While these concerns are legitimate, as a Christian and a cross-cultural missionary, I view the Somali situation through a different lens. Beyond the headlines and the courtroom narratives, I see the emergence of a very different Somali counterculture—one that is not defined by fraud or political controversy, but by quiet faithfulness and costly allegiance to Christ.
First, we must understand Somali culture. Somalis are, first and foremost, Muslim—specifically, Sunni Muslim. In Somali society, religious and cultural identity are inseparable. To be Somali is, in their understanding, to be Muslim.
Within this honor–shame framework, faith is not merely a personal conviction but a communal allegiance. When an individual leaves Islam, the shame is not borne by that person alone; the family, the clan, and the wider community experience it. Such a decision is viewed as a public betrayal that brings dishonor upon one’s kin. As a result, intense social pressure—including ostracism, coercion, and at times violence—is often applied to restore honor and protect communal identity.
When a Somali embraces faith in Christ, the issue is therefore not merely theological but social and political. Such a decision is perceived as a rejection of clan authority and a threat to communal honor. Families and clans may respond with intense pressure, or violence—not only to punish the individual but to restore honor and safeguard the group’s identity. For this reason, many Somali believers practice their faith in secrecy, forming a quiet yet resilient counterculture marked by courage, suffering, and deep devotion to Christ.
Though this remains the prevailing view among Somalis, a quiet yet growing countercultural movement is emerging among these East African people—Somali Christians. Their numbers are small, yet steadily increasing. Many of these followers of Isa (Jesus) live as secret believers, aware that an open confession of Christ often invites persecution, social exclusion, and even violence.
One young woman (pictured) told me that when she came to faith, her parents beat her and burned the Bible she had hidden in her room. Another believer shared that if his family were to discover that he was following Isa, they would likely kill him. For these brothers and sisters, the spiritual battle is not theoretical; it is real, costly, and dangerously immediate.
Culture—every culture—is what my friend Sherwood Lingenfelter calls a “prison of disobedience,” and Somali culture is neither better nor worse than American culture; both cultures are tainted by the result of the fall and resist the lordship of Christ. As Paul reminds us, “our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, authorities, and cosmic powers of this present darkness…against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms” (Eph. 6:12–13).
Seen this way, the Somali story is not about them versus us, but about the gospel confronting and redeeming every culture—including our own—and forming a new people whose ultimate allegiance is not to clan, nation, or tradition, but to the kingdom of God.
At the same time, we are not naïve about the realities of radical Islam, such as the Muslim Brotherhood or the CAIR. In many regions, strong religious and ideological forces actively oppose anything associated with Christianity or the West. The danger is real.
Yet so is the advance of the gospel real. Even in the most resistant contexts, Christ is quietly at work, drawing men and women to Himself and forming communities of faith marked by courage, perseverance, and hope. We ask you to pray for our Somali brothers and sisters—that they would be protected, strengthened, and reminded that the global body of Christ does not forget them.
The balance for Christians has always been the same throughout the ages: to hate the sin while loving the sinner (Rom. 12:9; Matt. 5:44). Even as we stand firm against ideologies and actions that oppose Christ and His saving work, we do not respond with hatred or fear. Instead, we pray and bear faithful witness, remembering that Jesus Himself came “full of grace and truth” (John 1:14). We testify—through both word and life—that Jesus is indeed a prophet (Deut. 18:15; Acts 3:22), and more than a prophet: He is Yasū‘ al-Masīḥ, the Son of God, crucified and risen, for “there is salvation in no one else” (Acts 4:12; cf. Col. 1:15–20).
