On a rainy June night, the event center at the Ramada Inn in Lewiston was humming with activity.
More than 100 people — women wearing bright dresses and pastel headscarves, men in suits and ties — mingled around a couple dozen tables adorned with the miniature flags of two countries: the American stars and stripes, and the Djiboutian blue, green, and white with a single red star.
Fatumah Isman Dubet, an elder in the Djiboutian community, offered brief remarks on the importance of commemorating the independence struggle.
"As you all know," she said in Somali, speaking through an interpreter, "today we are celebrating the fruits of those efforts, we should not forget, never."
Djibouti is a small east African country, only slightly larger than New Jersey, that sits at the mouth of the Red Sea, between Somalia, Ethiopia, and Eritrea. It’s home to about a million people.
Eve Ali, the emcee and one of the lead organizers of tonight’s event, estimates there are somewhere between 200 and 300 Djiboutians in Maine, mostly in the Lewiston-Auburn area.
Speaking outside the event hall as music thumped in the background, Ali said the community has grown in recent years, primarily through word-of-mouth.
"People will tell you about oh, this is a great place for family raising is a calm place to raise your kid children. It doesn't have a high rate of crimes and you know, in we want that we want safety."
Ali herself is raising kids in Lewiston, where she works as a realtor and as a coordinator for a project aimed at increasing economic opportunity for communities of color.
The majority of Djibouti’s population is ethnically Somali, but the country is home to several other ethnic groups as well. Ali, who was raised in a mixed household with a Somali father and an Arab mother, said she feels equally attached to both cultures – a sentiment she wants to promote tonight.
"And that's the beauty of it. But I love them both the same. And I love my country. I love my people. And here tonight, I want us laughing together," she said.
Djibouti gained independence from France in 1977 through a referendum, after a years long, often bloody struggle to unseat the colonial power structure. It was one of the last countries in Africa to become independent.
"For me, it's a day of happiness," said Hassan Bouh, who lives in Lewiston and works for a trucking company. He also helped organize today’s event.
Because independence came so late, Bouh said many community members have firsthand memory of that time.
Honoring that generation, he said, is a big part of today's celebration.
"It's a moment to kind of pay my respect," Bouh said. "And be able to be with the ones that actually struggled for the country and saying, 'Hey, we recognize it with you. And we want to acknowledge what you went through.'"
One of those people who lived through colonial times and independence is Ibrahim Djama.
Under French rule, Djama said he remembers family members being arrested and tortured, friends disappearing, and others fleeing the country.
Speaking in Somali as Eve Ali interpreted, Djama said he was also barred from pursuing his education beyond elementary school.
"They didn't want [us] to be educated because if the Black man is educated it's a threat to them," Djama said.
Though he welcomed independence, Djama said he’s become disillusioned with the country’s post-colonial trajectory. In his view, there hasn’t been enough tangible change in the political structures.
Still, Djama said it’s a blessing to celebrate the country’s independence on this occasion, especially alongside the younger generation.
"[We] want to teach our kids that [...] the French people has been colonizers, they have occupied us without legitimacy. And we also want to teach them to not forget the history," he said.
"It's pretty surreal, because, for me, personally, I grew up learning about the Independence Day of the United States," said 17-year-old Aidid Aidid, who's part of that younger generation. Aidid’s family moved to the US about ten years ago, and he’s now a rising senior at Lewiston High School.
While becoming familiar with the historical figures of the American Revolution, Aidid said it’s powerful to meet people in his own community who played a role in a much more recent struggle for independence.
"But now we're seeing like role players in the freedom of Djibouti, my home country, so it's pretty shocking," he said.
As the official program wrapped up, everyone tucked into dinner, piling plates high with meat filled sambusas, spongy injera flatbreads, and other traditional dishes.
For Ibrahim Djama, who lived through the transition to independence, whatever disillusionment he feels at the current state of politics in Djibouti seemingly did not stop him from leaning into the spirit of celebration.
After dinner, he made his way to the dance floor, where a group of younger men formed a loose circle around him, cheering and clapping.
Dressed in a blue suit jacket and grey slacks, Djama stepped back and forth with the beat, waving a miniature Djiboutian flag with one hand.
