The debate over immigration policy intensified after President Donald Trump revealed his intention to terminate Temporary Protected Status for Somali nationals living in Minnesota. The announcement coincided with renewed attention on federal fraud cases involving individuals within Minnesota’s Somali community—attention heightened further because some of those individuals had past, public interactions with Rep. Ilhan Omar, D-Minn. Although Omar herself has not been implicated in any criminal activity, her appearance at events hosted by Safari Restaurant and the restaurant’s later involvement in a major prosecution prompted critics and supporters alike to revisit the timeline. The Justice Department’s January disclosure detailed convictions against two men—one a co-owner of Safari Restaurant, the other a former senior policy aide to the Minneapolis mayor—accused of exploiting pandemic-era emergency nutrition programs. Their case formed part of a sweeping federal investigation into misconduct across multiple organizations entrusted with delivering meals to children during school closures. The broader political climate, already strained by disagreements over refugee programs and safety-net policies, made the announcement particularly charged, and Trump’s remarks about the Somali community drew sharp reactions from Omar and other lawmakers.
The federal case centered on a substantial manipulation of programs that had been modified during the COVID-19 emergency to reduce bureaucratic barriers and ensure that children who depended on school meals would continue to receive food even while campuses were closed. According to the Department of Justice, the defendants took advantage of these loosened regulations, presenting fraudulent claims for reimbursements tied to nonexistent meal services. The DOJ’s press release described the scheme as multilayered, involving false invoices, fabricated meal counts, and networks of cooperating entities designed to conceal the origin and movement of funds. In its public filings, the Justice Department emphasized that while Rep. Omar had interacted with Safari Restaurant in the course of standard campaigning—something common for politicians meeting constituents—she was not a subject of the investigation. The department’s description of the criminal operation revealed how Abdulkadir Nur Salah, co-owner of Safari Restaurant, oversaw a site that ultimately received more than $16 million in fraudulent child-nutrition reimbursements. His co-defendant, Abdi Nur Salah, created and operated Stigma-Free International, a nonprofit agencies used to distribute and mask the fraudulent activity across several Minnesota cities, including Willmar, Mankato, St. Cloud, Waite Park, and St. Paul. That same defendant, prosecutors noted, also served as a senior policy aide to the Minneapolis mayor, a detail that added further public interest in the case.
Safari Restaurant had served as a campaign stop for Omar during her last congressional race, a routine gesture for a candidate meeting local community members. The restaurant also made lawful financial contributions to her campaign totaling roughly $4,700 between 2021 and 2022—donations that drew renewed scrutiny only after the restaurant’s co-owner faced federal charges. Prior to the fraud allegations, Omar had praised Safari Restaurant for what she believed was legitimate participation in providing meals to children at a time when food security was a major concern for families affected by the pandemic. A video she posted to X showed her commending the staff and noting that many school-aged children relied on public meal programs as their primary food source. She referenced her support for the Meals Act, a measure intended to help students access meals outside traditional school settings during health emergencies. Her remarks, made well before the federal fraud probe came to light, framed the restaurant’s work as an example of community-based support during a national crisis. When the investigation later revealed the depth of the alleged misconduct at several organizations statewide, Omar’s earlier appearance became a point of political debate, even as federal authorities reiterated she had no involvement in the criminal scheme.
The DOJ investigation—widely described as one of the largest pandemic-era fraud cases in the nation—ultimately alleged that participating organizations claimed reimbursements for meals they never served, sometimes using “ghost” sites and fabricated rosters to inflate their totals. According to federal filings, the network of individuals and entities involved in the broader statewide fraud siphoned off as much as $250 million in federal child-nutrition funds. The scope of the misconduct and the involvement of numerous defendants, some of whom were Somali immigrants or first-generation Somali Americans, drew extensive national attention. Media outlets, including the Daily Mail, reported on the alleged use of shell nonprofits, falsified paperwork, and internal networks of collaborators who moved funds through various accounts. Despite public speculation, neither prosecutors nor investigators connected any wrongdoing to Rep. Omar, and they made no suggestions that she had knowledge of the fraudulent activities. Nonetheless, because Omar is one of the nation’s most prominent Somali-American lawmakers and because she had campaigned at one of the implicated locations, the political fallout quickly expanded beyond the judicial facts of the case.
The controversy escalated when President Trump used the fraud prosecutions as rhetorical ammunition in broader criticism of Somali immigrants nationwide. During a Cabinet meeting, he launched into a tirade asserting that the Somali community was detrimental to the United States, using harsh language that alarmed civil-rights advocates and immigrant-support organizations. He declared that the United States would be “better off” without Somali immigrants and disparaged Somalia itself as a country. These remarks came just days after the news of the fraud convictions resurfaced, leading political observers to speculate that Trump was attempting to draw a direct line between the crimes of a small number of individuals and the broader Somali diaspora in Minnesota. The inflammatory language further intensified tensions around his proposal to terminate TPS protections for Somali nationals, a policy change with significant consequences for long-settled families who have lived legally in the United States for decades. Trump’s comments were perceived by many as an attempt to portray Somali immigrants as unworthy of legal protection or public trust, feeding into an already volatile political environment.
Rep. Omar responded forcefully, calling Trump “creepy” and “obsessed” in a statement issued after his remarks circulated widely. She argued that the president’s words were part of a longstanding pattern of hostility toward immigrants and particularly toward communities of color. Omar, who has frequently been a target of Trump’s public criticisms, framed his comments as an attempt to demonize an entire ethnic community in response to criminal charges involving specific individuals. She emphasized that the fraud prosecutions underscored the importance of oversight and accountability, not the need to vilify entire immigrant populations. In subsequent statements, she pointed out that the Justice Department regularly prosecutes financial misconduct across all demographic groups and that linking the crimes of a few people to millions of Somali Americans was an act of political opportunism rather than a reasoned policy argument. Trump, however, doubled down on his framing, asserting again that immigrants who “come from hell and complain” should be sent back to their countries of origin—a remark widely condemned as echoing past statements he had made telling elected officials of color to “go back” to other countries despite their American citizenship.
As the political confrontation deepened, the intersection of immigration policy, pandemic-era fraud prosecutions, and campaign-trail associations continued to draw public attention. Critics of Omar attempted to use her past appearance at Safari Restaurant to insinuate impropriety, despite the lack of any evidence linking her to illegal behavior. Supporters countered that meeting with constituents, attending community events, and accepting legal campaign contributions are standard parts of congressional outreach. Meanwhile, the fraud cases themselves served as a stark example of how emergency expansions of social programs—intended to prevent children from going hungry during a global crisis—can be vulnerable to exploitation when oversight systems are strained. For Minnesota’s Somali community, already navigating the pressure of national scrutiny, the moment became a painful display of how the actions of a few individuals could be amplified into sweeping generalizations by political leaders. The debate surrounding TPS, the portrayal of immigrants in national discourse, and the lasting political implications of the DOJ’s findings underscored broader questions about governance, accountability, and how communities are represented—or misrepresented—during times of national stress. Through it all, federal authorities maintained a clear delineation between those charged with crimes and unrelated public figures, noting repeatedly that Rep. Ilhan Omar was neither accused of nor connected to the fraud scheme beyond routine public interaction with one of the implicated establishments.
