Did you know that Germany used child soldiers during World War I? One such figure is Bayome Mohamed Husen, whose life journey sheds light on the lesser-known aspects of colonial military history.
Born in Dar es Salaam in 1904, Bayome Mohamed Husen was the son of a Sudanese Askari—a Swahili term for a soldier or police officer. As a child, he served alongside his father in the German colonial forces during World War I. In 1917, during the Battle of Mahiwa, he was wounded and captured by British forces. The duration of his imprisonment remains unknown.
After the war, Husen took on various jobs, including working as a servant on cruise ships. In 1929, he traveled to Berlin to claim outstanding military pay for himself and his father, only to face rejection. Sadly, this was a common experience for many Africans who had served Germany in the war. Was racial bias a factor? Undoubtedly.
Despite the setback, Husen chose to remain in Berlin, taking on roles such as an “exotic” waiter—a label forced upon him due to his African heritage—and a low-paid tutor. His Swahili skills were particularly useful in courses for German officials and security personnel.
During the colonial period, Germany sought to maintain control by preventing adversaries from learning their language. Courses in Swahili and other African languages, such as Ewe, were established for this purpose. Later, during the Weimar Republic, the rising Nazi regime had ambitions of reclaiming lost colonies, and language training was seen as a strategic preparation for that goal.
Husen remained involved in the neo-colonialist movement, holding onto the vision of a powerful colonial Germany. However, he refused to accept the lower status imposed on him as a non-white person. He fought persistently to receive the Frontkämpfer Abzeichen, a military honor awarded to frontline soldiers.
In his personal life, Husen married Maria Schwandner and started a family amid the growing rise of Nazism. Unfortunately, his relationships with white women made him a target under the Nazi regime’s Rassenschande (“racial defilement”) laws, which prohibited relationships between Aryans and non-Aryans.
Due to these racial laws, Husen was imprisoned in Sachsenhausen concentration camp. In 1944, he lost his life there, a victim of the same ideologies he had once attempted to navigate.
Decades later, his story resurfaced through biographies and documentaries, reminding us of the forgotten narratives of history. His life, a testament to identity struggles and racial injustice, challenges us to remember the untold stories of our shared past.
Until next time.