Never Too Late: The Unlikely Scholar of Garissa.

In Garissa’s bustling Iftin neighbourhood, a man once known for tending herds now commands applause for a far different pursuit. At 58, Adan Muhumed Omar, popularly known as Adan Gaab, the former herder-turned-scholar, has graduated from Garissa University with a Certificate in Peace, Security and Conflict Management: the culmination of a 13-year odyssey that began when he first entered a classroom at 45.

Today, as he clutches his graduation certificate, Adan’s smile carries the quiet satisfaction of a dream deferred but never abandoned.

“At first, many thought I was on an impossible mission, laughable even,” he recalls with a soft chuckle.

“But see me now,” he adds.

Adan’s story begins far from lecture halls. Born in the drylands of Garissa County, he spent his early years tending goats, cows, and camels across arid plains, as generations of Somali boys before him had done. School, to families like his, was a luxury; survival took precedence.

“My parents needed every hand on the livestock. Books were for others,” he says.

The years passed quickly. Adan matured, married, and settled in Garissa town’s Iftin area, where he turned to small business to provide for his family and extended dependants, as is customary in Somali households where responsibility runs deep. Yet amid the rhythm of work and obligation, a quiet yearning persisted: the desire to read, write, and understand the world beyond numbers and trade.

That spark was fanned into flame by a national movement. In 2003, the Kenyan government’s introduction of free primary education reopened the gates of learning to millions who had once been locked out. The policy famously inspired Kimani Maruge, the Mau Mau veteran who enrolled in school at 84 and earned a Guinness World Record as the oldest pupil in the world. His story, immortalised in film and even honoured by Google with a Doodle, became a rallying cry for lifelong learning.

For Adan, it was the nudge he needed. In 2012, at 45, he made a decision that raised eyebrows across Garissa: he enrolled in Young Muslim Primary School. A man his age, sitting among pupils young enough to be his grandchildren, quickly became the talk of the town.

“Teachers were surprised; some thought I was joking, but I was serious. I wanted to prove that it’s never too late to learn,” he remarks.

Balancing schoolwork with family obligations was no small feat. Adan juggled lessons, home responsibilities, and personal commitments with remarkable discipline. Each day required careful planning, ensuring the household ran smoothly while carving out time to study, complete assignments, and attend classes.

“It wasn’t easy, but once I made the decision, there was no turning back,” he admits.

He pressed on, completing his primary education and later joining Young Muslim Boys High School. His diligence soon turned scepticism into admiration. By the time he earned his secondary school certificate, Adan had become a local inspiration. With the late Maruge gone, he was briefly regarded as Kenya’s oldest active school pupil — a living symbol of persistence and possibility.

Still, Adan’s ambitions stretched further. Determined to turn his education into impact, he joined Garissa University to pursue a Certificate in Peace, Security and Conflict Management, a field close to his heart.

“Education opened my eyes to what our people lack, many pastoralists, especially in rural areas, remain illiterate because of the same hardships I faced. I want to change that,” he says.

Now a university graduate, Adan envisions a future dedicated to community empowerment. He hopes his story inspires others who missed out on education in their youth.

“We can’t leave education to children alone,” he insists. “Even one who starts late can still finish.”

His story resonates deeply in northern Kenya, a region where education often competes with the demands of tradition and livelihood. Local leaders, educators, and youth advocates have hailed Adan’s perseverance as a wake-up call for communities to prioritise learning across generations.

“He’s a walking lesson,” said a teacher from his former school. “He showed our children that excuses don’t build futures — effort does.”

At Garissa University’s convocation hall, when Adan’s name was read out, the applause lingered longer than most. It wasn’t merely for academic achievement but for the audacity of belief. Adan, whose nickname means ‘short’ in Somali, stood tall in his graduation gown, a symbol of triumph over time and circumstance.

Yet for Adan, graduation isn’t the end. His eyes now turn toward an even higher goal: a PhD.

“I started late, but I am running full speed,” he says, his voice steady with conviction. “Education gave me a second life. I will keep going as far as Allah allows.”

In a county where many still measure success by herds and trade, Adan Gab represents a new kind of wealth — the richness of knowledge, courage, and endurance. His journey is a reminder that dreams don’t expire with age; they only wait for courage to rekindle them.

As he graduates, Adan’s message to northern Kenya — and the nation at large: is simple but profound:

“It’s never too late to begin. The best time to learn was yesterday; the next best time is today.”