Guled Diriye of rap group Malitia MaliMob says U.S. Secret Service agents searched his mother’s home in Kent — a move he believes was because of anti-Trump messages he posted on social media.

For years, Guled Diriye has been making noise in Seattle’s hip-hop scene, catching the eyes of a few national blogs and local fans. But recently the U.S. Secret Service has taken notice, too.

Like many Americans, Diriye hasn’t been shy about voicing his disdain for President Trump on social media. In December, Diriye, a Somali immigrant and U.S. citizen who performs as Chino’o Capo Gaddafi with his Malitia MaliMob group, filmed a music video for which they drew a Hitler mustache on a likeness of Trump and strung it up from a street sign along Rainier Avenue. Over the past few weeks, he has posted several pictures and videos from the shoot with anti-Trump messages on social media, teasing the new song, titled “Dum Dum.” It was the controversial social media promotion that Diriye believes led the Secret Service to his mother’s house Tuesday afternoon.

According to Diriye, two people who identified themselves as special agents came knocking on his mother’s door looking for Diriye, asking to search her Kent home. The two did not have a search warrant, according to Diriye.

The Secret Service is charged with protecting the president.

“I didn’t threaten the president, I didn’t say I was going to kill the president,” Diriye recalled Wednesday, still audibly rattled.

One of the agents left a handwritten note with their name and phone number, according to Diriye, who showed a photograph of the note.

The voicemail of the agent whose name was in the note was reachable through the Secret Service’s Seattle field office. When reached Wednesday on one of the numbers listed in the handwritten note, she initially denied knowledge of a home search in Kent. When asked about Diriye, she said she was only trying to locate somebody and declined to comment further.

A spokesperson for the Secret Service’s Seattle field office did not respond to calls seeking comment Thursday.

Diriye, a married father of four, was not at his mother’s home at the time. But his mother – who runs a daycare out of the house – was there with his sister and his children. Despite his mother’s objections, the agents, Diriye says, repeatedly asked to search the house. According to Diriye, they also inquired about his immigration status, though he says he and his family members are all American citizens.

Diriye’s sister eventually convinced his mother to let them in, saying they had nothing to hide. The agents eventually left, leaving behind the handwritten note with instructions for Diriye to call them, he says.

“My mom is terrified,” says Diriye, 30. “She’s thinking ‘Oh my God, they’re going to close my business.’”

Diriye contends that the agents were overly persistent.

Diriye’s family came to America when he was 7, fleeing Somalia to escape the terrorism that ravaged their native country. They arrived in the U.S. with all of their belongings in a single suitcase and eventually settled in Seattle.

“America is my home,” Diriye says. “I left Somalia, fleeing with my mother stepping over dead bodies, laying next to dead bodies. A lot of traumatizing [expletive], bro. … I appreciate being here. I love being an American. I’m proud of being an American. I would never even burn a flag like some people do, because I know what America is all about.”

After consulting with a lawyer affiliated with the local chapters of the Council on American Islamic Relations and the American Civil Liberties Union, he plans to release an edited version of the video. He describes its message as a “kumbaya” celebrating the idea that America was “built by foreigners” and that people of different backgrounds coming together is what “makes America great.” While Diriye says Trump isn’t mentioned by name in the song, the video’s incendiary imagery is a metaphor for how Diriye “feels as a black man in America.”

“We feel that we’re hung every day – in the streets being shot, being killed,” he says. “I’m depicting that through art. Every day we feel like we’re at gunpoint.”

Malitia MaliMob is a group formed by Diriye and Mohamed Jurato, aka J. Krown, bringing the perspective of Muslim immigrants to gritty struggle rap. Their 2015 album, titled “ISIS,” “stands in direct opposition to the Islamic State’s fascist fundamentalism,” according to a City Arts Magazine story at the time. The album received favorable local reviews, though the controversial title delayed its iTunes release.

 

Having left Somalia to escape terrorism, the self-described “dread-headed American kid from Seattle” takes offense to being investigated as if he were a terrorist, Diriye says.

“We hate terrorism. I can’t even go back to where I was born because every day there’s bombings,” he says. “Bro, we are anti-terrorist to the max. … For them to try to put me in that category, it’s heart-breaking, bro. It’s the worst thing in the world to me. I’m here because of these bastards. … How could you put me in the same category as these scum bags?”

Michael Rietmulder: [email protected]; on Twitter: @mrietmulder. Michael Rietmulder is the Seattle Times music writer.

DEMOCRACY NOW — During President Trump’s first State of the Union address Tuesday night, he repeatedly tried to conflate immigrants, including DREAMers, with terrorists and gang members—the latest in a string of racist or xenophobic statements Trump has made throughout his time in office.

Yet, on Tuesday night, many lawmakers with the Congressional Black Caucus protested against Trump’s racism—and his recent comments calling African nations “shithole countries”—by wearing traditional African kente cloth. For more on the State of the Union, we speak with Minnesota state Representative Ilhan Omar, the highest-elected Somali-American public official in the United States.

AMY GOODMAN: This is Democracy Now!, as we look at President Trump’s first State of the Union, spending the hour on it. On Tuesday night, some Democrats in the chamber booed when President Trump used the term “chain migration” and tried to link terrorist attacks to policies allowing recent immigrants to sponsor relatives.

PRESIDENT DONALD TRUMP: The fourth and final pillar protects the nuclear family by ending chain migration. Under the current broken system, a single immigrant can bring in virtually unlimited numbers of distant relatives. Under our plan, we focus on the immediate family by limiting sponsorships to spouses and minor children.

This vital reform is necessary not just for our economy, but for our security and for the future of America. In recent weeks, two terrorist attacks in New York were made possible by the visa lottery and chain migration. In the age of terrorism, these programs present risks we can just no longer afford. It’s time to reform these outdated immigration rules and finally bring our immigration system into the 21st century.

AMY GOODMAN: That was President Trump at his State of the Union.

Joining us now, Minnesota state Representative Ilhan Omar, former refugee, Muslim, the highest-elected Somali-American public official in the United States. You were in Washington, D.C., from Minnesota, to attend one of the alternative State of the Unions, Ilhan Omar. Can you respond to what President Trump said last night?

REP. ILHAN OMAR: Yeah, thank you, Amy, for having me. I was just sort of listening to that little bizarre bit about our immigration programs being outdated, and the only thing I could think about was his fascist ideas being outdated.

AMY GOODMAN: Talk specifically about these linkages he made, continually, this line he drew between young people coming to the United States over the border and MS-13 killing people.

REP. ILHAN OMAR: I mean, it is really disappointing, and it saddens me, but it doesn’t surprise me, that this person can’t comprehend how dangerous it is to create a link between people who might be committing some atrocious crimes to immigrants that are coming to this country seeking a brighter future for their children, and the countless people from Central America and South America who are coming to this country for opportunities, that my family came here for, and many of the immigrants before us came. It is unbecoming of a president and a leader to be able to make those kind of disturbing and disgusting links.

AMY GOODMAN: You’re a part of a group, as a young Somali-American Muslim legislator, of America’s Cabinet, a nonpartisan project launched by young elected officials. Can you talk about what this is?

REP. ILHAN OMAR: Yeah. We realize that, this past year, we could be in the streets, we could resist some of the horrendous ideas that are coming out of Washington, or we could—or we could get involved as young electeds who have fluency and understanding of what our constituents need. We believe we have bold ideas that are going to lead our country to be able to keep up with fulfilling its promise.

As immigration remains a hot-button issue in American politics, more Somali media outlets have spread across Minnesota in recent years — often to amplify the community’s positive contributions — even as the businesses face steep financial challenges.

In 2017 alone, Somali American, a monthly 10,000-circulation newspaper in Minneapolis; GTN News, a bilingual television channel in St. Cloud; and Somali Link Radio, a weekly show at KFAI Radio, joined an already crowded Somali-language print and broadcast landscape in Minnesota.

In 2015, the Minneapolis-based KALY Somali-American Radio, a low-power FM station, joined the airwaves to provide Somali-Americans with around-the-clock news and music programming. And in 2014, the online news operation Tusmo Times added a 5,000-circulation newspaper that is now distributed in Somali-owned businesses and community centers throughout the Twin Cities metro area.

While the owners of these news sources may have different niches, what motivated them to enter the media business, they say, is the desire to focus attention on community stories that other news outlets often only give a passing glance. “One of the reasons I started this work is to promote the success stories of the African community,” said Haji Yusuf, owner and host of GTN News. “I wanted to show their success stories and the success of their businesses; the success of individuals who are doctors and nurses.”

A tough business
Covering those kinds of stories was also the reason Warsame Guled founded the monthly Somali American last year. But that wasn’t the only one. Guled, who also owns a home care business in Minneapolis, thought of the idea to establish a newspaper when he and other entrepreneurs realized they couldn’t find a platform to promote their businesses. “We were looking for ways to reach the Somali community,” Guled said. “I found out that there were no direct channels to reach Somali people.”

Today, the paper distributes 10,000 free copies of the paper, which — like other ethnic newspapers — are available in coffee shops, restaurants, community centers, libraries and other public spaces that Somali-Americans frequent.

The paper often focuses on Somali-related events in Minneapolis. Stories are written by freelance reporters or volunteers, or reprinted from other news organizations.

Its competitor, Tusmo Times, tends to cover local, national and international Somali-related stories. Originally called Ciyaartoy and established in 2012 to give the Somali community online coverage of sports, the organization eventually changed its name and expanded its coverage to include hard news and created a monthly newspaper printed in both Somali and English.

“My main goal is to document and archive the stories of the Somali-American community in Minnesota,” said Abdirahman Mukhtar, founder of Tusmo Times. “That way, if my kids want to read about their own Minnesota history tomorrow, they can find it in both Somali and English languages.”

Yet whatever the intended goal, most local Somali-owned media outlets — including those that have been around for more than 20 years — struggle to generate revenue. Many rely on volunteers and the people who run them often have other jobs to pay the bills.

“I sometimes put in my own money to print the newspaper,” said Mukhtar. “That’s why I haven’t printed in the last two years.”

As with the mainstream media, Somali media entrepreneurs are trying new models to try to build sustainable businesses. GTN, for example, has partnered with Xidig African TV, a system that lets users watch African television stations via the internet, to air its programs — and to make money.

GTN’s Yusuf noted that the station now reaches more than 800 homes in St. Cloud and its surrounding cities. Customers buy a custom streaming media device for $119 or pay a monthly fee of $20. The equipment gives users access to GTN’s on-air programs and more than 300 other channels through Xidig African TV.

Giving ‘a full picture of who we are’
GTN provides its programs in both Somali and English, and focuses on local, state and national issues that affect the Somali-American community. “I want to give this community an alternative voice so that they can see how we’re making contributions in this part of Minnesota,” Yusuf said.

Mahamed Cali, the head of KALY radio, echoed that sentiment in describing why he established the radio station, which also covers local, state, national and international issues that affect the community. Since its launch in 2015, the station has become a popular source of news for Somalis in the Twin Cities, who listen to the radio through 101.7-FM, online and via an app.

“This radio,” Cali said, “is helping, protecting and empowering the voiceless people in the East African community.”

Abdirizak Bihi, longtime Minneapolis activist and host of the weekly Somali Link Radio, also thinks he can change the negative image people have of immigrants and refugees through storytelling. Although KFAI isn’t Somali-owned, it provides airtime to several East African community members, who host bilingual programs.

Since his hourlong show was launched a year ago, Bihi has invited Somali activists, entrepreneurs, artists and elected officials to talk about issues facing the Somali-Americans and accentuate their contributions to Minnesota.

“I wanted to give them the full picture of who we are,” Bihi said. “That we have doctors; that we have a culture; that we have music; that we have a museum; that we care about success and the American dream, like everybody else.”