MY AMHARIC AND ERITREAN FRIENDS

I had two friends. One was Amhara whose name was Jonathan and the other an Eritrean, and his name was Girma. They spoke the same language, had identical features, and shared the same cultural traits. Girma, the Eritrean, hated Jonathan so much that given the chance, he would have killed him. But I was always there between them as a peacemaker, a trusted friend, and practicing Muslim who stood by the Islamic values of peace and submission to Allaah, The Only Creator.

By then, I was young man with a Herculean-built body physique, energetic and consistently on guard in case the antagonists broke into fist fights. I treated them as equals. Besides the two, was a Nigerian friend. His name was Harvey. He was enrolled in university majoring in computer sciences. While Girma and Harvey shared a room, Jonathan and I lived with Amharic friends. Since most Ethiopians were Orthodox Christians, Sunday was a day of rejoicing and feasting, with Ethiopian Injera served to the fullest. They would later on listen to sermons by their Oromo priest.

The thirty years of brutal war between Ethiopia and the Eritreans was the cause of the enmity and hate between my two Christian friends. The animosity between my friends demands historical reflection. It started with the Italo-Ethiopian War of 1935-1936 that prepared the way for World War II and the ineffectiveness of the League of Nations to intervene. A border dispute between Ethiopia and Italian-Somaliland was the precursor for this altercation. Under the command of Generals Pietro Badoglio and Radolfo Graziani, the poorly-equipped Ethiopians were pushed without resistance from the heavily-armed forces of Fascist Benito Mussolini.

While my friends harbored internal grudges of the past, there was one thing they did not know: Past and present Ethiopian kingdoms and regimes brutally mistreated fellow Somalis in Ethiopia. The succession of kingdoms and dictatorial regimes that held sway over the Horn of Africa in the Medieval Ages to the present day, inflicted harm of the greatest magnitude to Somalis beyond human comprehension.

Going by the old adage, "never argue with a fool, people may not notice the difference", I kept aloof from raising issues that could enrage them and instead turn on me. Had that happened, I would have gone ballistic and pulverized their limbs and without an iota of doubt reducing them to diga iyo dambas. In the end, I would have frogmarched them to the nearest police station so they could be arraigned in court, convicted and sent to the Alembeka of the host nation.

Eritrea, though claiming independence from Ethiopia in 1991, viewed Ethiopia with much suspicion. As a keen follower of global events, the skirmishes at Badme and Zalambessa and the concerted aerial bombing by the mighty Ethiopian jet fighters rung in my ears years later. By the time my friends were squabbling, Somalia was a bleeding mess resulting from a scandalous, well-orchestrated scheme engineered by the two cousins that headed their nations: Deceased Meles Zenawi and Issaias Afewerki-two dreaded criminals who were hosts of Somalia's fallen government for many years before taking the helm.

I had learned a lot about the history of Ethiopia before meeting these two friends. Formerly Abyssinia, or the 'Land of the Habasha', Ethiopia meant a lot to me because I'm not the kind that hate people because of their race, religion, creed, color, sex, gender, national origin or political affiliation. Under the command of the Najashi or Negus, Muslims fleeing persecution from the Meccan idol worshiping Qureishites at the time of Prophet Muhammad (Peace and the Blessings of Allaah Be Upon Him) were given protection.

Neither Girma nor Jonathan were representative of Meles Zenawi and Issaias Afewerki. They were simply men with differing ideological foundations. Perhaps, my absence would have yielded a calamity. I believe my presence was necessary.