“I promise I will be refereeing for you at the next World Cup,” Omar Abdulkadir Artan told the crowd that met him at Mogadiscio’s Aden Adde International Airport, wrapping himself in Somalia’s flag and accepting bouquets from government officials and the Somali Football Federation. The 34‑year‑old returned home this week after U.S. authorities denied him entry, ending his chance to officiate at the 2026 Mundial.
Artan, who was named the Confederation of African Football’s referee of the year in 2025 and would have been the first Somali to take the pitch at a World Cup match, said he had been held in immigration interviews for 11 hours at Miami International Airport before being turned back on Saturday. He was sent first to Turkey and then flew to Mogadiscio, where ministers, federation representatives and an enthusiastic public greeted him with chants, flowers and the national flag.
The practical stakes were clear: FIFA had put Artan on its official list for the 2026 FIFA World Cup but after the U.S. denial the governing body removed him from that list. His absence also affects the tournament’s centralized preparations — Pierluigi Collina set up a Miami training centre where all 52 referees and 88 assistant referees must stay during the tournament — meaning referees need access to the United States not just for matches but for mandated training and security arrangements ahead of the Mundial.
Artan said FIFA supported him and remained in contact through his return to Mogadiscio. FIFA, for its part, issued a statement confirming that he “would not be able to train or referee” at the 2026 World Cup after the U.S. denial and stressed that it is not tied to the host country’s immigration processes; the host government ultimately determines who receives a visa and who is admitted. That split—personal backup from FIFA and a blunt institutional limit on action—frames the contradiction at the center of Artan’s case.
At the airport, Artan thanked officials, ministers and parliamentarians for their support and spoke directly to young Somalis not to lose heart. He told the crowd that flag and passport are things to defend and urged the youth to continue their paths despite setbacks. “All of us belong to Somalia in good and bad,” he said, and again vowed to remain part of the game at the highest level.
The timing sharpens the question. With the tournament’s referees scheduled to train in Florida and the United States responsible for admission decisions, the denial blocked more than a single trip; it removed a referee from the roster and forced FIFA to adjust the official list for a World Cup that opens next year. Somalia is also on a U.S. travel ban list introduced under President Donald Trump’s administration, a background detail that FIFA and tournament organizers cannot ignore as they manage logistics for the Mundial 2026, which will feature opening ceremonies across three North American cities.
Artan left Mogadiscio promising to continue his career and to be back at a World Cup, but the most consequential question he and his supporters now face is sharply practical: how does a Somali referee reach a Mundial when the host government controls visas and his country remains subject to U.S. travel restrictions? FIFA can note its support and explain its limits; it cannot, the organization says, reverse a host‑nation immigration decision. Whether any procedural path will be found to make Artan’s next vow real is the unanswered issue that hangs over his return and over the integrity of a global tournament that must reconcile sporting selection with national border control.
