Mariam Mohamed - Sambusa Side Hustle

A Somali proverb:   One shares food, not words.

Minnesota is home to many Somali immigrants who are new to the English language, so sharing words with neighbors in their adopted home is not so easy.  Food?  That is an appetizing cultural and community connector and a form of communication Mariam Mohamed knows by heart.

Mariam’s love language:  Sambusa. 

In her day job, Mariam is a program consultant for a large health care provider focused on population health within Somali communities. Because of her work, Mariam – a Somali immigrant herself – understands that language and cultural barriers can deny Somali women good health and limit them finding a community purpose or fully (and joyfully) participating in Minnesota’s economic system.  Problem-solving Mariam – an academic proficient in agricultural practices, statistics and nutrition - has long sought to narrow the divide that accompanies diaspora. 

Enter:  Mariam’s Sambusa Side Hustle.

“I come from a Somali community of entrepreneurs,” says Mariam, “Somalis want to build and make money.”  In Somalia, and mostly replicated here, Somali business owners are primarily men.  For that, “Women pay the price,” Mariam says of her Somali sisters in Minnesota, cognizant of their status as “Other.”  “Wearing Hijabs?” Mariam asserts, “They cannot find jobs. Single mothers? They don’t have secure jobs, don’t know where they will work next month.” 

Somali mothers and families in a refugee camp in Somalia. Photo: BBC

One thing Somali women DO know:  Making sambusa. 

Girls in Somalia learn to make sambusa from their mothers, and every woman has her own recipe. “Whenever we invite people for a special occasion, especially in the south of Somalia, sambusa is very prominent,” declares Mariam. “You look forward to go to that party because there will be sambusa!” 

To further aid the Somali community, Mariam and partners Matt Glover and Luke Snyder started Hoyo, a wholesale frozen sambusa food company, to tap into a fresh market in Minnesota and to give Somali women in the Twin Cities jobs and financial opportunity. “Hoyo” means mother in Somali.  Interestingly, Hoyo’s target audience is NOT Somali mothers (who likely make their own sambusa by hand at home), but rather Minnesotans unfamiliar with Somali foods and culture.  “This is an introduction to mainstream Minnesota,” Mariam offers.  “The product is transforming how Minnesotans think of Somalia.  They love Sambusa – we make it like Scandinavian food:  Not hot!” 

The outside of the triangular sambusa is crispy: a thin but sturdy deep-fried dough.  Inside is ground beef, ground lamb, or lentils with onions, garlic, cumin, coriander, turmeric, and red chili peppers. Hoyo also produces colorful and spicy (or mild) sauces as dips for sambusa. Sambusa is similar to an Indian samosa, yet different.  “I love it!’ says one high school-aged taster who has blonde hair and blue eyes and has never had sambusa before.  “I might eat it for breakfast,” he says. “Or about 6 of them when I get home from baseball practice.” 

Hoyo is yet a small business but Hoyo is growing.  The name “Hoyo” holds double meaning for Mariam since Somali women are not only skilled in making the time-consuming sambusa, but they carry Somali culture and history with them, especially during displacement.  Somali mothers have literally carried children, possessions, recipes and their families to Minnesota to escape the decades’ long civil war in Somalia. “How do we support the strength of Somali women?” Mariam asks.  “Instead of looking at them like they are helpless, [Hoyo creates] something that will help these ladies have jobs.  They have seen death, revolution, the worst.  They are survivors.  They don’t know the language.  They are loving, they have kids.  We can support them.”

Wabun Park, Minneapolis. Photo: The Atlantic

Minnesota is home to about 80,000 Somalis, according to St. Paul’s Wilder Foundation, more than any place outside of Somalia.  The East African nation has been in turmoil for decades, yet many Americans know only superficially of Somalia’s complicated and ongoing political unrest, armed conflict, periodic famines, and humanitarian crises afflicting its citizens. Despite the vast differences in climate and culture, Dr. Ahmed Samatar, of the Kofi Annan Institute for Global Citizenship at Macalester College, says Minnesota has been a good home for Somali refugees.  Somali people have been welcomed by churches, mosques and temples, and by established Somali communities here who invite relatives to join them in Minnesota.  Dr. Samatar calls that the “call of kinship.”  Mariam and her late husband, Ali Galaydh, long worked to ease the trauma of Somali resettlement.  Soon after establishing their life in Minnesota, “My husband says to me, ‘We cannot have this beautiful life while our whole country is failing,’” Mariam says.  Husband and wife committed to helping Somali people in the Twin Cities as much as they could, especially across business.   

To fund Hoyo in its start-up phase, Mariam, Matt and Luke applied for and won seed money through a church “Shark Tank” competition at Wayzata’s Community Church.  A prize of $43,000 allowed the trio to lease a commercial kitchen space in Bloomington, earn USDA approval for their production process, and a provide an hourly wage of $15 per hour for the Somali women.  The exposure also earned Hoyo commercial food advising from Cargill and General Mills, giants in the food business in Minnesota. 

Mariam and partner, Matt Glover, displaying their Hoyo sambusa and sauces. Photo: Twin Cities Business

Wayzata Community Church calls their cash-prize community initiative “Dough… for Folks and Concepts to Rise,” perfect for the emerging concept commercializing the fried dough specialty called sambusa and the women who make them.  Hoyo was also a semi-finalist in the 2019 MN Cup (a start-up competition hosted by the University of Minnesota and local companies).  In 2020, Hoyo won a cash grant and one year of marketing and branding guidance from JT Mega, a food industry marketing company in Minneapolis.  Mariam hopes the infusion of cash and industry expertise will help Hoyo secure a dedicated and larger commercial kitchen space so she can hire more women (Somali and others) and make more sambusa.  She knows the women she hires will go on to other jobs in the food industry, and take skills and confidence learned (language, leadership) to build careers and better lives for their families and themselves.  Currently, Hoyo – a registered Public Benefit Corporation - employs 6-8 women, part time, and has access to the kitchen space only 2 days a week. Right now, Mariam says, “The women are having fun!”  They tell her that when they visit local grocery stores, “I saw the sambusa!  People were buying them!  I made this!”

Hoyo’s sambusa recipe comes from Mariam’s sister, Halima, who is a mother of 6.  Operations at Hoyo explicitly support working mothers: “They can bring their children to work,” Mariam says, “we make sure they have child care. We pick them up at home, we provide transportation. We understand if they cannot come. They are mothers.”  By making sambusa with other women and their children nearby, the Somali tradition of kinship, family and celebration through food is passed on: “Somalis need to know their heritage,” Mariam offers, “even if they are born here.  We need our kids to know where they come from.  Our history is in our food; it is in sambusa.” 

When she visits, Miriam seems fully at ease among the 6 women cooking in the bustling kitchen.  The women laugh and talk, and their skilled hands fly as they fold the thin dough, filling the sambusa, and sealing them tight for frying.  Mariam grew up as one of 6 girls in her family in Somalia, and she raised 4 children in the US.  Mariam is now raising Hoyo: a small business and a bridge between Somali women, their beloved sambusa, and Minnesotans.  “We have many Somali restaurants in Minnesota,” Mariam observes, “but they are built to serve Somali.  We have Hoyo Sambusa at the stores where most Minnesotans shop” [about 80 locations in the Twin Cities, including food co-ops, Kowalski’s and Hy-Vee stores].  “This is something we can share.” 

Mariam is hopeful that Hoyo’s message of food and generosity and love of family will spread, becoming as familiar to Minnesotans as women walking in bright hijabs and flowing dresses along Lake Street. “This is one way to message what our community is,” she says. “Food is a uniter.” 

Photo: International Institute of Minnesota

Resources:

Hoyo: https://www.hoyosambusa.com

Hoyo products can be found in Twin Cities food markets: Co-ops, Kowalski’s Markets, Hy-Vee

Photos: Tracy Nordstrom and Milo Waltenbaugh, unless otherwise noted