somalia, running day-to-day regime activities solely with an iron-fist,” Ingiriis told The Post.
“He was so powerful that he was able to appoint and dismiss regime authorities on behalf of his father.”
Ingiriis also claimed Barre’s children “massively benefited from the embezzled properties he acquired illegally during his regime.”
“Siad Barre’s children were not regular children. They were part of a system that killed a lot of people,” he added.
“The US should appoint a fact-finding commission of inquiry to investigate the barbaric and brutal atrocities committed during the military regime and hold accountable those who had done those crimes.”
The Barre family’s position within the Columbus Somali diaspora remains complicated. A significant portion of the local community hails from the same region of Somalia as the Barre family and maintains loyalty to the clan-based network. The Somali Museum of Ohio has even referred to the dictator as its “honorable grandfather.”
Ayanle’s own business activities have included Somal Global Services, a translation company, and links to Halwa Kismay Coffee, a cafe selling traditional Somali sweets. In 2004 he launched a non-profit called Somali Immigrants Achieving Democracy, and photos posted online show him traveling to London, Oman and the UAE.
Barre had seized power in a Soviet-backed coup in 1969 and ruled for 21 years as military dictator, controlling where citizens could live, travel and work. His campaign against the Isaaq clan saw entire cities flattened by aerial bombardment, wells poisoned and more than a million landmines laid on grazing lands. When his government collapsed in 1991, he and his cronies fled Somalia, looting an estimated $27 million in gold and cash from the central bank. Barre died of a heart attack in Lagos, Nigeria in 1995, never facing trial for the atrocities committed under his rule.
Bolaleh, who moved to California over fears of being targeted by Barre supporters in Somalia, said his experience as a university student when the civil war erupted was “like living through hell.”
“I did not expect to survive,” he said.
“I am calling for an investigation to be opened against his family to find out exactly what they were doing during the civil war, what they know and to give up any proceeds they may have inherited from this criminal genocidal dictator.”
Deka did not respond to requests for comment from The Post.