"War hooy, guriga ha isku immaan, maanta laga bilaabo aniga iyo adiga waxaan kala nahay separate", ayey Moogaay kutidhi ninkeeda Mooge oo markaasi ay kuwadahadlayeen telefoon. "Oo maxaa dhacay" ayuu ugu jawaabay asagoo caro ay wejigiisa kamuuqato.
"Waxaa maanta la iiso ogolaaday $800 oo 'food stamp' ah iyo $700 oo cash ah" ayey ugu jawaabtay ayadoo sii raacisay, "ninyahaw, aniga iyo labadeyda carruur waa ay nagu filantahay nololmaalmeedkeena ee iska kaya daa ee banaanadaada iska meermeer". Mooge wuxuu fahmay dulucda hadalka kasoo yeeray xaaskii uu qabay muddo todobo sannadood. "Walee hunguri baa qaaday naagtu" intuu caloosha ka yidhi ayuu danihiisa iska qabsaday.
In muddo ah Mooge kama uusan soo agdhowaan guriggisi. Wuxuu kumushquulay sidii uu ufuuli lahaa 'taxi' waayo wax kaloo uu qabto uma ayan muuqan. Shaqada tagsiga waxaa lagu yaqaan dhaadhac badan cid kaa dabaqaayliyeysana maba jiraan. Waa adiga iyo dadaalkaaga. Waa shaqo markaad doonto aad shaqeysan markaad nasasho ubaahatana aad iska dhigi gaariga. Maalintii oo dhan Mooge wuxuu saaxiibadiisa ay tagsiga islawadaan lacayaaraa shaxda iyo dubnadda. Meherad kale oo umuuqato ayuu waayey mar haddii looga digay inuu soo cagadhigto gurigiisa oonan loo ogoleyn in uuu soo arko labadiisi wiil.
Moogaay waxaa ubaxay mowjado cusub oo waxay laqabsatay rag iyo dumar ay isku aragti ka yihiin nolosha maanta. Intay aroortii ciyaalka baska iskoolka saarto umbey kudhacdaa gaarigii kala jiidnaa ee Mooge ugaday. Waxay maalinteeda kudhammeysataa damaashaad iyo waxa loo yaqaan 'wareeg iyo waab tiris'.
Isla markiiba waxay baratay rag isugu jira Soomaali iyo ajaanib kuwaaso luuqadda casriga ahi loo yaqaan 'boyfirend'. Moogaay nololi kama qasno oo waxay maalin walba soo xidhataa durucda ugu qaalisan ee loo yaqaan 'iga-dhex-arag'.
Wax cunto ah gurigeeda lagama kariyo waayo carruurtu maalintii oo dhan way maqanyihiin oo waxaa laga quudiyaa goobta ay wax kubartaan ayaduna waxaa quutul yowm u ah cuntada degdegga ee loo yaqaan 'take away' ee laga kariyo maqaayadaha sida Mcdonald, Wendys, Burger King iwm.
Wax yar kabacdi Moogaay waxay lasoo baxday Badhi soo jiidasho badan taaso ninkii arkaba marnaba uusan kaweecaneyn. Nin alaale ninkii soo agmara ama wuu fooriyaa ama hoonka gaariga ayuu kadhawaajiyaa biib... biib... biib... sidii lagu yaqiin caasi waalideyntii Xamareey markay Xamar ahayd. Waxaa loo baxshay naanays ah kalarogan.
Labadii wiil ee labadan waalid ee kala lumay ay dhaleen waxay noqdeen kuwo faraha kabaxay waayo tarbiyaddoodii iyo barbaarintoodii ayaa lumay. Waxay laqabsadeen carruur aan ladaryeelin oo xaafadaha si ba'an looga yaqaan kuna caanbaxay dhaca, boobka, iyo shiidnimada. Waxay labadii wiil kutalaabsadeen inay habeenada qaarkood iska maqnaadaan oo dibadaha kusoo dhaxaan. Wax dugsi ama Qur'aan ah oo loo dhigo ayaaban jirin.
Mooge wuxuu kawarhelay murugta iyo musiibada kuhabsaday ubadkiisa. Intuu dib isugu noqday ayuu bilaabay inuu shukaansado Moogaay sifa bal mar un uu ugu soo laabto gurigiisii oo carruurtiisa bal soo bidhaansado xaaladda ay kusuganyihiin. Moogaay inkasoo markii hore ay kibirsanayd goor dambe ayey soo jilicday ayadoo markani hamiyeysay inay ninkeedii hanato oo sidan isu dhaanto waayo eheladeeda iyo Soomaalidii deriska la ahayd ayaa canaan dusha uga tuuray kuna eedeysay in ayada ay usabab ahayd kala geynta qoyskooda.
Noloshooda waxay noqotay mid rogaalcelis ah inkastoo weli labadani isqabay ayan is haleelin laakiin waxaa sii batay wadahadalkoodi kaaso inta badan kusaleysnaa wadaxaajood xagga telefoonka ah. Mooge wuxuu go'aansaday inaanan mar dambe dabin loo qoolin ama aan ladagin.
Moogaay waxay iska deysay socodkii maalayacniga ahaa intii eheladeeda iyo saaxiibadeeda ay udigeen kadib. Waxaad moodaa in wax yar oo miyir ah kusoo noqday. Laakiin waxaa jiray wax ay qarsaneysay. Waa ceeb weligeed aysan kadawoobeyn. Waxaa lagu xamanaye in ay caloosha kusiday ilmo Mooge uusan kadhalin waayo waxaa kasoo wareegay muddo shan sannadood markay kala tageen.
Maalin maalmaha kamid ah ayuu Mooge fursad uhelay inuu soo booqdo gurigiisii uu xilliyo badan mooganaa. Waxay ahayd xilli aroor ah oo ilmaha isu diyaarinayeen iskoolkooda. Labadii carruur way labisnaayeen waxaa un keliya lasugaayey baskii iskoolka uqaadi lahaa.
Mooge ayaa albaabkii soo garaacay. Hore ayuu Moogaay ugu sheegay inuu immaanayo xilli aroor ah intaysan carruurta iskoolka aadin. Waxaa albaabka kafuray Moogaay oo ay farxad kamuuqato. Sifa aan looga dareemin wax uur ah ayey soo xiratay maro weyn oo gembis ah. Mar allaale markuu Mooge guriga foodda soo saaray umbey dhunkasho kubilowday ayadoo ka ilaalineysa caloosheeda.
Moogaay waxay isla markiiba isku tuurtay jikada waayo waxay udiyaarineysay Mooge quraac aysan abidkeed karin. Waxaa maalintan wejigeeda kamuuqday farxad iyo reynreyn aan hore loogu arag. Waxaa usaarnaa heeso af Soomaali oo jaceyl ah heesahaasoo ay ladhageysan jirtay Mooge waayo waayo markuu jaceylkoodii gaagaxayey. Daryaanka kabanka iyo durbaanada cartamaya waxay ahaayeen heestii ay kuluuqeyneysay Sahra Ahmed Jaamac ee ahaa 'jaceylkii nafteydow noolow, noolow gob baa tehee'.
Mooge isma lurin mana jixinjixin. Laakiin wuxuu tabanayey ayaa ahaa mid gooni ah. Intuu albaabkii jikada hore usoo dhaafay asagoo ammaanaya gacaalladiisa mar un afka afka usaaray. Wuxuu inyar dhuuqaba waxaa Moogaay qoorteeda kasoo butaacay dhiig karkaraya. Illeyn sii xeeladeysan ayuu gabadhu ugowracay. Intaa kumuusan deynine xididkii dhiiga tuuraye ayuu si ba'an afka ugu cantuugey oo dhiigeedii buu cabbay sidii biyaha. Hal mar bey dhul ugu dhacday sidii boor maroodiya oo laliicliicaya cudurka garabgooyaha loo yaqaan ee dabargooya raxanta. Wax ashahaada ah afkeeda lagama maqal halkii ayeyna kuqurbaxday.
Wiilkeedi weynaa ayaa markuu arkay dhiigga faraha badan ee hooyadiis kasoo butaacaya, isaga cararay gurigii asagoo aan dheg laqabto lahayn. Wuxuu ugalay reer madow ah oo ay deris ahaayeen wuxuuna usheegay in aabbihiis dilay hooyadiis.
Wiilkii yaraa wuxuu iskuxiray musqusha asagoo oohintiisa laga maqlaya dibedda. Qaddar kadib waxaa yimid booliskii oo albaabka guriga jebshay. Waxay gudaha ugu galeen Mooge oo gacanta kusita toorreey dhiig katiftifqaya bishimihiisana leh dhiig sidii labeenta caanaha. "Gacmaha kor utaag ayaa la amray". Si deganaansho ay kujirto ayuu gacmaha kor utaagay markaasa katiinad dhab lagu siiyay. Saldhigii booliska ayaa loo dhaadhiciyay halkaaso uu xukunsuge kuyahay.
Labadii wiil waxay dawladda gacanta kasaartay qoys madow ah oo deris la ahaa. Waxaan sannad dhammeyn markey qoyskani lanoolaayeen, ayaa wiilkii yaraa cabasho ugudbiyay xafiiska uqaabilsan arrimaha carrurta. Waa laga wareejiyay carruurtii qoyskii madowga ahaa waxaana loo geeyay habaryartooda oo ilaa haatan korintooda haysa.
Hadal iyo dhammaantii, lacagtani caydha ah waxay kalageysay qoysas badano Soomaaliyeed. Dumarkii ayaa waxay iska dhaadhacsheen in sida keliya ee ay kuheli karaan xoriyaddoda ay tahay in ragooda ay iska fogeeyaan deetana daldalshaan lacagtani caydha ah ee cidina kaxigin.
Mooge waa ahlu naar waayo wuxuu qudha kajaray xaaskiisii iyo dhallaan ay caloosha kusiday, Moogaayna waxay khiyaantay ninkeedii xalaasha kuqabay ayadoo kadooratay nolol xaaraan ah, ubadkoodiina waxay kunoolyihiin murugo iyo ciil.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
HAWL ‘QARAN’
‘Maxaad tidhi? Mobile’kii (cellphone) baa iga xumaadayee, kaalay oo iisoo hagaaji bay ku tidhiyaa!’ intuu yidhi Yucub - oo inta badan dadku ugu yeedhaan naanaystiisa wayso-cadde; ayuu yara hakiyay daqdaqaaqii kursigii uu hadba dhan isugu wareejinayay. Waxa uu talafoonka kula hadlayay saaxiibkii oo ay ku balan sanaayeen inuu war uga keeno gabadh uu baryahanba ku fikirayay inuu guursado.
Yucub waxa uu Wasiir(madax-xafiiseed) ka ahaa Xafiiska Wax-qabadka Umaada iyo Dabargoynta Musuqa, muddo lix bilood ku dhawaad ah. Waxaase talafoonkan xumaaday uga muhiimsanaa, siday gabadhaasi u aragto qorshahiisa oo uu u bandhigay habeen saddexaadkii.
‘War hayee, maxaa kalooy kuu sheegtay? Micnaha arimahanagii?’ Yucub ayaa weydiiyay.
‘Walaahiii,waxba iima sheegin.’ Saaxiibkii ayaa ku jawaabay.
‘Adigu maad la soo qaadid sheekada?’ Yucub wuxuu codkiisu u muuqday mid saluugsan jawaabta saaxiibkii.
‘Waan la soo qaaday, laakiin waa caadi umbay iigu soo gaabisay’. Saaxiibkii ayaa dhanna u dhaafinwaayay.
‘Caadiyeey maxaa tahay?’ Yucub ayaa si xamaasadaysan u waydiiyay.
Wuxuu su’aashiisa raaciyay ‘haa e, maxaad adigu ka fahantay muuqaalkeeda ama jawiga guud’.
Saaxiibkii oo aad u dhibban ayaa u sheegay in wax uu hadda ka shegi karo ayna jirin.
Yucub ayaa talefoonkii iska xidhay, isagoo aad u murugaysan, kuna gunuunacaya ‘annagaa wax aan waxba fahmi Karin, wax u diranay.’
Albaabka xafiiska Wasiirka waxaa fadhiyay, markii aan soo dhaafay, dad ugu yaraan aan ku qiyaasay ilaa iyo afartan, oo dhoobnaa halkaas ilaa muddadii wasiirka, oo aan ilma-adeer nahay, uu isoo galiyay gudaha xafiiskiisa. Wasiirku wuxuu jeclaysatay inaan wax kala arko ‘mashquulka’ shaqo ee u saamixi waayay inuu i qaabbilo muddo todobaad ku dhawaad ah, oo ah tan iyo intii aan joogay magaalada. Waxaa dadkaas horjoogay laba askari oo hubaysan iyo nin jilibkanaga ah oo ‘mutadawac’ ah; kaas oo la ii sheegay inuu kala saaro dadka intii ugali wasiirka iyo inta kale.
Gabadha xoghaynta ah, oo dhinac gees ah kombuutar yaal hor fadhiday, waxaa la ii sheegay inay shaqaddeedu tahay uun inay warqadaha la qoro teep-garayso islamarkaana qaybiso.
Markii aan xalay gurigiisa ugu tagay ayuu isagoo yaxyaxsan igu yiddhi, ‘war ninyahow adigu Canada iyo dhul hagaagsan baan ka timide, waxa nahaysata waxba ka ma ogid’. Sidaa darted ayuu ujeclaystay inaan subaxnimadda la arko ‘shaqooyinka’ uu umadda u hayo.
Daqiiqdoo kabacdi markii uu sheekaddii talafoonka uu dhamaystay, waxaa noo soo galay ninkii albaabka masuulka ka ahaa oo wasiirka ku yidhi, ‘ kii yaraa ee Diish’ka (satelletite dish) hagaajin jiray baa taagane…’ Isagoon hadalkiiba dhameyn, wasiirkiina aan jawaab ka sugin, ayuu soo daayay wiilkii.
‘Wali-yare, Diish’ka janaalladda (channels) cusub ee ku soo biiray, xaafaddi tagoo ii wada geli.’ Ayuu Yucub ku amaray wiilkii.
‘kuweed rabtaa?’ Wali ayaa su’aalay
‘Universal iyo jabuuti, iyo ilaa Somaliland TV way soo galaan baa la yidhi ee orod oo kuli ii geli.’ Wasiirka ayaa boqol Birr u fidiyay Wali; oo sii baxayay.
Waxaan si kadis ah uga war helay, nin askari ah oo si degdeg ah u soo dabamaray wiilkii sii baxayay, iyo wasiirkii oo kursiga intuu ka soo booday salaan diiran kala hortagay.
‘Salaam naw (saw nabad ma tihid) Tashoome? Indhet neh Geetaaye (side tahay taliye)?’ ayuu yidhi Yucub, isagoo laabta saaraya askariga.
‘Salaam naw (waa nabad)! Salaam naw (waa nabad)!’ intuu yidhi askarigii ayuu kursi jiitay oo uu ku fadhiistay.
‘Miyay alabaabka kugu xanibeen?’ ayuu af-axmaari ku waydiiyay, Yucub oo intaa u raaciyay ‘mashquul baan ahaaye’.
‘Maya. Dhib majirto. Laba daqiiqo unbaan fadhiyay’ ayuu yidhi laba-alifle Tashoome,oo katirsan ciidanka Xeradda Garab-case.
‘Laba daqiiqo aa’ Yucub oo cadhaysan ayaa ganbalel hortiisa yaalay ka dhawaajiyay, una yeedhay ninkii albaabka ka masuulka ahaa; oo aan shaqaale xafiisna aheyn.
‘War miyaana ku odhan ciidan wax ah lama celin karo. Maxaad u fadhisisay ninkan?’ Jaawaab isagoon ka sugin buu si kulul u canaantay una sheegay in mar danbe uuna u dulqaadan doonin.
Laba-alifle Tashoome ayaa wasiirka u sheegay in muraadka uu ugu yimid uu yahay, in wasiirku siiyo gaadhi iyo shidaal uu xaaskiisa oo Diri-dhabe joogta kaga soo qaado. Yucub ayaa markiiba amar arintaas fulinteeda ah bixiyay.
Waxaa kale oo Tashoome uu u sheegay wasiirka inay jiraan niman soo dacweeyay oo hagardaamo la maagan isaga. ‘ Yaa sawye, ya rer-digaale sawye, (ninkii isaga ahaa, kii reer-digaale), ineegaa mato nabare (aniguu ii yimid).’ Tashoome ayaa ooda ka qaaday wixii uu ninkaasi ka sheegay wasiirka. ‘ Yucub matfuu saw naw (Yucub waa nin xun), ciidanka ma jecla ayuu igu yidhi’. Hadalkiisii ayuu sii watay, ‘laakiin anigu tuug baad tahay baan ku idhi. Waana ku difaacay.’
Laba-aliflaha oo saluugay in Yucub uu shidaal iyo gaadhi uun ku sagootiyay, ayaa taabtay qodobkiisii uu ku furfuri jiray ‘masuuliyiinta’ gacanta adag. ‘Yucub, islaanta jaarkaaga ah waa nabad-diid, adiguna wax warbixin ah kama keentid ee waa side?’ ayuu waydiiyay wasiirka.
Yucub oo yaraha anfariiray, ayaa hadalo badan is dhax-dhigay.’ Ma ogi…waan la socdaa…eeen…imikaan daba galayaa.’
Wuxuuse Yucub gartay inayna arintaasi ka saarayn ‘kiiska’ uu ku jiro, iyadoo ‘qiimayntiina’ saddex cisho qudha ka hadhsan tahay. ‘ Tashoome, saddexdan kun ee Birr na xaaska shoobin (shopping) ugu soo samee,’ intuu yidhi ayuu jeebka gacanta galiyay.
Tashoome oo dhoola caddaynaya ayaa wasiirka si adag u salaamay isagoo sheegay in xilli kale ay iswaraysan doonaan; haddana uu ku degdegayo xafiiska Madax-weynaha oo laga sugayo. Yucub ayaa aad mabsuud u noqday maadaama uu ogaaday in Madaxwaynuhu uuna waxba ka qaadi karin,mar hadday Tashoome is fahmeen.
* * *
Ilaa iyo intii aan xafiiska galay oo aheyd 10:30 subaxnimo, iyo xiligii qado soo dhaawaatay, wax kale oo u soo galay wasiirka, waa jiray oday ku soo dabo dhuuntay nin shaxaad raadis ahaa oo wasiirku igu yidhi ‘waa af-maal oo waan iska hagaajiyaa’; markii uu nagabaxay. Odaygii soo dussay wuxuu ku qaylyay wasiirkii isagoo leh,‘miyaydaan bini-aadam aheyn. Waxaan ka imid tuuladdi Gaba-gabo oo oon iyo gaajo loogu baaba’ayo. Booyad biya ah hanaloo amro’.
Wasiirku si adag ayuu ula hadlay odayga. ‘adeer, ma booyad aan anigu darawal ka ahay yaad meesha ku aragtaa? Oonkase,xafiiskani ma waa tog ama wabi baa lagugu yidhi? Orod iska tag imika; intaana booliska xidha ku odhan. Sharci daraad xafiiska ku soo gashay.’ Ma uuna intaa ku joojin e wuxuu yidhi; ‘Hawl-qaran ayaanu meesha ku haynaa, ee anagu ashkhaas adeeg ma siino. Umaddaan u adeegnaa’.
‘War sharci aniga wax igama saaree; saaka oo dhan halkanaan kuu fadhiyay. Laguumana soo gali karo. Xaafaddaada afar cisho iyo habeenkood yaan dul taagnaa oo askartaadii soo dhaafi kari waayay. Adeeroow, ma sidanaa masuuliyad ah?’ odaygii oo aad u kululaday ayaa ugu jawaabay.
Yucub oo ‘fahmay’ in odaygu ‘ujeeddo’ kale u socdo, ayaa amray in boolisku odayga xafiiska ka saaraan. Kadibna, mid ka mid ah booliskii ayaa odayga garabka qabtay oo banaanka u jiiday. Inkastoo wasiirku lahaa ‘indhaha ku dhuftoo banaanka u saara’, waxay aniga ilaa muuqatay in yarkii booliska ahaa uuna jeclaysan inuu amarkaa fuliyo; waayo si tartiib ah oo aan riix-riix laheyn ayuu odayga u kaxeeyay.
Waxaan aad isu weydiiyay, midkood masuul ku haboonaa? Wasiirka mise yarka booliska ah!
Intii galinkii hore aheyd ee aan xafiiska ku wahelinayey wasiirka, oo aan ka badnayn laba saacadood; waxaan shah doonanay laba jeer-angoo sii dhex marnay dad tiro badan oo albaaka hortiisa, qaarna fadhiyeen qaarna taagnaayeen.
Xilli-qadaddi, anagoo cuntaddii dul fadhina ayaa naloo soo sheegay in islaanti Kaaha aheyd, oo wasiirka Habra-yar u ah ay naf-baxday. Waan la socday in maal-mahanba ay naf-ka dhowr aheyd.
Waxaan go’aansanay inaan aaskii qaban-qaabino; waana gudo galay hawshii. Muddo hal saac kadib ahba, waxaa naloo soo sheegay in xabaashi diyaar tahay. ‘Cagaf-cagaftii dowladda hoose ayaan helay’, ayuu noo sheegay Nuriye oo ah nin ‘tolka’ oo dhani ku yaqaan ka qaybgalka hawlaha la soo darsa reerka.
Intii aanu isu diyaarinaynay inaan maydka saaro gaadhi aan soo diyaarinay, ayuu wasiirku helay talafoon ka yimid gabadhii xoghaynta u aheyd. ‘Masarat, miyaana ku odhan u sheeg ciddii irabbta; inaan aaskii habar-yartay ku mashquulsanahay?’ Si canaan ah ayuu ula hadlay.
‘aaw bilahaal (haa,waad I tidhi). Gin,Towolde nabare, si nagraw, ayhonim yimtaa bilawal ( laakiin, Towoldhe ayuu ahaa ka ila soo hadlay; wuxuuna yidhi ma noqonayso ee ha yimaado). Towoldhe waa ‘la taliye xoog-weyn’ oo fadhiista Xafiiska Madax-waynaha.
Wasiirka ayaa la dardaarmay aniga iyo nimankii kale ee ehel ka ahaa. ‘War bal aaska sii dhamystira; aniga shaqaa la iigu yeedhaye’. Casarnimaddi markii uu soo laabtay ee aan waydiinay waxa deg degga ah ee keenay in aas looga yeedho, ayuu Yucub noo sheegay; in Towoldhe uu u soo dhiibay ‘Qorshaha Abaabulka Bulshada ee Heer-Degmo’ oo uu ‘la-taliyuhu’ Af-Axmaari ku diyaariyey. ‘ Si fiican intaad u akhrido, af-soomali ku soo turjum (fasir). Caawa ka soo shaqee oo subaxa ii keen’ ayaa la soo faray Yucub, siduu noo sheegay.
‘Oo dee, waan geeriyeysnahay e, qof kale raadi, ama dib iigu dhig maxaad u odhan wayday’ ayaan Yucub waydiiyay.
‘Ninyahow, waa nin dabeecad xun oo hadal ku celinta ma jecla. Qiimaynta xafiisyadana isagaa u xil saaran.’ Mudane Yucub ayaa iigu jawaabay.
Saddex habeen ka dib, markii adeerkayo Daahir uu u gar-dhigtay wasiirka; oo uu ku eedeeyay inuu dib u soo eegi waayay, iloobayna abaalkii uu u galay oo ahaa inuu soo koriyay kadib markii walidiintii dhinteen isagoo aad u yar; Yucub wuxuu ku andacooday inuu aad mashquul u ahaa intii ‘xilka’ uu qabtay.
Wuxuu yidhi; ‘adeer, ma sidded-iyo-toban qof baan iska dhigaa? Hawal culus oo qaran baan hayaa. Hal maalin ood xaafiska ii raacdid baad garan lahayd. Waa kane Mooge waydii! Waxa hawl iyo shaqo xafiiska ii taal. Habeen oo dhan warbixin baan qoraa; maalin oo dhan xafiiskii baan umaddi u adeegyaa. Gormaan wax haleelaa? Midda kale ee la xidhiidha inaan ku iloobay, maxaan haystaa adeer? Xafiiska anigu adeeg umadded umbaan u joogaa e ma wax mushahar dheer baan ka helaa? Maxaad igu tuhmaysaa?’
Is-af garan waa ayay doodii ku xidhantay. Adeer Daahir oo cadhaysan ayaana daaradii ka baxay. Wax yar ka dib markii ay nala soo fadhiisteen ilaa lix xildhibaan oo ka mid ah golaha deegaanka iyo xubno kale oo xisbiga ah; ayuu wasiirku calaacalkan u jeediyay.
‘Wakaa! masuuliyadda aan umadda u hayo, waxay nakala gaysay adeerkay. Walle, nin hawl-qaran ku mashquulaan hawlahiisa kale haleelin!’
Waxaa wasiirku uu bogaadiyay mid ka mid ah saaxiibadii; oo wasiirka u sheegay in uu soo helay cajaladdii uu u diray ee Khadra Dahir. ‘iyadoo Orjinaal ah ayaan soo duubay’, ayuu yidhi.
Kolkay ‘madaxdii iyo masuuliyiintii’ kala hoyden, waxaa wasiirka u yimid nin uu ku sheegay inuu darawal u yahay ‘la taliye’ Tolowldhe. Wasiirku inta uu qolka hordada galay oo uu bac-weyn oo duuduuban soo saaray ayuu ninkii u dhibay kuna yidhi; ‘usheeg, meeshii kale wali ima soo gaadhin ku dheh.’
Yucub waxa uu Wasiir(madax-xafiiseed) ka ahaa Xafiiska Wax-qabadka Umaada iyo Dabargoynta Musuqa, muddo lix bilood ku dhawaad ah. Waxaase talafoonkan xumaaday uga muhiimsanaa, siday gabadhaasi u aragto qorshahiisa oo uu u bandhigay habeen saddexaadkii.
‘War hayee, maxaa kalooy kuu sheegtay? Micnaha arimahanagii?’ Yucub ayaa weydiiyay.
‘Walaahiii,waxba iima sheegin.’ Saaxiibkii ayaa ku jawaabay.
‘Adigu maad la soo qaadid sheekada?’ Yucub wuxuu codkiisu u muuqday mid saluugsan jawaabta saaxiibkii.
‘Waan la soo qaaday, laakiin waa caadi umbay iigu soo gaabisay’. Saaxiibkii ayaa dhanna u dhaafinwaayay.
‘Caadiyeey maxaa tahay?’ Yucub ayaa si xamaasadaysan u waydiiyay.
Wuxuu su’aashiisa raaciyay ‘haa e, maxaad adigu ka fahantay muuqaalkeeda ama jawiga guud’.
Saaxiibkii oo aad u dhibban ayaa u sheegay in wax uu hadda ka shegi karo ayna jirin.
Yucub ayaa talefoonkii iska xidhay, isagoo aad u murugaysan, kuna gunuunacaya ‘annagaa wax aan waxba fahmi Karin, wax u diranay.’
Albaabka xafiiska Wasiirka waxaa fadhiyay, markii aan soo dhaafay, dad ugu yaraan aan ku qiyaasay ilaa iyo afartan, oo dhoobnaa halkaas ilaa muddadii wasiirka, oo aan ilma-adeer nahay, uu isoo galiyay gudaha xafiiskiisa. Wasiirku wuxuu jeclaysatay inaan wax kala arko ‘mashquulka’ shaqo ee u saamixi waayay inuu i qaabbilo muddo todobaad ku dhawaad ah, oo ah tan iyo intii aan joogay magaalada. Waxaa dadkaas horjoogay laba askari oo hubaysan iyo nin jilibkanaga ah oo ‘mutadawac’ ah; kaas oo la ii sheegay inuu kala saaro dadka intii ugali wasiirka iyo inta kale.
Gabadha xoghaynta ah, oo dhinac gees ah kombuutar yaal hor fadhiday, waxaa la ii sheegay inay shaqaddeedu tahay uun inay warqadaha la qoro teep-garayso islamarkaana qaybiso.
Markii aan xalay gurigiisa ugu tagay ayuu isagoo yaxyaxsan igu yiddhi, ‘war ninyahow adigu Canada iyo dhul hagaagsan baan ka timide, waxa nahaysata waxba ka ma ogid’. Sidaa darted ayuu ujeclaystay inaan subaxnimadda la arko ‘shaqooyinka’ uu umadda u hayo.
Daqiiqdoo kabacdi markii uu sheekaddii talafoonka uu dhamaystay, waxaa noo soo galay ninkii albaabka masuulka ka ahaa oo wasiirka ku yidhi, ‘ kii yaraa ee Diish’ka (satelletite dish) hagaajin jiray baa taagane…’ Isagoon hadalkiiba dhameyn, wasiirkiina aan jawaab ka sugin, ayuu soo daayay wiilkii.
‘Wali-yare, Diish’ka janaalladda (channels) cusub ee ku soo biiray, xaafaddi tagoo ii wada geli.’ Ayuu Yucub ku amaray wiilkii.
‘kuweed rabtaa?’ Wali ayaa su’aalay
‘Universal iyo jabuuti, iyo ilaa Somaliland TV way soo galaan baa la yidhi ee orod oo kuli ii geli.’ Wasiirka ayaa boqol Birr u fidiyay Wali; oo sii baxayay.
Waxaan si kadis ah uga war helay, nin askari ah oo si degdeg ah u soo dabamaray wiilkii sii baxayay, iyo wasiirkii oo kursiga intuu ka soo booday salaan diiran kala hortagay.
‘Salaam naw (saw nabad ma tihid) Tashoome? Indhet neh Geetaaye (side tahay taliye)?’ ayuu yidhi Yucub, isagoo laabta saaraya askariga.
‘Salaam naw (waa nabad)! Salaam naw (waa nabad)!’ intuu yidhi askarigii ayuu kursi jiitay oo uu ku fadhiistay.
‘Miyay alabaabka kugu xanibeen?’ ayuu af-axmaari ku waydiiyay, Yucub oo intaa u raaciyay ‘mashquul baan ahaaye’.
‘Maya. Dhib majirto. Laba daqiiqo unbaan fadhiyay’ ayuu yidhi laba-alifle Tashoome,oo katirsan ciidanka Xeradda Garab-case.
‘Laba daqiiqo aa’ Yucub oo cadhaysan ayaa ganbalel hortiisa yaalay ka dhawaajiyay, una yeedhay ninkii albaabka ka masuulka ahaa; oo aan shaqaale xafiisna aheyn.
‘War miyaana ku odhan ciidan wax ah lama celin karo. Maxaad u fadhisisay ninkan?’ Jaawaab isagoon ka sugin buu si kulul u canaantay una sheegay in mar danbe uuna u dulqaadan doonin.
Laba-alifle Tashoome ayaa wasiirka u sheegay in muraadka uu ugu yimid uu yahay, in wasiirku siiyo gaadhi iyo shidaal uu xaaskiisa oo Diri-dhabe joogta kaga soo qaado. Yucub ayaa markiiba amar arintaas fulinteeda ah bixiyay.
Waxaa kale oo Tashoome uu u sheegay wasiirka inay jiraan niman soo dacweeyay oo hagardaamo la maagan isaga. ‘ Yaa sawye, ya rer-digaale sawye, (ninkii isaga ahaa, kii reer-digaale), ineegaa mato nabare (aniguu ii yimid).’ Tashoome ayaa ooda ka qaaday wixii uu ninkaasi ka sheegay wasiirka. ‘ Yucub matfuu saw naw (Yucub waa nin xun), ciidanka ma jecla ayuu igu yidhi’. Hadalkiisii ayuu sii watay, ‘laakiin anigu tuug baad tahay baan ku idhi. Waana ku difaacay.’
Laba-aliflaha oo saluugay in Yucub uu shidaal iyo gaadhi uun ku sagootiyay, ayaa taabtay qodobkiisii uu ku furfuri jiray ‘masuuliyiinta’ gacanta adag. ‘Yucub, islaanta jaarkaaga ah waa nabad-diid, adiguna wax warbixin ah kama keentid ee waa side?’ ayuu waydiiyay wasiirka.
Yucub oo yaraha anfariiray, ayaa hadalo badan is dhax-dhigay.’ Ma ogi…waan la socdaa…eeen…imikaan daba galayaa.’
Wuxuuse Yucub gartay inayna arintaasi ka saarayn ‘kiiska’ uu ku jiro, iyadoo ‘qiimayntiina’ saddex cisho qudha ka hadhsan tahay. ‘ Tashoome, saddexdan kun ee Birr na xaaska shoobin (shopping) ugu soo samee,’ intuu yidhi ayuu jeebka gacanta galiyay.
Tashoome oo dhoola caddaynaya ayaa wasiirka si adag u salaamay isagoo sheegay in xilli kale ay iswaraysan doonaan; haddana uu ku degdegayo xafiiska Madax-weynaha oo laga sugayo. Yucub ayaa aad mabsuud u noqday maadaama uu ogaaday in Madaxwaynuhu uuna waxba ka qaadi karin,mar hadday Tashoome is fahmeen.
* * *
Ilaa iyo intii aan xafiiska galay oo aheyd 10:30 subaxnimo, iyo xiligii qado soo dhaawaatay, wax kale oo u soo galay wasiirka, waa jiray oday ku soo dabo dhuuntay nin shaxaad raadis ahaa oo wasiirku igu yidhi ‘waa af-maal oo waan iska hagaajiyaa’; markii uu nagabaxay. Odaygii soo dussay wuxuu ku qaylyay wasiirkii isagoo leh,‘miyaydaan bini-aadam aheyn. Waxaan ka imid tuuladdi Gaba-gabo oo oon iyo gaajo loogu baaba’ayo. Booyad biya ah hanaloo amro’.
Wasiirku si adag ayuu ula hadlay odayga. ‘adeer, ma booyad aan anigu darawal ka ahay yaad meesha ku aragtaa? Oonkase,xafiiskani ma waa tog ama wabi baa lagugu yidhi? Orod iska tag imika; intaana booliska xidha ku odhan. Sharci daraad xafiiska ku soo gashay.’ Ma uuna intaa ku joojin e wuxuu yidhi; ‘Hawl-qaran ayaanu meesha ku haynaa, ee anagu ashkhaas adeeg ma siino. Umaddaan u adeegnaa’.
‘War sharci aniga wax igama saaree; saaka oo dhan halkanaan kuu fadhiyay. Laguumana soo gali karo. Xaafaddaada afar cisho iyo habeenkood yaan dul taagnaa oo askartaadii soo dhaafi kari waayay. Adeeroow, ma sidanaa masuuliyad ah?’ odaygii oo aad u kululaday ayaa ugu jawaabay.
Yucub oo ‘fahmay’ in odaygu ‘ujeeddo’ kale u socdo, ayaa amray in boolisku odayga xafiiska ka saaraan. Kadibna, mid ka mid ah booliskii ayaa odayga garabka qabtay oo banaanka u jiiday. Inkastoo wasiirku lahaa ‘indhaha ku dhuftoo banaanka u saara’, waxay aniga ilaa muuqatay in yarkii booliska ahaa uuna jeclaysan inuu amarkaa fuliyo; waayo si tartiib ah oo aan riix-riix laheyn ayuu odayga u kaxeeyay.
Waxaan aad isu weydiiyay, midkood masuul ku haboonaa? Wasiirka mise yarka booliska ah!
Intii galinkii hore aheyd ee aan xafiiska ku wahelinayey wasiirka, oo aan ka badnayn laba saacadood; waxaan shah doonanay laba jeer-angoo sii dhex marnay dad tiro badan oo albaaka hortiisa, qaarna fadhiyeen qaarna taagnaayeen.
Xilli-qadaddi, anagoo cuntaddii dul fadhina ayaa naloo soo sheegay in islaanti Kaaha aheyd, oo wasiirka Habra-yar u ah ay naf-baxday. Waan la socday in maal-mahanba ay naf-ka dhowr aheyd.
Waxaan go’aansanay inaan aaskii qaban-qaabino; waana gudo galay hawshii. Muddo hal saac kadib ahba, waxaa naloo soo sheegay in xabaashi diyaar tahay. ‘Cagaf-cagaftii dowladda hoose ayaan helay’, ayuu noo sheegay Nuriye oo ah nin ‘tolka’ oo dhani ku yaqaan ka qaybgalka hawlaha la soo darsa reerka.
Intii aanu isu diyaarinaynay inaan maydka saaro gaadhi aan soo diyaarinay, ayuu wasiirku helay talafoon ka yimid gabadhii xoghaynta u aheyd. ‘Masarat, miyaana ku odhan u sheeg ciddii irabbta; inaan aaskii habar-yartay ku mashquulsanahay?’ Si canaan ah ayuu ula hadlay.
‘aaw bilahaal (haa,waad I tidhi). Gin,Towolde nabare, si nagraw, ayhonim yimtaa bilawal ( laakiin, Towoldhe ayuu ahaa ka ila soo hadlay; wuxuuna yidhi ma noqonayso ee ha yimaado). Towoldhe waa ‘la taliye xoog-weyn’ oo fadhiista Xafiiska Madax-waynaha.
Wasiirka ayaa la dardaarmay aniga iyo nimankii kale ee ehel ka ahaa. ‘War bal aaska sii dhamystira; aniga shaqaa la iigu yeedhaye’. Casarnimaddi markii uu soo laabtay ee aan waydiinay waxa deg degga ah ee keenay in aas looga yeedho, ayuu Yucub noo sheegay; in Towoldhe uu u soo dhiibay ‘Qorshaha Abaabulka Bulshada ee Heer-Degmo’ oo uu ‘la-taliyuhu’ Af-Axmaari ku diyaariyey. ‘ Si fiican intaad u akhrido, af-soomali ku soo turjum (fasir). Caawa ka soo shaqee oo subaxa ii keen’ ayaa la soo faray Yucub, siduu noo sheegay.
‘Oo dee, waan geeriyeysnahay e, qof kale raadi, ama dib iigu dhig maxaad u odhan wayday’ ayaan Yucub waydiiyay.
‘Ninyahow, waa nin dabeecad xun oo hadal ku celinta ma jecla. Qiimaynta xafiisyadana isagaa u xil saaran.’ Mudane Yucub ayaa iigu jawaabay.
Saddex habeen ka dib, markii adeerkayo Daahir uu u gar-dhigtay wasiirka; oo uu ku eedeeyay inuu dib u soo eegi waayay, iloobayna abaalkii uu u galay oo ahaa inuu soo koriyay kadib markii walidiintii dhinteen isagoo aad u yar; Yucub wuxuu ku andacooday inuu aad mashquul u ahaa intii ‘xilka’ uu qabtay.
Wuxuu yidhi; ‘adeer, ma sidded-iyo-toban qof baan iska dhigaa? Hawal culus oo qaran baan hayaa. Hal maalin ood xaafiska ii raacdid baad garan lahayd. Waa kane Mooge waydii! Waxa hawl iyo shaqo xafiiska ii taal. Habeen oo dhan warbixin baan qoraa; maalin oo dhan xafiiskii baan umaddi u adeegyaa. Gormaan wax haleelaa? Midda kale ee la xidhiidha inaan ku iloobay, maxaan haystaa adeer? Xafiiska anigu adeeg umadded umbaan u joogaa e ma wax mushahar dheer baan ka helaa? Maxaad igu tuhmaysaa?’
Is-af garan waa ayay doodii ku xidhantay. Adeer Daahir oo cadhaysan ayaana daaradii ka baxay. Wax yar ka dib markii ay nala soo fadhiisteen ilaa lix xildhibaan oo ka mid ah golaha deegaanka iyo xubno kale oo xisbiga ah; ayuu wasiirku calaacalkan u jeediyay.
‘Wakaa! masuuliyadda aan umadda u hayo, waxay nakala gaysay adeerkay. Walle, nin hawl-qaran ku mashquulaan hawlahiisa kale haleelin!’
Waxaa wasiirku uu bogaadiyay mid ka mid ah saaxiibadii; oo wasiirka u sheegay in uu soo helay cajaladdii uu u diray ee Khadra Dahir. ‘iyadoo Orjinaal ah ayaan soo duubay’, ayuu yidhi.
Kolkay ‘madaxdii iyo masuuliyiintii’ kala hoyden, waxaa wasiirka u yimid nin uu ku sheegay inuu darawal u yahay ‘la taliye’ Tolowldhe. Wasiirku inta uu qolka hordada galay oo uu bac-weyn oo duuduuban soo saaray ayuu ninkii u dhibay kuna yidhi; ‘usheeg, meeshii kale wali ima soo gaadhin ku dheh.’
Monday, March 17, 2008
Madax-kusheegga, Tuugada, iyo Jaajuusiinta Garissa way Midoobeen
Beri baa nin sarkaal ah, haaystayna derejada District Commissioner (DC)-waa Guddoomiye Degmo-oo ay qaraabo yihiin Madaxweynihii markaasi talada Kiiniya hayey looso bedelay magaalda Garissa sifa uu ula wareego xil markaasi laga bedelay nin asaga ka horeeyay.
Sida caadada u ahayd odayaasha caadaqaatayaasha ah ee kubahoobay musuqmaasuqa, jaajuusnimada, iyo boobka aan kala go'a lahayn, ayaa mar un isa soo dhoobay xafiiskii Guddoomiyihii cusbaa ayagoo doonayey bal mar un inay martiqaadaan sifa ay muraadkooda uga fushadaan.
Saaxiib, looma kala harin shaxdani. Wixii dhoolatus ahaa ee lagu yaqiin ayey hal mar un layimaadeen. Buuqa iyo sawaxanka ay la horboodayeen xafiiska hortiisa waa mid cid waliba oo goobjoog ahayd lafajacday. Jaadka miirowga kan ugu qaalisan ee loo yaqaan 'bei kali' ayey qaarkood calaajinayeen. Qaarna waxayba cabbayeen sigaar aan horey gobolka loogu arag. Hardankooda waa mid lagu riiqmi gaadhay.
Mid baa wuxuu xidhnaa qamiis, mid baa wuxuu kutaagsanayey hangool la xardhay; mid baa wuxuu kuluudayey usha saaxirka ah ee loo yaqaan 'saalimow' oo lagu soo dhoobay xeydh; mid kalena macawis aan hore loogu arag iyo nikis uusan weligiis dabagashan ayaa kadhexbidhaamayey; mid baa wuxuu ku labisnaa 'three piece suit'; mid kalena dharka loo yaqiin 'Kaunda Suit' ee uu caanka ku ahaa Madaxweynihii hore ee Zambia, Mudane Kenneth Kaunda ayuu ku laafyoonayey si xariifnimo ay kudheehantahay.
Horaa loo yiri "tuug, tuug baa loo diraa". Wax yar kadib ayaa waxaa loo fasaxay inay wadajir ugalaan madaxani cusub. Waa wareey! waxaabad moodaa saaxiib kamaqnaa in muddo ah. Qaar baa miraaday; qaar baa shafka shafka usaaray; qaar baa dhunkasho dhabanada kala dhacay; qaar baa dhulka isku dhuftay.
Horta nimanyahaw waxaan idiinsheegi reer galbeedku markey yimaadeen Afrikada Bari amaba guud ahaan Qaaradda Afrika, waxay dadka ukala qaybiyeen koox koox hadba sida ay afka, muuqaalka, deegaanka, ama lahjadda isaga ekaayeen markaasi.
Waxaa jira qabiilooyiin kunool Kiiniya oo marka ay hadlayaan ubadan oraahda ah 'abiyaa' ama 'abiyo' oo ay micnaheedu tahay 'abtiyow'. Qabiiladani waxaa kamid ah sida: Masai ama Maasai oo awalan iska lahaa magaalada Nairobi oo ay micnaheedu tahay 'meeshii biyaha qaboobaa' ahna erey kamid ah afkooda. Waxaa kaloo 'abiyo' ama 'abiyaa' yiraahdaa qabiilada ay kamidka yihiin Samburu iyo Rendille.
Arrinku waa mashaqee, ninka ay odayaashu oodda ujebiyeen wuxuu ahaa qabiilka loo yaqaan Kalenjin. Rer Galbeedku Kalenjin-tu waxay kusifeeyeen inay kamid yihiin dadka loo yaqaan Nilotes ama Nilotic. Waxaana ay sidaasi ugu micneeyeen waa dad dega Webiga Niil agagaarkiisa oo waa dad madow badan ayna ehel wadaagaan qabiilada ay kamidka yihiin Dinka oo dega Sudan iyo Luo oo dega daanta Lake Victoria ee Kubaahsan Kiiniya, Ugaandha iyo Tansaaniya.
Kalenjin-ku intii uu Moi talada hayey waxaa laga dareemayey inay ehel lawadaagaan Soomaalida waayo in badan baa dhihi jirey ereyga ah 'abiyo' ama 'abiyaa'. Dabcan, reer Galbeedku ayaa kusifeeyay qowmiyad aysan kamid ahayn. Haddaba, mudanahan cusub waxay odayaashu u arkayeen inuu ahaa nin ay ehel wadaagaan, sidaasi ayaana ku kalliftay in ay usoo dhoweeyaan sidii nin ayaga ladhashay oo kale.
Haddaba, waxay dabanashleeyaanba, shirkii wuxuu ku dhammaaday jawi wanaagsan ayadoo odayaashi ay kaga soo tegeen 'abiyow' ama ina abtigoodan cusub lacag aan xad lahayn. Waxay kunoqotay mudanihii cusbaa "yaab yaabkiis iyo ammakaag" waayo ma uusan filanayn soo dhoweynta noocaasi oo kale weligiisna ma uusan arag soodhoweyn noocaasi oo kale intii Kiiniya uu xilal kaladuwan kasoo qabtay.
Asagoon waxba is lurin ayuu lacagtii meel isaga tuuray. Maalin maalmaha kamid ah ayuu isugu yeeray odayaashi. Wuu umahadnaqay sidii sharfta lahayd ee ay ugu soo dhoweeyeen deegaankooda. Guntii iyo gebagebadii wuxuu weydiiyay bal inay usheegaan xigmadda kadamabeysay lacagta faraha badani ee ay agtiisa soo dhoobeen. Waxayna usheegeen in asagu yahay wiilkooda oo kale waajibna kutahay inay usoo dhoweeyaan sidii lagu yaqiin ee ahayd deeqsinimo, walaaltinimo, kalgaceyl iwm.
Wuxuu kacodsaday bal inay lacagahooda dib ugurtaan waayo wuxuu dareemay in lacagtaasi ay ahayd laaluush balse aysan ahayn mid ay kusoo dhoweynayeen. Wuuna uga digay inayan mar dambe la immaan ummurahaasi oo kale waayo waa waxyaabaha uu uyimid inuu ladagaalamo sida: laaluushka, musuqmaasuqa, xatooyada, iyo wax laysdabamarsiiyo.
Ayagoo sidii xuunshada uhaadaya uyunbuu mid waliba halkii isaga cararay. In muddo ahna lama maqal wax ku saabsan musuqmaasuq iyo wax lahalmaala.
Haddaba bal aan usoo noqono jaajusnimada. Magaalada Garissa waa hooyadii jaajuusiinta. Layaab maleh in dhulka loo yaqaan Ogaden ee Itoobiya guumeysato sidoo kale kubadanyihiin jaajuusiinta. Waxaa caado u ah guumeystaha inuu u isticmaalo qaar kamida dadka uu guumeysto shaqada jaajuusnimada.
Odey Soomaaliyeed ayaan hadda kahor lasheekeeystay. Wuxuu ii sheegay qiso kudhacday asagoo jooga Garissa markaasna kayimid Soomaaliya. Wuxuu yiri, "waxaan waayey cid i aamminta oo xitaa ii ogolaata musqul". Bal kawarran qofka loo diiday musqul shaki laga qabo awgeed? "Anoo taagan geed qurac hoostiisa ayaa waxaa ii yimid nin udhashay magaalada Garissa" ayuu sii raaciyay hadalkiisi oo ay kamuuqatay caro. "Waryaa, inteed katimid" ayuu iweydiiyay. "Waxaan ka imid Soomaaliya" ayaan ugu jawaabay buu yiri. "War hooy Soomaaliya dambe yaan lagaa maqlin magaaladan waa magaalo jaajuus".
Ninkii rer Garissa ahaa ayaa intuu meel qabuura ah farta kufiiqay ku yiri odeydii, "ma ujeeddaa qabuurahaasi"? Haa baan ku iri buu yiri. "Halkaasi waxaa kuwada aasan waa jaajuusiin uwada dhintay Tibisha (TB) ee lasoco marna afkaaga yaanan laga maqlin Soomaaliya ee nabadey".
Intii udhexeysay xuriyaddii Kiiniya (1963) ilaa haatan, gobolka Woqoyi Bari Kiiniya waxaa ummuuraha nabadgelyada gobolka oo dhan horbooda jaajuusiin Soomaali ah kuwaaso mushaharadooda ay ku xidhantahay hadba inta qof oo ay soo jaajuusaan. Raggani oo innaba hayaraatee wax caafimaad ahi ayan kamuuqan, ayaa kunool silic iyo saxariir waayo waa habaar kunool. Waxaad arkeysa ayagoo lafaha feeraha ay muuqdaan qaarkood; qaar dhegaha ayey la'yihiin ama il bey la'yihiin ama midabkooda ayaa doorsoomay. Gelin hore iyo gelin dambe waxay hor dhoobanyihiin xafiiska nabadsugidda sifa ay warar dadka uga tebiyaan.
Silic kunoole jaajuus, tuug tuug dhale, iyo madax-kusheeg aan cidna amrin waa ummuur cajabisey soo galootiga Garissa iyo safarreyda warmoogga ah ee yaan loo deymo la'aan dhammaantiin.
Sida caadada u ahayd odayaasha caadaqaatayaasha ah ee kubahoobay musuqmaasuqa, jaajuusnimada, iyo boobka aan kala go'a lahayn, ayaa mar un isa soo dhoobay xafiiskii Guddoomiyihii cusbaa ayagoo doonayey bal mar un inay martiqaadaan sifa ay muraadkooda uga fushadaan.
Saaxiib, looma kala harin shaxdani. Wixii dhoolatus ahaa ee lagu yaqiin ayey hal mar un layimaadeen. Buuqa iyo sawaxanka ay la horboodayeen xafiiska hortiisa waa mid cid waliba oo goobjoog ahayd lafajacday. Jaadka miirowga kan ugu qaalisan ee loo yaqaan 'bei kali' ayey qaarkood calaajinayeen. Qaarna waxayba cabbayeen sigaar aan horey gobolka loogu arag. Hardankooda waa mid lagu riiqmi gaadhay.
Mid baa wuxuu xidhnaa qamiis, mid baa wuxuu kutaagsanayey hangool la xardhay; mid baa wuxuu kuluudayey usha saaxirka ah ee loo yaqaan 'saalimow' oo lagu soo dhoobay xeydh; mid kalena macawis aan hore loogu arag iyo nikis uusan weligiis dabagashan ayaa kadhexbidhaamayey; mid baa wuxuu ku labisnaa 'three piece suit'; mid kalena dharka loo yaqiin 'Kaunda Suit' ee uu caanka ku ahaa Madaxweynihii hore ee Zambia, Mudane Kenneth Kaunda ayuu ku laafyoonayey si xariifnimo ay kudheehantahay.
Horaa loo yiri "tuug, tuug baa loo diraa". Wax yar kadib ayaa waxaa loo fasaxay inay wadajir ugalaan madaxani cusub. Waa wareey! waxaabad moodaa saaxiib kamaqnaa in muddo ah. Qaar baa miraaday; qaar baa shafka shafka usaaray; qaar baa dhunkasho dhabanada kala dhacay; qaar baa dhulka isku dhuftay.
Horta nimanyahaw waxaan idiinsheegi reer galbeedku markey yimaadeen Afrikada Bari amaba guud ahaan Qaaradda Afrika, waxay dadka ukala qaybiyeen koox koox hadba sida ay afka, muuqaalka, deegaanka, ama lahjadda isaga ekaayeen markaasi.
Waxaa jira qabiilooyiin kunool Kiiniya oo marka ay hadlayaan ubadan oraahda ah 'abiyaa' ama 'abiyo' oo ay micnaheedu tahay 'abtiyow'. Qabiiladani waxaa kamid ah sida: Masai ama Maasai oo awalan iska lahaa magaalada Nairobi oo ay micnaheedu tahay 'meeshii biyaha qaboobaa' ahna erey kamid ah afkooda. Waxaa kaloo 'abiyo' ama 'abiyaa' yiraahdaa qabiilada ay kamidka yihiin Samburu iyo Rendille.
Arrinku waa mashaqee, ninka ay odayaashu oodda ujebiyeen wuxuu ahaa qabiilka loo yaqaan Kalenjin. Rer Galbeedku Kalenjin-tu waxay kusifeeyeen inay kamid yihiin dadka loo yaqaan Nilotes ama Nilotic. Waxaana ay sidaasi ugu micneeyeen waa dad dega Webiga Niil agagaarkiisa oo waa dad madow badan ayna ehel wadaagaan qabiilada ay kamidka yihiin Dinka oo dega Sudan iyo Luo oo dega daanta Lake Victoria ee Kubaahsan Kiiniya, Ugaandha iyo Tansaaniya.
Kalenjin-ku intii uu Moi talada hayey waxaa laga dareemayey inay ehel lawadaagaan Soomaalida waayo in badan baa dhihi jirey ereyga ah 'abiyo' ama 'abiyaa'. Dabcan, reer Galbeedku ayaa kusifeeyay qowmiyad aysan kamid ahayn. Haddaba, mudanahan cusub waxay odayaashu u arkayeen inuu ahaa nin ay ehel wadaagaan, sidaasi ayaana ku kalliftay in ay usoo dhoweeyaan sidii nin ayaga ladhashay oo kale.
Haddaba, waxay dabanashleeyaanba, shirkii wuxuu ku dhammaaday jawi wanaagsan ayadoo odayaashi ay kaga soo tegeen 'abiyow' ama ina abtigoodan cusub lacag aan xad lahayn. Waxay kunoqotay mudanihii cusbaa "yaab yaabkiis iyo ammakaag" waayo ma uusan filanayn soo dhoweynta noocaasi oo kale weligiisna ma uusan arag soodhoweyn noocaasi oo kale intii Kiiniya uu xilal kaladuwan kasoo qabtay.
Asagoon waxba is lurin ayuu lacagtii meel isaga tuuray. Maalin maalmaha kamid ah ayuu isugu yeeray odayaashi. Wuu umahadnaqay sidii sharfta lahayd ee ay ugu soo dhoweeyeen deegaankooda. Guntii iyo gebagebadii wuxuu weydiiyay bal inay usheegaan xigmadda kadamabeysay lacagta faraha badani ee ay agtiisa soo dhoobeen. Waxayna usheegeen in asagu yahay wiilkooda oo kale waajibna kutahay inay usoo dhoweeyaan sidii lagu yaqiin ee ahayd deeqsinimo, walaaltinimo, kalgaceyl iwm.
Wuxuu kacodsaday bal inay lacagahooda dib ugurtaan waayo wuxuu dareemay in lacagtaasi ay ahayd laaluush balse aysan ahayn mid ay kusoo dhoweynayeen. Wuuna uga digay inayan mar dambe la immaan ummurahaasi oo kale waayo waa waxyaabaha uu uyimid inuu ladagaalamo sida: laaluushka, musuqmaasuqa, xatooyada, iyo wax laysdabamarsiiyo.
Ayagoo sidii xuunshada uhaadaya uyunbuu mid waliba halkii isaga cararay. In muddo ahna lama maqal wax ku saabsan musuqmaasuq iyo wax lahalmaala.
Haddaba bal aan usoo noqono jaajusnimada. Magaalada Garissa waa hooyadii jaajuusiinta. Layaab maleh in dhulka loo yaqaan Ogaden ee Itoobiya guumeysato sidoo kale kubadanyihiin jaajuusiinta. Waxaa caado u ah guumeystaha inuu u isticmaalo qaar kamida dadka uu guumeysto shaqada jaajuusnimada.
Odey Soomaaliyeed ayaan hadda kahor lasheekeeystay. Wuxuu ii sheegay qiso kudhacday asagoo jooga Garissa markaasna kayimid Soomaaliya. Wuxuu yiri, "waxaan waayey cid i aamminta oo xitaa ii ogolaata musqul". Bal kawarran qofka loo diiday musqul shaki laga qabo awgeed? "Anoo taagan geed qurac hoostiisa ayaa waxaa ii yimid nin udhashay magaalada Garissa" ayuu sii raaciyay hadalkiisi oo ay kamuuqatay caro. "Waryaa, inteed katimid" ayuu iweydiiyay. "Waxaan ka imid Soomaaliya" ayaan ugu jawaabay buu yiri. "War hooy Soomaaliya dambe yaan lagaa maqlin magaaladan waa magaalo jaajuus".
Ninkii rer Garissa ahaa ayaa intuu meel qabuura ah farta kufiiqay ku yiri odeydii, "ma ujeeddaa qabuurahaasi"? Haa baan ku iri buu yiri. "Halkaasi waxaa kuwada aasan waa jaajuusiin uwada dhintay Tibisha (TB) ee lasoco marna afkaaga yaanan laga maqlin Soomaaliya ee nabadey".
Intii udhexeysay xuriyaddii Kiiniya (1963) ilaa haatan, gobolka Woqoyi Bari Kiiniya waxaa ummuuraha nabadgelyada gobolka oo dhan horbooda jaajuusiin Soomaali ah kuwaaso mushaharadooda ay ku xidhantahay hadba inta qof oo ay soo jaajuusaan. Raggani oo innaba hayaraatee wax caafimaad ahi ayan kamuuqan, ayaa kunool silic iyo saxariir waayo waa habaar kunool. Waxaad arkeysa ayagoo lafaha feeraha ay muuqdaan qaarkood; qaar dhegaha ayey la'yihiin ama il bey la'yihiin ama midabkooda ayaa doorsoomay. Gelin hore iyo gelin dambe waxay hor dhoobanyihiin xafiiska nabadsugidda sifa ay warar dadka uga tebiyaan.
Silic kunoole jaajuus, tuug tuug dhale, iyo madax-kusheeg aan cidna amrin waa ummuur cajabisey soo galootiga Garissa iyo safarreyda warmoogga ah ee yaan loo deymo la'aan dhammaantiin.
LIFE UNDER TIGRAYAN TROGLODYTES
Disclaimer: It is true people from Tigray are not all beneficiaries of the loot or participants of the crimes perpetrated by Tigray Peoples’ Liberation Front (TPLF). Sadly, it is also true all current power-wielders in Ethiopia are Tigrayans. The writer wishes to emphasize this distinction. Let it be known to all that I am talking about the Tigrayan elites in power in this article-not the people of Tigray.
It is not by happenstance that deep odium has been bubbling inside the hearts of people in different parts of Ethiopia against the Tigrayan condottieri, for over a decade now. From Gurage to Amahra, from Oromo to Berta, from Afar to Sidama, from Ogaden to Anuak, from Addis Ababa to Arba-Minch; people are praying for the day they will, at last, hymn good riddance to these ‘rude’ masters. Why? Because they are bad rulers!
I will provide the proof for that assertion and offer explanations as to why they are hopeless in their ‘superior’ position.
In 2005 elections, the Coalition for Unity and Democracy (CUD), overwhelmingly won the votes of the urban areas, the intelligentsia, Amhara, Gurage, and significant parts of the Southern Nations, Nationalities, and People’s (SNPP) region. The Oromo National Congress- took Oromia by landslide; while most of SNNP region was swept by its southern-ally in the United Ethiopia Democratic Forces (UEDF).That is, before the eventual turn around of events, and crowning of fake winners. The defeat proved the depth and intensity of the popular displeasure with the Ethiopian Peoples Revolutionary Democratic Front (EPRDF)- the overcoat of the TPLF-by the people of these regions.
In the remaining regions-euphemistically known as ‘the developing regions’- Satellite parties of the EPRDF, were declared winners; with no big furore, as people resigned to their fate, having seen what has transpired in the decisive regions.
The shaky make-up of the pseudo-federal entities in Ethiopia is one more proof of the ‘misadventures’ of the TPLF; who designed a system of governance for which its social background and party ideology is ill-prepared to accommodate. Blighted by pernicious habit of lying and looting, they hoped they will manage to confuse and cheat the rest of the people in Ethiopia.
The Amharic adage, ‘you don’t trust a man till you put him beneath the soil’ is taken by the heart; by the founding fathers of the TPLF. It might have been wise to adhere to it, in those days of ‘rebel-life’ in the deserts of Tigray; but certainly, that mentally clashes with the requisite principles of delegation of responsibility and trusting subordinates, central to modern management philosophies. Far worse, it is an anti-thesis of decentralisation and the principle of subsidiarity; that is mandatory for a true federalism to flourish.
That obsession with control, and mistrust of ‘others’, explains why most of the puppet leaders in the ‘federal’ states are social rejects who have not gone far in education; and who therefore depend on the TPLF for survival.
The biggest joke –in faking leaders for other nationalities- is witnessed in the resource-abundant Oromia; where a stranger to the locals is ‘anointed’ as their president. Many Oromo’s categorically rebuff the claim that Abadula Gamada, the president of Oromia, hails from their ethnic community. They similarly, dismiss the Illubabur-born Taye Takle-haymanot, a.k,a Kuma Demeksa-the Defence Minster; as being not one of their own. In Somali region, the current president is married to a Tigrayan woman- something believed to have been instrumental to his rise to power. In Afar region, Ismail Ali Serro-the president, is more of a Tigre than an Afari.
Not that I wish to argue that the nationality of the person matters much, but it is appropriate to lay bare the false claims of the TPLF clique to the readers: the nauseating orations on democracy, good governance, and ethnic federalism.
Some people are mystified why the TPLF rulers couldn’t pick better pawns; with a bit of acceptable credentials. Surely, it is not a matter of scarcity of ‘intellectuals for sale’. What these people fail to understand is the quintessential Tigrayan’s psyche of suspicion and what I wish to call the ‘minority-insecurity syndrome’.
I know for them it will be a painful read, but let me push their agony a little longer; by elaborating on the two traits. Firstly, the suspicion trait.
Meles has designated regions as private ‘fiefdoms’ to his kins; because he doesn’t trust anyone outside the ‘tribe’. A trait invariably shared by most Tigrayan elites. That partially explains why the most trivial decisions cannot be passed by ‘local’ officials, without consultations with TPLF ‘advisors’.
The TPLF leadership planted ‘advisors’-powerful ‘advisors’, in all regions; except Tigray, where there is no apparent need for one. Officially, these advisors ‘provide technical assistance’ to the regional government bureaus. This is laughable, as most are ex-fighters with none or little capabilities to perform such duties.
A notable example is one Ato Towolde-the advisor-cum-king in Somali regional State. With nothing more than a mere Diploma in social science to boast of – like the majority of TPLF ‘scholars’, he is an alumni of the civil service college established by EPRDF; the man often refers to his fighting-days’ experiences and arbitrary gut-feelings to rule the region. Like his predecessor, Gabrewahid, who has obligated to himself the task of selecting people’s representatives during elections; Towolde chooses the cabinet and party officials, and runs the day-to-day activities of the Somali region.
Indeed, the irritating aspect of this not-so-disguised ‘direct’ rule is how noticeable it is. The TPLF elites don’t even bother to mask that they are running the show all over Ethiopia. Whether it is in Somali region, or Afar or Gambella- it is Abay Tsehaye, or Meresa, or Gebra-Ab, all Tigrayans, who are sent to fix it, when things need to be fixed. It is either Ignorance or arrogance-or both; that can only blind Towlede to the embarrassment he is causing to himself, or inflicting on his ‘servile subjects’; when he hands out a series of instructions to the regional ‘president’ in cabinet meetings. Or when he narrates with glee how he brought this or that ‘parvaneu’politician, from obscurity to ‘high office’-over dinner tables.
No wonder, therefore, that the recently concluded SPDP farcical conference promoted his ‘toddlers’ to the highest positions. Much more, can be said about him, but that is not the theme of the article, and this should suffice to illustrate the nature of the tribe-based style of governance of the TPLF.
In addition to espionage and control; TPLF henchmen’s stretching of tribal tentacles to ‘all Shangiri-La spots’ also has much to do with corruption and debauchery.
A fact the rhetorician Meles, himself, admitted; when he was warming up to oust ex-comrades from the TPLF; after they disagreed on the conduct of the war with Eritrea. Back then, the master of all deception – Meles; twisted political terminologies and branded the out-witted hitherto ‘strongmen of the party’- including the flamboyant Seye Abraha; ‘Bonapartists’’.
It is time to ask what the basis of this suspicious behaviour is. TPLF knows that it is a minority group that has fought its way to power; and is ruling Ethiopia by sheer force and intimidation. It, therefore, thinks everyone out there is plotting to oust it. That fear from the ‘threat’ posed by the ‘giant beast’ subdued so far, makes the TPLF leadership hyper-vigilant. All the resultant wrongs and crimes it has committed against other nationalities; and the fear that the ‘victims’ will retaliate-if they were to be given a chance-reinforces the severity of their paranoia.
With morbid thinking and virtual degeneration to misanthropy, they have become enemies of reason, rational people, and mutual interest. They conceive violent antipathy to whomever and whatever they perceive as a challenge; or a deterrent to their ‘tribal’ aspirations of self-enrichment and conquest.
A perfect example of their ‘madness’ can be discerned from their actions in the war against the Ogaden people; where the primitive principle of vicarious liability is practised by the TPLF at the dawn of the 21st century. It is common to see a father imprisoned or killed for the ‘misdeeds’ of the son; who joined the ‘rebels’.
Impelled by paranoia and self-doubt, and an irrational fright evoked by ‘minority’ complexity; Tigrayan ‘urban’ troglodytes, consider even the most ‘loyal lackeys’ a potential menace.
Thus, they have sleepless nights; watching their back. And they do that with a lethal blend of braggadocio, savagery and thuggery.
In consequence, life is becoming unbearable for millions of Ethiopians, and for the unfortunate people of Somalia; who are caught by the rummaging army of the Tigrayan Yakuza.
It is not by happenstance that deep odium has been bubbling inside the hearts of people in different parts of Ethiopia against the Tigrayan condottieri, for over a decade now. From Gurage to Amahra, from Oromo to Berta, from Afar to Sidama, from Ogaden to Anuak, from Addis Ababa to Arba-Minch; people are praying for the day they will, at last, hymn good riddance to these ‘rude’ masters. Why? Because they are bad rulers!
I will provide the proof for that assertion and offer explanations as to why they are hopeless in their ‘superior’ position.
In 2005 elections, the Coalition for Unity and Democracy (CUD), overwhelmingly won the votes of the urban areas, the intelligentsia, Amhara, Gurage, and significant parts of the Southern Nations, Nationalities, and People’s (SNPP) region. The Oromo National Congress- took Oromia by landslide; while most of SNNP region was swept by its southern-ally in the United Ethiopia Democratic Forces (UEDF).That is, before the eventual turn around of events, and crowning of fake winners. The defeat proved the depth and intensity of the popular displeasure with the Ethiopian Peoples Revolutionary Democratic Front (EPRDF)- the overcoat of the TPLF-by the people of these regions.
In the remaining regions-euphemistically known as ‘the developing regions’- Satellite parties of the EPRDF, were declared winners; with no big furore, as people resigned to their fate, having seen what has transpired in the decisive regions.
The shaky make-up of the pseudo-federal entities in Ethiopia is one more proof of the ‘misadventures’ of the TPLF; who designed a system of governance for which its social background and party ideology is ill-prepared to accommodate. Blighted by pernicious habit of lying and looting, they hoped they will manage to confuse and cheat the rest of the people in Ethiopia.
The Amharic adage, ‘you don’t trust a man till you put him beneath the soil’ is taken by the heart; by the founding fathers of the TPLF. It might have been wise to adhere to it, in those days of ‘rebel-life’ in the deserts of Tigray; but certainly, that mentally clashes with the requisite principles of delegation of responsibility and trusting subordinates, central to modern management philosophies. Far worse, it is an anti-thesis of decentralisation and the principle of subsidiarity; that is mandatory for a true federalism to flourish.
That obsession with control, and mistrust of ‘others’, explains why most of the puppet leaders in the ‘federal’ states are social rejects who have not gone far in education; and who therefore depend on the TPLF for survival.
The biggest joke –in faking leaders for other nationalities- is witnessed in the resource-abundant Oromia; where a stranger to the locals is ‘anointed’ as their president. Many Oromo’s categorically rebuff the claim that Abadula Gamada, the president of Oromia, hails from their ethnic community. They similarly, dismiss the Illubabur-born Taye Takle-haymanot, a.k,a Kuma Demeksa-the Defence Minster; as being not one of their own. In Somali region, the current president is married to a Tigrayan woman- something believed to have been instrumental to his rise to power. In Afar region, Ismail Ali Serro-the president, is more of a Tigre than an Afari.
Not that I wish to argue that the nationality of the person matters much, but it is appropriate to lay bare the false claims of the TPLF clique to the readers: the nauseating orations on democracy, good governance, and ethnic federalism.
Some people are mystified why the TPLF rulers couldn’t pick better pawns; with a bit of acceptable credentials. Surely, it is not a matter of scarcity of ‘intellectuals for sale’. What these people fail to understand is the quintessential Tigrayan’s psyche of suspicion and what I wish to call the ‘minority-insecurity syndrome’.
I know for them it will be a painful read, but let me push their agony a little longer; by elaborating on the two traits. Firstly, the suspicion trait.
Meles has designated regions as private ‘fiefdoms’ to his kins; because he doesn’t trust anyone outside the ‘tribe’. A trait invariably shared by most Tigrayan elites. That partially explains why the most trivial decisions cannot be passed by ‘local’ officials, without consultations with TPLF ‘advisors’.
The TPLF leadership planted ‘advisors’-powerful ‘advisors’, in all regions; except Tigray, where there is no apparent need for one. Officially, these advisors ‘provide technical assistance’ to the regional government bureaus. This is laughable, as most are ex-fighters with none or little capabilities to perform such duties.
A notable example is one Ato Towolde-the advisor-cum-king in Somali regional State. With nothing more than a mere Diploma in social science to boast of – like the majority of TPLF ‘scholars’, he is an alumni of the civil service college established by EPRDF; the man often refers to his fighting-days’ experiences and arbitrary gut-feelings to rule the region. Like his predecessor, Gabrewahid, who has obligated to himself the task of selecting people’s representatives during elections; Towolde chooses the cabinet and party officials, and runs the day-to-day activities of the Somali region.
Indeed, the irritating aspect of this not-so-disguised ‘direct’ rule is how noticeable it is. The TPLF elites don’t even bother to mask that they are running the show all over Ethiopia. Whether it is in Somali region, or Afar or Gambella- it is Abay Tsehaye, or Meresa, or Gebra-Ab, all Tigrayans, who are sent to fix it, when things need to be fixed. It is either Ignorance or arrogance-or both; that can only blind Towlede to the embarrassment he is causing to himself, or inflicting on his ‘servile subjects’; when he hands out a series of instructions to the regional ‘president’ in cabinet meetings. Or when he narrates with glee how he brought this or that ‘parvaneu’politician, from obscurity to ‘high office’-over dinner tables.
No wonder, therefore, that the recently concluded SPDP farcical conference promoted his ‘toddlers’ to the highest positions. Much more, can be said about him, but that is not the theme of the article, and this should suffice to illustrate the nature of the tribe-based style of governance of the TPLF.
In addition to espionage and control; TPLF henchmen’s stretching of tribal tentacles to ‘all Shangiri-La spots’ also has much to do with corruption and debauchery.
A fact the rhetorician Meles, himself, admitted; when he was warming up to oust ex-comrades from the TPLF; after they disagreed on the conduct of the war with Eritrea. Back then, the master of all deception – Meles; twisted political terminologies and branded the out-witted hitherto ‘strongmen of the party’- including the flamboyant Seye Abraha; ‘Bonapartists’’.
It is time to ask what the basis of this suspicious behaviour is. TPLF knows that it is a minority group that has fought its way to power; and is ruling Ethiopia by sheer force and intimidation. It, therefore, thinks everyone out there is plotting to oust it. That fear from the ‘threat’ posed by the ‘giant beast’ subdued so far, makes the TPLF leadership hyper-vigilant. All the resultant wrongs and crimes it has committed against other nationalities; and the fear that the ‘victims’ will retaliate-if they were to be given a chance-reinforces the severity of their paranoia.
With morbid thinking and virtual degeneration to misanthropy, they have become enemies of reason, rational people, and mutual interest. They conceive violent antipathy to whomever and whatever they perceive as a challenge; or a deterrent to their ‘tribal’ aspirations of self-enrichment and conquest.
A perfect example of their ‘madness’ can be discerned from their actions in the war against the Ogaden people; where the primitive principle of vicarious liability is practised by the TPLF at the dawn of the 21st century. It is common to see a father imprisoned or killed for the ‘misdeeds’ of the son; who joined the ‘rebels’.
Impelled by paranoia and self-doubt, and an irrational fright evoked by ‘minority’ complexity; Tigrayan ‘urban’ troglodytes, consider even the most ‘loyal lackeys’ a potential menace.
Thus, they have sleepless nights; watching their back. And they do that with a lethal blend of braggadocio, savagery and thuggery.
In consequence, life is becoming unbearable for millions of Ethiopians, and for the unfortunate people of Somalia; who are caught by the rummaging army of the Tigrayan Yakuza.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Let's give our children their basic rights
It is disgusting to see Somali children suffer for a such a long time with no glimmer of hope and no light at the end of the tunnel. While the sons and daughters of Somali warlords bask under the sun in the Middle East, North America, and Europe with full protection paid for by the taxpayers of these nations, the deafening noise of artillery fire from their parents gun turrets is putting millions of Somali children at risk unable to feed because one or two of their parents have either been killed, maimed, or imprisoned in a lawless region generally at the mercy of dreaded militia.
Under President Siyad Barre, Somali children had peace and free education up to university level. Orphaned and illegitimate children had a place in the society. It was like the "no child left behind" policy currently enjoyed by American children under President Bush's concerted efforts of ensuring equal opportunity in the fields of education, housing, and healthcare.
Under Barre's regime, schools and special camps were reserved for those needy children and never at anytime did they experience any form of stratification and embellishment. Upon graduation from high school or university, these children found themselves working in the military ranks, social institutions, and some saw themselves in the forefront combating crimes of startling frequencies.
During the military junta, Somali children had complete love for their country, nation, and ideals as they could be seen singing revolutionary desiderata in school concerts and popular theatrical philharmonicas often competing for recognition and seeking delight in a land of poetrical innovations.
The 21st October revolution, in its effort to refurbish Somalia's institutions to acceptable and habitable levels, conceived the idea of having schools exclusively for disadvantaged children the most notable being the famous "Ubaxa Kacaanka" in the vicinity of Afgoi that produced wonderful, loyal, and inspiring generations of youth committed to social equality and economic prosperity.
Since 1991 when Somalia's central government collapsed, thousands of Somali children have perished in deliberate attacks orchestrated by men they used to refer to as 'uncles', 'grandpas', and 'dads' because at one time when there was peace, these men-turned-monsters carried respect among the general Somali community regardless of tribe, clan, or classification.
An atrocious phenomenon of the worst magnitude that attracted the eyes of the world was the mutilated bodies of children, women, and defenseless civilians left to rot in the streets of Baidoa in the early 90s pitying the administration of President George Herbert Bush to intervene militarily in what was dubbed "Operation Restore Hope" despite the consequences that followed.
Operation Restore Hope at first gained momentum and alsmost materialized as the multinational forces played a great role in resuscitating the dying thousands in the "City of Death" or Baidoa, that, had it been left to descend into chaos would be recorded as the worst human catastrophe of the century. The operation did bear fruits as the dying found solace in the hands of the humanitarian forces who did alot to revive them by distributing relief aid and much needed medical supplies.
General Aideed is regarded by many Somalis as a nationalist and hero because of his antagonistic tendencies towards foreign powers and to local Somali criminal warlords he perceived as aimed at destroying Somali solidarity yet he has been recorded as instigating for the cantonization of the Somali Democratic Republic. Upto this day, those who hail from Somalia's Digil/Mirifle clan feel the pain and affliction metted on them by Aideed and his forces shall remain ingrained in their minds forever.
It was General Aideed who caused the humanitarian disaster in Baidoa and he was the initial mastermind of the worst military scuffles that gripped Mogadishu and Kismayu during his tenure as head of the many guerilla operations. It was Aideed who aborted the humanitarian operations in Baidoa by turning his guns on the relief soldiers until the entire process suddenly collapsed forcing inexperienced President Bill Clinton to order withdrawal of US Forces from Somalia.
Somalia today boasts to have the biggest concentration of orphans in a dwindling economy immersed in political instability and social upheaval. Reports by Amnesty International, European Commission for Human Rights, UNESCO, MSF and other international agencies committed to humanitarian activities in Somalia report cases of atrocities and violence against children by Ethiopian Forces, those of the TFG, and the local armed militia.
The death of Somali children is often carried out by syndicates and death squads whose source of income depend on the nation's chronic instability. Orphanage homes dedicated to caring and educating these children have become targets for ransom and extortion. Many a times has the famous SOS orphanage home in Mogadishu bombed by Ethiopian Forces with no valid explanations.
Foreign humanitarian institutions who could be of service to our children have been viewed with suspicion by religious zealots operating in the country. Fear of evangelism and foreign religious influence has created an air of suspicion with some religious Somali figures advocating for total Jihad against anyone suspected of proselytizing Somali children.
Somali children are dying from minor curable diseases like marasmus, diarrhoea, typhoid, malaria, diphtheria and many other controllable diseases. The spread of these diseases is mainly attributed to broken sewarage systems and exposure of uncollected garbage that could have been the responsibilty of the municipality had there been a refuse collection system in place.
Despite having more medical institutions and hospitals, today's Mogadishu is unable to tackle the efficient distribution of immunization services to the most affected parts of the city either because movement has been hampered by insecurity because of the proliferation of roadblocks found almost everywhere. Polio which was long thought to have been eradicated from the face of the earth has resurfaced in Somalia many times.
Besides diseases, Somalia has become prone to devastating seasonal rains that inundate large areas making communication and travel impossible. At times, the Shebelli and Jubba rivers burst their banks destroying life and property and flooding farms that are the mainstay of the local economy. Waterborne diseases and lack of access to clean drinking water are cause for alarm.
Locust invasions have become a hazzard for many in Somalia. Millions of hectares of rich agricultural lands have been rendered useless by the swift destruction caused by locusts. The East African desert locust control research organization is no longer available in Somalia as there is no sole entity to monitor or give early warning data on the locust menace.
In 2007, Somalia saw the worst locust invasions with concurrent menaces afflicting several regions. While Somalis believe locust invasion to be a divine punishment, again, it is business as usual the next day. Killing with impunity continues uninterrupted until the next locust season.
The soil is being denuded of its nutrients by charcoal entrepreneurs who destroy large tracts of land with most perennial vegetation suffering the worst deforestation. The number of merchant ships moored in Somali ports is alarming. These ships arrive at the inviatation of warlords who serve Arab Sheikhs with heating for their fuel-starved furnances.
Patoralists are unable to feed their children due to the spread of trypanosomiasis and tse tse fly. East Africa was so closely knit before the collapse of the Somali Central Government such that in joint ventures neighboring countries were able to monitor the spread of livestock diseases.
The number of children blinded by disease and shrapnel is an issue to reckon with. Crippled children fill the streets of every Somali city with no independent society for their care and education. Neglected street children sniffing hazzardous petroleum products have no where to turn to for help in most towns and villages razed by artillery shells.
Can you imagine a child waking up early in the morning and not going to school. Where there is no safety for children, there is no peace for humanity. When children are at peace, the world rejoices. Every parent wishes to see his children grow up in an atmsophere of tranquility. Somalis need to reflect above clan politics and bring about everlasting peace for their children.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Unlimited Somali Ideophones Revealed
In this fast moving 21st Century of information superhighway, you should feel obligated to expose youself to the rest of the world so that your presence in words and deeds can be felt by others.
Long time ago, it was the Europeans who studied our languages and cultures and had them published in their lands while making hefty profits from these publications for the future of their grandchildren. Today, its quite different as the computer age enables anyone with the will to write to do so without much stress as information about the whole world has been fed into search engines and libraries for quick retrievals. That means, anyone who is computer literate can write exhaustively in almost any language and yet reap the same hefty profits or more the Europeans made in their heydays.
Watch out what I'm about to reveal. It is nothing new to you since these are words in our wonderful Somali language that revolve around in our daily conversations. But first let's have a glimpse of where in the world the Somali language is mostly spoken.
The Somali language, spoken by over 15 million worldwide, is popular in Somalia, Djibouti, Kenya, and Ethiopia; it is also spoken by immigrant Somali communities living in North America, the EU, and the Middle East, and quite a number living in some African countries and other parts of the world. It was first written in Latin in 1972 during the reign of Mohamed Siyad Barre (deposed and deceased).
Language is the technique people converse with each other using geatures, sounds, disarticulation, and good organization while phonology is the study of sounds and sound structures in a language and incorporates phonetics and phonemics. Differences abound in dialect or accent among speakers of the Somali language depending on where one lives.
Dialect means a language composition spoken among people of different social and regional defining features due to sexual characteristics, ethnic group, and background. The intermingling of the Somali with other societies has brought about changes in accent, dialectical composition, sounds, and pronounciations. So far, many dictionaries have been printed in Somali that circulate in many parts of the world, though; further work and additions may be needed to accommodate all speakers.
Consequently, many polyglots attest to the strangeness of the Somali language and its abundance in ideophones used instead of words. These sounds describe peculiar actions as they happen and may also be found in Bantoid, Hamito-Cushitic, and other Nilotic langauages.
Sounds or ideophones are few in the English language with the exception of a few you may have heard many times like: the ding dong of a church bell or the tick tock of a clock. In contrast, it is quite different in Somali as sound sciences commence from the time a child is conceived when he is referred to as mujuq, munjuq, or munjuluq-meaning delicate in nature and appearance.
Buluq, which may be described as the sound composed during delivery that evolved as a result of the baby's contact with amniotic fluid-the transitional period from the womb to the hands of the gynaecologist and baq when it is laid to rest on a hard surface which could be the skin or hide of an earlier sacrificial lamb reverberating with a qabac sound.
The waaq of ducks; caac of crows; baj or tufoo from the act of spitting; fiif or fuuf from the act of nose blowing; quxu and qax qax from coughing; bac which denotes a baby's flimsy blow; taw meaning to jump or spring up; fag or fagax means to run; fiiq describes the action of sipping tea; nac nac being useless talk; baf which implies to break or dislocate a bone; kaf is to separate two co-joined things or raf to pull with sheer force; yac or yoo being regret; ruq which means to uproot and jiiq from door lacking lubrication are sounds entirely used as describing actions as they happen instead of words.
Wab, wish, or nash all mean to whip or cane as punsihment; haw and fash indicate flow of blood or liquid; with ham being baby feeding technique; dhuq dhuq and fajaq are romantic acts; dhaq dhaq and dhiq dhiq all mean uncontrolled laughter; biq is anger; wac is a blow; qac is someone of low intelligence; kaw is demise while naf means being at the brink of death; biiq is being a coward or may also mean the act of breaking wind or furting.
Murux means laceration; bash is the breaking of glass; wiif is a stray bullet and qish or qash is to plagiarize. Wir or car is to dare something that will have consequences; muluq is recuperation; dhaw or dhac is a slap; wagagac is the flash of lightning; baq is fermentation or being frightened; bul is a blaze; jiq is like an impenetrable forest; juuq and jaaq means keep quiete and say nothing; dhub denotes one is deaf or hearing impaired; jaf is to peel; uu and aa all mean a war cry or groan in pain; qajac is chuffing of feet; kadh, qadhab, and kadhaw mean to staple together while baw is the beating of drums.
Jug means a blow or to swallow with force; juq or nuq is to penetrate or insert; tatatac is to walk lamely; dalaq means to enter without aim or knowledge of or to swallow as in food; qub though meaning to spill or maize cob, it also denotes the sound emanating from players of certain past time games; while qab is echo from a door shutting or closing.
Haakah is sound emitted by one bitten by an insect or serpent while it also may be the alarm sounded by one scared of injections or thorns; hodhodho implies empty or useless talk; xuf and xaaf is speed; manaq manaq is being mischievous; bodh bodh connotes bubbling; bidh bidh represents radiance or an object appearing from a distance; fagax is to race; buq is the sound made when a lid is removed from a container; balaq means to collapse though it also emans the male organs; jaw is a continuously reverberating sound; fatalaq is to tumble; jaq is to suckle while ciic is to use sheer force to emit excretion.
Fud and foq all mean to spring out as from a hole or enclosure; faq is to scramble; fashuuq is to squeeze as lemon or orange; fash indicates gushing liquid or blood; bash again means to splash; daf is to snatch; rif means shearing or jerking of hair; kud iyo kir means "back off with your aggression"; kaf is to rip off; quuq and qaaq is a from of crying; qiiq which means smoke also is the abrupt application of car brakes; damug and dam refer to total darkness or blindness; qumbuluq is to fall in to a ditch; qajajac is to crush under the feet or unsubstantiated talk; huuhaa implies talking senselessly; hayaay is an exclamation; shiiq applies to frying; shab denotes spraying or splashing while bariiq is to trip over, stuck in mud or fail an exam or test.
Fuuq is to drink heavy drinks like milkshake or creamy liquid; bacaac is the cry of the lamb while baac is a fool; fadfad is the bubbling of sticky cornmeal on a cooking pot; xaax is to feel cold; xuux is to instill fear in children; yaq is something nasty in appearance; aq is uttered when smoke disturbs one's visibility; yar is astonishment; uf is bad smell; bash is for any object that split into pieces when dropped while bush is when a jelly-like substance falls on the floor then splits in to bish; shabaax is sound from sea waves or meandering river water; dhibiq is for falling droplets; dhaw dhaw and qaw qaw is scrubbing of metals; hatishow is to sneeze; qabac qabac is when an object is blown by the wind; qab qab and dhow dhow is a knock on a door; brrr can be sounded with lubricated lips and is commonly used by livestock herders when watering their animals with ish and cay sounded when driving livestock.
Hag is used to move a donkey faster; haah is sounded when bringing goats to a resting palce; tuuw enables a camel to kneel down; heey-jac is to scare away wild animals especially at night while jooh is to restrain a camel or bull.
Nig,dhag or rig is a slight blow or slap; nag means impossible; dhab is to tighten or hold tightly and tuss is the release or escape of air from a balloon. Qalaw qalaw is the ringing of a bell or like nature; "wii is the sound made by a wounded or dying DikDik and way is an exclamation of distress or disappointment (Professor Georgi Kapchits) while qar-rac is to tear apart. "Wii Sagaaro iyo way Sokeeye midna lagama soo waaqsado" (Somali proverb).
Such is the simplicity of sounds in Somali that communication in clicks is possible among select groups without resorting to words; therefore, allowing them create exceptional form of conversation that flows ceaselessly and flawlessly more or less similar and of the same wavelength with some Southern African click languages.
In the absence of a strong central government and the collapse of our educational systems, our beautiful mother tongue is headed for extinction. The only way to resuscitate it is the formation of a strong national government before 2008 slips away.
Long time ago, it was the Europeans who studied our languages and cultures and had them published in their lands while making hefty profits from these publications for the future of their grandchildren. Today, its quite different as the computer age enables anyone with the will to write to do so without much stress as information about the whole world has been fed into search engines and libraries for quick retrievals. That means, anyone who is computer literate can write exhaustively in almost any language and yet reap the same hefty profits or more the Europeans made in their heydays.
Watch out what I'm about to reveal. It is nothing new to you since these are words in our wonderful Somali language that revolve around in our daily conversations. But first let's have a glimpse of where in the world the Somali language is mostly spoken.
The Somali language, spoken by over 15 million worldwide, is popular in Somalia, Djibouti, Kenya, and Ethiopia; it is also spoken by immigrant Somali communities living in North America, the EU, and the Middle East, and quite a number living in some African countries and other parts of the world. It was first written in Latin in 1972 during the reign of Mohamed Siyad Barre (deposed and deceased).
Language is the technique people converse with each other using geatures, sounds, disarticulation, and good organization while phonology is the study of sounds and sound structures in a language and incorporates phonetics and phonemics. Differences abound in dialect or accent among speakers of the Somali language depending on where one lives.
Dialect means a language composition spoken among people of different social and regional defining features due to sexual characteristics, ethnic group, and background. The intermingling of the Somali with other societies has brought about changes in accent, dialectical composition, sounds, and pronounciations. So far, many dictionaries have been printed in Somali that circulate in many parts of the world, though; further work and additions may be needed to accommodate all speakers.
Consequently, many polyglots attest to the strangeness of the Somali language and its abundance in ideophones used instead of words. These sounds describe peculiar actions as they happen and may also be found in Bantoid, Hamito-Cushitic, and other Nilotic langauages.
Sounds or ideophones are few in the English language with the exception of a few you may have heard many times like: the ding dong of a church bell or the tick tock of a clock. In contrast, it is quite different in Somali as sound sciences commence from the time a child is conceived when he is referred to as mujuq, munjuq, or munjuluq-meaning delicate in nature and appearance.
Buluq, which may be described as the sound composed during delivery that evolved as a result of the baby's contact with amniotic fluid-the transitional period from the womb to the hands of the gynaecologist and baq when it is laid to rest on a hard surface which could be the skin or hide of an earlier sacrificial lamb reverberating with a qabac sound.
The waaq of ducks; caac of crows; baj or tufoo from the act of spitting; fiif or fuuf from the act of nose blowing; quxu and qax qax from coughing; bac which denotes a baby's flimsy blow; taw meaning to jump or spring up; fag or fagax means to run; fiiq describes the action of sipping tea; nac nac being useless talk; baf which implies to break or dislocate a bone; kaf is to separate two co-joined things or raf to pull with sheer force; yac or yoo being regret; ruq which means to uproot and jiiq from door lacking lubrication are sounds entirely used as describing actions as they happen instead of words.
Wab, wish, or nash all mean to whip or cane as punsihment; haw and fash indicate flow of blood or liquid; with ham being baby feeding technique; dhuq dhuq and fajaq are romantic acts; dhaq dhaq and dhiq dhiq all mean uncontrolled laughter; biq is anger; wac is a blow; qac is someone of low intelligence; kaw is demise while naf means being at the brink of death; biiq is being a coward or may also mean the act of breaking wind or furting.
Murux means laceration; bash is the breaking of glass; wiif is a stray bullet and qish or qash is to plagiarize. Wir or car is to dare something that will have consequences; muluq is recuperation; dhaw or dhac is a slap; wagagac is the flash of lightning; baq is fermentation or being frightened; bul is a blaze; jiq is like an impenetrable forest; juuq and jaaq means keep quiete and say nothing; dhub denotes one is deaf or hearing impaired; jaf is to peel; uu and aa all mean a war cry or groan in pain; qajac is chuffing of feet; kadh, qadhab, and kadhaw mean to staple together while baw is the beating of drums.
Jug means a blow or to swallow with force; juq or nuq is to penetrate or insert; tatatac is to walk lamely; dalaq means to enter without aim or knowledge of or to swallow as in food; qub though meaning to spill or maize cob, it also denotes the sound emanating from players of certain past time games; while qab is echo from a door shutting or closing.
Haakah is sound emitted by one bitten by an insect or serpent while it also may be the alarm sounded by one scared of injections or thorns; hodhodho implies empty or useless talk; xuf and xaaf is speed; manaq manaq is being mischievous; bodh bodh connotes bubbling; bidh bidh represents radiance or an object appearing from a distance; fagax is to race; buq is the sound made when a lid is removed from a container; balaq means to collapse though it also emans the male organs; jaw is a continuously reverberating sound; fatalaq is to tumble; jaq is to suckle while ciic is to use sheer force to emit excretion.
Fud and foq all mean to spring out as from a hole or enclosure; faq is to scramble; fashuuq is to squeeze as lemon or orange; fash indicates gushing liquid or blood; bash again means to splash; daf is to snatch; rif means shearing or jerking of hair; kud iyo kir means "back off with your aggression"; kaf is to rip off; quuq and qaaq is a from of crying; qiiq which means smoke also is the abrupt application of car brakes; damug and dam refer to total darkness or blindness; qumbuluq is to fall in to a ditch; qajajac is to crush under the feet or unsubstantiated talk; huuhaa implies talking senselessly; hayaay is an exclamation; shiiq applies to frying; shab denotes spraying or splashing while bariiq is to trip over, stuck in mud or fail an exam or test.
Fuuq is to drink heavy drinks like milkshake or creamy liquid; bacaac is the cry of the lamb while baac is a fool; fadfad is the bubbling of sticky cornmeal on a cooking pot; xaax is to feel cold; xuux is to instill fear in children; yaq is something nasty in appearance; aq is uttered when smoke disturbs one's visibility; yar is astonishment; uf is bad smell; bash is for any object that split into pieces when dropped while bush is when a jelly-like substance falls on the floor then splits in to bish; shabaax is sound from sea waves or meandering river water; dhibiq is for falling droplets; dhaw dhaw and qaw qaw is scrubbing of metals; hatishow is to sneeze; qabac qabac is when an object is blown by the wind; qab qab and dhow dhow is a knock on a door; brrr can be sounded with lubricated lips and is commonly used by livestock herders when watering their animals with ish and cay sounded when driving livestock.
Hag is used to move a donkey faster; haah is sounded when bringing goats to a resting palce; tuuw enables a camel to kneel down; heey-jac is to scare away wild animals especially at night while jooh is to restrain a camel or bull.
Nig,dhag or rig is a slight blow or slap; nag means impossible; dhab is to tighten or hold tightly and tuss is the release or escape of air from a balloon. Qalaw qalaw is the ringing of a bell or like nature; "wii is the sound made by a wounded or dying DikDik and way is an exclamation of distress or disappointment (Professor Georgi Kapchits) while qar-rac is to tear apart. "Wii Sagaaro iyo way Sokeeye midna lagama soo waaqsado" (Somali proverb).
Such is the simplicity of sounds in Somali that communication in clicks is possible among select groups without resorting to words; therefore, allowing them create exceptional form of conversation that flows ceaselessly and flawlessly more or less similar and of the same wavelength with some Southern African click languages.
In the absence of a strong central government and the collapse of our educational systems, our beautiful mother tongue is headed for extinction. The only way to resuscitate it is the formation of a strong national government before 2008 slips away.
In which event were you born? How the Kenya government determines age of pastoralists
Looking back at the past history of our people of Cushitic extracts or of like features residing in Kenya's Eastern and North Eastern Provinces (formerly the Northern Frontier Districts or in short NFD)-who share cultural and linguistic approaches-will, if we are truly serious about knowing part of missing Somali past, irradiate concealed treasures of chronologically historical episodes retrievable from the few surviving super-centenarian storytellers with narratives worthy of recitation-a sequence of events worth deciphering-that seem to be far from the reach of our local historians in far away libraries or for some unknown reasons that have not been documented to this day.
It is a history laden with courage and wit, maladies and famine that afflicted humans, wild and domesticated animals alike; it is one of murder, locust invasions, blizzards, rape, and cattle rustling; it details a cornucopia of occurences during the colonial adminsitration; it features immeasurable wealth of information regarding past tribal clashes between the Borana, Ogaden-Somali, Sakuye, Garre, Ajuran, Murille and Degodia tribes which dragged on for over a hundred years.
Ironically, since majority of pastotalists were illiterate, these events became a tool for ascertaining the exact birth dates for people of the same age groups as the few semi-literate able-bodied men familiar with the Gregorian and Hegirae calendars migrated to the towns in search of better prospects-most probably to work for the colonial administrations as spies, cooks, translators, watchmen, and as armed askaris (soldiers but in the real sense Administration Policemen locally known as "Duubcas" as they were known to wear turbans for headgear).
What mattered most to these people about time was not birthday celebrations with cakes and cookies but having strength and equanimity, a wealth of livestock and sons, religious conviction, abundant water and pasture, poetic eminence, and dependable tribes during difficult times.
The sense of humor chronicled in these events despite containing vulgarities and utterly promiscuous exploits is not intended in any way or form to malign the good name or reputation of any entity or tribe but is being presented here in order to show cultural correlations between these tribes and their recorded important historical events.
Chronology of events
1901. Baahale civil war between Mohamed Zubeir, Auliyaha, and Bah-Geri.
1904. The year of Khalu. Perhaps he was a great Borana warrior who wanted to wage
war against Somalis but gave up the idea after he entered Kenya from Ethiopia.
1906. The year of devastating famine when all camels were eaten in Garisaa District
because they were the only animals available.
1907. Breakout of Mohamed Zubeir-Abdalla war.
1911. Borana commanded by Ali Buke fought the Somalis.
1912. Borana and Samburu fought at a place called Kome. Samburus were defeated.
1912. Abdwak-Mohamed Zubeir war ingintes.
1913. The Borana warrior, Kote, who was born without fingers on one hand, dies.
1915. Borana warrior Guyo Gutu dies after being killed by an elephant.
1917. Is remembered as the year when the Sakuye killed two Somalis and were
collectively fined 400 heads of cattle as compensation.
1918. Mohamed Zubeir-Auliyahan war kicks off.
1919. The year the Borana and Gabra could not reconcile forcing the Gabra to move to
Marsabit.
1919. Auliyahan-British war.
1920. Sannadkii biyo fuud. A year of drought and the introduction of tea and sugar
in Garissa District.
1922. Koodhi kacarar. People escaped to Somalia to avoid paying poll tax.
1923. Kenya-Somalis crossed into Italian Somaliland.
1925. Borana killed a Somalia and were fined 100 heads of cattle as blood money.
1925. Sannadkii Saangur (Sankuri) ladhisay. The year Sankuri was built.
1929. Tribal war beween the Garre and Murille in Elwak.
1931. Angered by the killing of Borana by Somalis, the Borana, seeking compensation,
appealed to the District Commissioner, a Mr. Dadlocks, who in turn confiscated
Somali camels.
1932. Deer Fanta. Outbreak of Small pox.
1933. The colonial administration fined the Borana 1200 heads of cattle for the
killing of six Somalis.
1934. British-Auliyahan war.
1935. Deer Ayax. The year of locust invasion.
1936. The year Garissa was built.
1937. Sannadkii caano arag. The year of abundant milk.
1937. Sannadkii kala carar. The year of pandemonium when people ran to unknown
destinations in search of food.
1941. Sannadkii Lo' duraay. The introduction of veterinary services.
1944. A Borana named Abduba Ali was killed by Somali Shifta (bandits). The Shifta
was killed by the Borana in retaliation.
1944. Sannadkii dhul qod. The introduction of dams.
1944. Mohamed Zubeir-Bartire war.
1946. The death of Sultan Sambul.
1946. The year people slaughtered young calves for food due to famine.
1948. Borana killed two Ajurans; fined 200 heads of cattle as compensation.
1948. Kadhaqso kudhufo. A war song warning a rapist to hurry up with his immoral act
as the husband of the wife was coming to bay for his blood. It was a year of
rejoicing for Somalis after a long drought.
1949. The year Sultan Maalim Muhamed was stabbed.
1953. Garabgooye. A killer disease that decimated cattle and elephants and anyone
who ate them.
1955. Boran galaay. The year when many Somalis moved to Modogashe (Madoogaashe) and
Borana land due to severe drought.
1956. Guskii caano teg. A young Somali man, who, after attaining age 20, raped every
woman he met each time paying as compensation 5 to 8 cows until he ran bankrupt. He
finally repented his sins.
The Kenya Census Bureau deserves credit for chronicling such important historical events in its experimentation of past census exercises despite small margins of error.
From these events we are able to adduce evidence of incest in past tribal social makeups, territorial rivalry, and adverse living conditions-conditions dictated by mother nature in poor tribal societies-whose only source of income was livestock-livestock that solely depended on scarce rain followed by intermittent drought that decimated a great many populations scavenging for the few available resources in a vast desert-whipped Somali Abbo and Somali regions stretching from the Northen tip of Moyale to the southern terrains of Garissa.
Students interested in the history of NFD need exploit the atrociuos wars between the Auliyan-a sub clan of the Ogaden-Somali and the heavily equipped British Colonial Administration. Names like the Sakuye and Murille may at first sound non-Somali though the vast majority of these tribes concentrate in Wajir and Mandera respectively to as far as Moyale, Marsabit, and Isiolo in the expansive Eastern Province.
Though little has been mentioned about the exquisite Wardey-a clan that originally owned this vast region-students of history need to remember that their original name was Gabbra or Galla. Names like Hargeisa, Garbaharey, Afmadow and many other towns, places, and villages that now form Greater Somalia political irredentism, have their origin in Wardey vocabularies.
From the little historical knowledge we have about NFD, the first batch of men on horseback consisted of 250 Ogaden bachelor warriors who started their journey in the current Ogaden region occupied by Ethiopia almost three centuries ago traversing thousands of miles until they reached the foothills of Nakuru long before the struggle of Seyyid Muhammad Abdille Hassan-alias "Mad Mullah". These dedicated men intermarried with the Wardey and thus set up settlements for Ahmediya Islamic religious propagation.
Our absolute dependence on European colonial writings and our failure to undertake our own research has made the task of writing our own history redundant and obsolete. The governments of East Africa have not been much better as their inclinations to European colonial ideals retarded our young historians pursuit of our past. It took the combined efforts of three independent minds to spread Communism to the entire world. Karl Marx was not alone; someone published his ideas while a third figure disseminated his ideas-an idea that became an ideology to reckon with even to this very day.
It is a history laden with courage and wit, maladies and famine that afflicted humans, wild and domesticated animals alike; it is one of murder, locust invasions, blizzards, rape, and cattle rustling; it details a cornucopia of occurences during the colonial adminsitration; it features immeasurable wealth of information regarding past tribal clashes between the Borana, Ogaden-Somali, Sakuye, Garre, Ajuran, Murille and Degodia tribes which dragged on for over a hundred years.
Ironically, since majority of pastotalists were illiterate, these events became a tool for ascertaining the exact birth dates for people of the same age groups as the few semi-literate able-bodied men familiar with the Gregorian and Hegirae calendars migrated to the towns in search of better prospects-most probably to work for the colonial administrations as spies, cooks, translators, watchmen, and as armed askaris (soldiers but in the real sense Administration Policemen locally known as "Duubcas" as they were known to wear turbans for headgear).
What mattered most to these people about time was not birthday celebrations with cakes and cookies but having strength and equanimity, a wealth of livestock and sons, religious conviction, abundant water and pasture, poetic eminence, and dependable tribes during difficult times.
The sense of humor chronicled in these events despite containing vulgarities and utterly promiscuous exploits is not intended in any way or form to malign the good name or reputation of any entity or tribe but is being presented here in order to show cultural correlations between these tribes and their recorded important historical events.
Chronology of events
1901. Baahale civil war between Mohamed Zubeir, Auliyaha, and Bah-Geri.
1904. The year of Khalu. Perhaps he was a great Borana warrior who wanted to wage
war against Somalis but gave up the idea after he entered Kenya from Ethiopia.
1906. The year of devastating famine when all camels were eaten in Garisaa District
because they were the only animals available.
1907. Breakout of Mohamed Zubeir-Abdalla war.
1911. Borana commanded by Ali Buke fought the Somalis.
1912. Borana and Samburu fought at a place called Kome. Samburus were defeated.
1912. Abdwak-Mohamed Zubeir war ingintes.
1913. The Borana warrior, Kote, who was born without fingers on one hand, dies.
1915. Borana warrior Guyo Gutu dies after being killed by an elephant.
1917. Is remembered as the year when the Sakuye killed two Somalis and were
collectively fined 400 heads of cattle as compensation.
1918. Mohamed Zubeir-Auliyahan war kicks off.
1919. The year the Borana and Gabra could not reconcile forcing the Gabra to move to
Marsabit.
1919. Auliyahan-British war.
1920. Sannadkii biyo fuud. A year of drought and the introduction of tea and sugar
in Garissa District.
1922. Koodhi kacarar. People escaped to Somalia to avoid paying poll tax.
1923. Kenya-Somalis crossed into Italian Somaliland.
1925. Borana killed a Somalia and were fined 100 heads of cattle as blood money.
1925. Sannadkii Saangur (Sankuri) ladhisay. The year Sankuri was built.
1929. Tribal war beween the Garre and Murille in Elwak.
1931. Angered by the killing of Borana by Somalis, the Borana, seeking compensation,
appealed to the District Commissioner, a Mr. Dadlocks, who in turn confiscated
Somali camels.
1932. Deer Fanta. Outbreak of Small pox.
1933. The colonial administration fined the Borana 1200 heads of cattle for the
killing of six Somalis.
1934. British-Auliyahan war.
1935. Deer Ayax. The year of locust invasion.
1936. The year Garissa was built.
1937. Sannadkii caano arag. The year of abundant milk.
1937. Sannadkii kala carar. The year of pandemonium when people ran to unknown
destinations in search of food.
1941. Sannadkii Lo' duraay. The introduction of veterinary services.
1944. A Borana named Abduba Ali was killed by Somali Shifta (bandits). The Shifta
was killed by the Borana in retaliation.
1944. Sannadkii dhul qod. The introduction of dams.
1944. Mohamed Zubeir-Bartire war.
1946. The death of Sultan Sambul.
1946. The year people slaughtered young calves for food due to famine.
1948. Borana killed two Ajurans; fined 200 heads of cattle as compensation.
1948. Kadhaqso kudhufo. A war song warning a rapist to hurry up with his immoral act
as the husband of the wife was coming to bay for his blood. It was a year of
rejoicing for Somalis after a long drought.
1949. The year Sultan Maalim Muhamed was stabbed.
1953. Garabgooye. A killer disease that decimated cattle and elephants and anyone
who ate them.
1955. Boran galaay. The year when many Somalis moved to Modogashe (Madoogaashe) and
Borana land due to severe drought.
1956. Guskii caano teg. A young Somali man, who, after attaining age 20, raped every
woman he met each time paying as compensation 5 to 8 cows until he ran bankrupt. He
finally repented his sins.
The Kenya Census Bureau deserves credit for chronicling such important historical events in its experimentation of past census exercises despite small margins of error.
From these events we are able to adduce evidence of incest in past tribal social makeups, territorial rivalry, and adverse living conditions-conditions dictated by mother nature in poor tribal societies-whose only source of income was livestock-livestock that solely depended on scarce rain followed by intermittent drought that decimated a great many populations scavenging for the few available resources in a vast desert-whipped Somali Abbo and Somali regions stretching from the Northen tip of Moyale to the southern terrains of Garissa.
Students interested in the history of NFD need exploit the atrociuos wars between the Auliyan-a sub clan of the Ogaden-Somali and the heavily equipped British Colonial Administration. Names like the Sakuye and Murille may at first sound non-Somali though the vast majority of these tribes concentrate in Wajir and Mandera respectively to as far as Moyale, Marsabit, and Isiolo in the expansive Eastern Province.
Though little has been mentioned about the exquisite Wardey-a clan that originally owned this vast region-students of history need to remember that their original name was Gabbra or Galla. Names like Hargeisa, Garbaharey, Afmadow and many other towns, places, and villages that now form Greater Somalia political irredentism, have their origin in Wardey vocabularies.
From the little historical knowledge we have about NFD, the first batch of men on horseback consisted of 250 Ogaden bachelor warriors who started their journey in the current Ogaden region occupied by Ethiopia almost three centuries ago traversing thousands of miles until they reached the foothills of Nakuru long before the struggle of Seyyid Muhammad Abdille Hassan-alias "Mad Mullah". These dedicated men intermarried with the Wardey and thus set up settlements for Ahmediya Islamic religious propagation.
Our absolute dependence on European colonial writings and our failure to undertake our own research has made the task of writing our own history redundant and obsolete. The governments of East Africa have not been much better as their inclinations to European colonial ideals retarded our young historians pursuit of our past. It took the combined efforts of three independent minds to spread Communism to the entire world. Karl Marx was not alone; someone published his ideas while a third figure disseminated his ideas-an idea that became an ideology to reckon with even to this very day.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
STRANGE BEDFELLOWS: WFP AND THE ARMY IN OGADEN
‘I have no intention of jeopardising WFP’s good relations with the government of Ethiopia’, Ms Ingeborg told Abshir. She threw her hands wildly, in frustration. Then, she switched on the intercom in front of her. Gazing at the big map of ‘Somali region’ hanging from the wall, she summoned Captain Shimelis.
Shemelis was employed by the World Food Program -Jigjiga, three months ago. He is an ex-fighter of the Tigray People’s Liberation Front. She passed the field report submitted by the balding Abshir to the captain. ‘Please go over it and look for inconsistencies or inflammatory remarks’ she told him. She was not finished; ‘when you are done with it, I will disseminate to our partners’.
A little earlier, she shook her head in disgust, as she read few lines from Abshir’s report. ‘The food security situation of the region is worsening. Nearly one million people are facing acute food shortages. Twice that number is in dire need of water.’ The report said.
It was a scathing field report. ‘Food is neither delivered to distribution sites, nor distributed to the intended beneficiaries. In most districts, it is hoarded in army stores. And it is the army commanders who decide who gets it.’ Although this is a flagrant violation of the UN’s core humanitarian principles, Ms. Ingeborg was unfazed. ‘After all, who else is in a position to deliver the food?’ She openly tells the humanitarian fraternity, in meetings.
Deep inside, she fumes;’ why would I have to put my work on the line for ‘these people’? Last night, she watched the news on the BBC. She saw the burning of effigies of world ‘leaders’ and of her country’s flag. By a crowd of overzealous ‘ignorant’ Muslim ‘fanatics’. They were, protesting over the ‘Danish’ cartoons’, depicting Prophet Mohamed as a ‘terrorist’.
She hates all ‘intolerant rabbles’ that are hell-bent on destroying the ‘liberal’ democracies of the ‘heaven’ continents. She is a staunch ‘defender’ of the ‘freedom of speech’. But few yeas back, she was against the release from jail of the British holocaust denier, David Irving. There is no double-standard or hypocrisy here. The two issues are ‘distinctively different’. To her.
Ms Ingeborg knows the ‘people’ she is supposed to feed in Ogaden, are not different; than the ‘rowdy’ Moroccans ‘wrecking havoc’ all over Scandinavia. Or the ‘terrorists’ elsewhere.
WFP field monitor Abshir reported that food aid is being used by the Ethiopian army as a weapon of war. That statement desiccated what was left of her little ‘patience’. Not only did she tell him ‘it is not your business’, but she warned him ‘to watch his words’. She never went out to the field to assess and see for herself, but why would she? The trusted Shimelis won’t ‘lie’ to her. And he told her, the army is the most ‘reliable’ deliverer and distributor of food.
Far away, in the village of Gasangas, Lieutenant Takle was tired. He just finished a gruelling three hour supervision of the food distributions. Of the total five hundred quintals that arrived, fifty were given to the ‘community’. The names of the recipients were supplied by the district administrator. Takle approved the list after ensuring that a) they are not supporters of ‘anti-peace elements’ b) they fought the rebels recently.
Hence, when Basra-a destitute mother of three, angrily demanded food, she ‘crossed the red line’. Takle ordered her arrest. She was taken to the army camp. Few days later, the district head informed Takle, that he sold the rest of the food. They shared the ‘loot’.
Ingeborg recalls the firm direction she got from her boss in Addis Ababa: ‘work with the government’. Abshir never understands what that is supposed to mean. But for Ingeborg, it is not in her; to indulge in ‘elaborate definitions’. She took it literally.
Yet, just for curiosity, she asked her boss, ‘what modalities do we have in place at Addis Ababa level to ensure the government trusts us?’ she heard his reply; ‘we have agreed to hire four of their intelligence people as WFP staff.’ Ex-combatant Shimelis owes his job to that decision.
Her boss, Mr. Hamad el-Nur, knows what is going on with the food sent to Ogaden. He also knows that speaking out, would result in his immediate expulsion from the country. He is not happy with what is happening to his ‘Somali shaqiiq’s (brothers)’. But, first things first; his job is more important.
When he met Ato Simon Machale of the Disaster Prevention and Preparedness Agency, Mr Hamad was told to keep up the good work. Ato Simon said, ‘we are pleased with the conduct of the humanitarian operations in Ogaden. Many thanks to you, for the exemplary professionalism your organisation displayed’.
Ingeborg is already thinking of moving on to ‘new challenges’. That is what she told a friend over a dinner sometime ago. ‘My time here, in Somali region, was intriguing and enchanting’ she says. Adding, ‘I have no regrets.’
‘How ironic!’ Abshir says. Under her watch, the WFP in Jigjiga has gained reputation for compromising on its mandates, and collaborating in the ‘food warfare’ of the government; he thinks. He knows, lately, some locals made adaptations to the ‘We feed People’ motto of his office. They say it stands for ‘We Fight People’-with food, of course!
He derisively admits; ‘one ‘good’ legacy of Ms Ingeborg is that all ‘ludicrous distractions’ from work is stopped’. For instance, the early departure of local staffs for ‘Friday prayers’!
The following note was on Abshir’s diary. ‘In my entire life, I haven’t witnessed such an abominable dereliction of duty and profanation of the dignity of WFP’s lofty ideals. When the war is finally over, and the dust settles, the criminal ‘failure’ of WFP to assist needy population in Ogaden, will fill history books.’
The part about ‘history books’ is not his words. It is what the father of a malnourished boy, told him in Fik.
Shemelis was employed by the World Food Program -Jigjiga, three months ago. He is an ex-fighter of the Tigray People’s Liberation Front. She passed the field report submitted by the balding Abshir to the captain. ‘Please go over it and look for inconsistencies or inflammatory remarks’ she told him. She was not finished; ‘when you are done with it, I will disseminate to our partners’.
A little earlier, she shook her head in disgust, as she read few lines from Abshir’s report. ‘The food security situation of the region is worsening. Nearly one million people are facing acute food shortages. Twice that number is in dire need of water.’ The report said.
It was a scathing field report. ‘Food is neither delivered to distribution sites, nor distributed to the intended beneficiaries. In most districts, it is hoarded in army stores. And it is the army commanders who decide who gets it.’ Although this is a flagrant violation of the UN’s core humanitarian principles, Ms. Ingeborg was unfazed. ‘After all, who else is in a position to deliver the food?’ She openly tells the humanitarian fraternity, in meetings.
Deep inside, she fumes;’ why would I have to put my work on the line for ‘these people’? Last night, she watched the news on the BBC. She saw the burning of effigies of world ‘leaders’ and of her country’s flag. By a crowd of overzealous ‘ignorant’ Muslim ‘fanatics’. They were, protesting over the ‘Danish’ cartoons’, depicting Prophet Mohamed as a ‘terrorist’.
She hates all ‘intolerant rabbles’ that are hell-bent on destroying the ‘liberal’ democracies of the ‘heaven’ continents. She is a staunch ‘defender’ of the ‘freedom of speech’. But few yeas back, she was against the release from jail of the British holocaust denier, David Irving. There is no double-standard or hypocrisy here. The two issues are ‘distinctively different’. To her.
Ms Ingeborg knows the ‘people’ she is supposed to feed in Ogaden, are not different; than the ‘rowdy’ Moroccans ‘wrecking havoc’ all over Scandinavia. Or the ‘terrorists’ elsewhere.
WFP field monitor Abshir reported that food aid is being used by the Ethiopian army as a weapon of war. That statement desiccated what was left of her little ‘patience’. Not only did she tell him ‘it is not your business’, but she warned him ‘to watch his words’. She never went out to the field to assess and see for herself, but why would she? The trusted Shimelis won’t ‘lie’ to her. And he told her, the army is the most ‘reliable’ deliverer and distributor of food.
Far away, in the village of Gasangas, Lieutenant Takle was tired. He just finished a gruelling three hour supervision of the food distributions. Of the total five hundred quintals that arrived, fifty were given to the ‘community’. The names of the recipients were supplied by the district administrator. Takle approved the list after ensuring that a) they are not supporters of ‘anti-peace elements’ b) they fought the rebels recently.
Hence, when Basra-a destitute mother of three, angrily demanded food, she ‘crossed the red line’. Takle ordered her arrest. She was taken to the army camp. Few days later, the district head informed Takle, that he sold the rest of the food. They shared the ‘loot’.
Ingeborg recalls the firm direction she got from her boss in Addis Ababa: ‘work with the government’. Abshir never understands what that is supposed to mean. But for Ingeborg, it is not in her; to indulge in ‘elaborate definitions’. She took it literally.
Yet, just for curiosity, she asked her boss, ‘what modalities do we have in place at Addis Ababa level to ensure the government trusts us?’ she heard his reply; ‘we have agreed to hire four of their intelligence people as WFP staff.’ Ex-combatant Shimelis owes his job to that decision.
Her boss, Mr. Hamad el-Nur, knows what is going on with the food sent to Ogaden. He also knows that speaking out, would result in his immediate expulsion from the country. He is not happy with what is happening to his ‘Somali shaqiiq’s (brothers)’. But, first things first; his job is more important.
When he met Ato Simon Machale of the Disaster Prevention and Preparedness Agency, Mr Hamad was told to keep up the good work. Ato Simon said, ‘we are pleased with the conduct of the humanitarian operations in Ogaden. Many thanks to you, for the exemplary professionalism your organisation displayed’.
Ingeborg is already thinking of moving on to ‘new challenges’. That is what she told a friend over a dinner sometime ago. ‘My time here, in Somali region, was intriguing and enchanting’ she says. Adding, ‘I have no regrets.’
‘How ironic!’ Abshir says. Under her watch, the WFP in Jigjiga has gained reputation for compromising on its mandates, and collaborating in the ‘food warfare’ of the government; he thinks. He knows, lately, some locals made adaptations to the ‘We feed People’ motto of his office. They say it stands for ‘We Fight People’-with food, of course!
He derisively admits; ‘one ‘good’ legacy of Ms Ingeborg is that all ‘ludicrous distractions’ from work is stopped’. For instance, the early departure of local staffs for ‘Friday prayers’!
The following note was on Abshir’s diary. ‘In my entire life, I haven’t witnessed such an abominable dereliction of duty and profanation of the dignity of WFP’s lofty ideals. When the war is finally over, and the dust settles, the criminal ‘failure’ of WFP to assist needy population in Ogaden, will fill history books.’
The part about ‘history books’ is not his words. It is what the father of a malnourished boy, told him in Fik.
Friday, March 7, 2008
Kenya: The nature of things to come
The dice has been cast; Kenyan's have burried the hatchet; bloodspilling has for now subsided after grueling weeks of chaos and tribal conflict which according to conflicting government sources and media outlets left hundreds of thousands internally displaced and thousands dead; it seems for now peace has finally returned to every town, village, and dwelling in a land of over forty tribes and languages.
After much deliberations and the involvement of international mediation heavyweights including the likes of Graca Machel (wife of Nelson Mandela), Kofi Anan (former UN Secretary General), Benjamin Mkapa (Former President of Tanzania), John Kufuor (Current President of Ghana), Bishop Desmond Tutu (head of the South African Anglican church and Nobel leaureate), Cyril Ramaphosa (South African businees tycoon)and a host of others.
The final verdict will be hammered out after the unanimous proclamation of a power sharing deal when Kenya's parliament convenes, debates, and enacts a new law that will open a new chapter for the creation of the post of Prime Minister for Raila Amolo Odinga, head of the opposition Orange democratic movement (ODM), the man who was blatantly and barefacedly robbed of the Presidency in the December 2007 general elections.
Peace loving Kenyans will no longer listen to the neauseating remarks of John Michuki and his ilk. The arbitrary arrest of innocent Wanainchi (citizens) without judicial application is for now something of the past. Kenyans must never accept to be dictated by 'bootlickers', 'briefcase carriers', henchmen, and power usurpers who play the roles of misguided Dick, Tom, and Harry. They must be on guard and courageously confront Cops who demand TKK (Toa Kitu Kidogo-a form of bribery regardless of amount) and Chai (tea). Police officers must demand decent wages from the government and not rob the citizens they are supposed to protect. The lost dignity of 'Utumishi Kwa Wote' (Service for all) must be restored.
Kenya's party altercations spread like wildfire into the fabric of a poor tribal society after the adulteration of the Presidential elections by the Party of National Unity (PNU) headed by the man who was behind the election irregularities, President Mwai Kibaki, who according to the BBC 'sanctioned' the clashes in a well orchestrated sabotageous plan in defense of his majority Kikuyu against the rest of Kenyans by providing them with machettes, rungus, simis, pangas, and other dangerous crude weapons while deliberately mobilizing state machinery to his detriment.
Anyone familiar with the 'Kiambuu Mafia' or the "Mount Kenya Mafia" concubinage with the malodorously unrestrained condottiere Mungiki and its dedication to tribal hegemony since the days of the Mau Mau will understand why land issue has been the driving force behind every turmoil and political wrangglings since the 60s regardless of the nation's leadership funambulism. Mungiki had been an unrestrainable illegal sect under President Moi's rule only to fully and gracefully reemerge in a decorated fashion when Mwai Kibaki took power.
Every effort must made to block "Mount Kenya Mafia" from major government positions. Those suspected to have been party to incitement to violence must be apprehended and made to face the full force of the law. Mungiki must be disbanded and crashed mercilessly until it becomes nonexistent. Incitement to violence must be dealt with severely. Religious freedom must be left to flourish at will.
Every province must have its own college and university. Decentralization of power should receive prominence in the constitution. Kenyans must be saved the burden of travelling to Nairobi for passports. Every province must be allowed to generate enough revenue to run its own affairs and must be allocated enough fiscal budget to fulfill the long cherished dream of equal education, health, industry, and services that are vital to a vibrant economy.
Provincial Commissioners, District Commissioners, District Officers, and Chiefs must be eliminated and be replaced with modern democratic institutions of governance compatible with the demands of the people through referundums. Every conceivable colonial legacy in place must be abolished. Kenyans must be given the right to debate and choose local governments of their liking.
Anyone who has never heard the name 'Mungiki'-a name that had been a curse and cancer in Kenya's political stability since the days of Moi, needs to give an attentive ear. 'Mungiki' has been a clog in the eye of every progress because these rebel group had the backing of top fishes in the government from day one of its formation. These apathetic savage foundation with inhuman credentials desired to drive Kenya into the underworld of drugs, criminality, and prostitution while hiding under the shadow of biblical narratives. Though claiming to have a million members, these hoodlums, were no more than a bunch of dirty jailbirds struggling for a space in government where they could achieve filthy objectives.
Its leader, Mohamed Waruinge, is a Kikuyu who claims to profess the Islamic faith despite being regarded a renegade by a cotterie of Muslim Ulema who saw see his modus operandi contrary to the divine teachings of the Glorious Qur'an.
Mungiki has enjoyed tremendous coverage in the Kenya press despite constituting an army of functionally illiterates whose allegiance is not to the constitution of the Republic of Kenya but rather embodies grossly exaggerated mythically ancestralized inclinations of ancient ways of worship not consistent with modernity and religious tolerance. They pledge loyalty not to the President of Kenya but instead to self- fashioned and amplified wavelengths attracted to the sciences of reggae ragamuffins with parochial attitudes, puffing of marijuana, sniffing of tobacco, and wearing of dreadlocks-a common identity among its followers-men and women who have renounced the rule of law. One unanimous agreement among Mungiki adherents is the forceful circumcision of women. They desire to see Kenya remain a Kikuyu hierarchy forever.
Raila Odinga is being touted to become the next PM; the second such post since attainment of independence; a post first held by his father, the late Jaramogi Odinga Oginga, who, according to the nation's recorded history, fell off with Kenya's first President, Jomo Kenyatta, a Kikuyu tribalsit who ensured cenral power remained in the hands of the children of Gikuyu and Mumbi under the tutelage of the wicked 'Kiambuu mafia'-a powerful lobby group of three tribes related in blood, language, and customs and commonly identified as Gikuyu (Kikuyu), Embu, and Meru Association or GEMA.
Currently, there is much debate about the elimination of the post of Vice-President occupied by Kalonzo Musyoka of the Orange Denocratic Movement of Kenya (ODM-K)-the party that split from the Orange Democratic Movement of Raila Odinga during the runner up to the Presidential elections. Kalonzo Musyoka, a Kamba, claimed to make miracles-miracles not meant to win him the Presidency-but one aimed at forging alliances with Mwai Kibaki's Party of National Unity or PNU-so he could have a firm hold on to the Vice Presidency-a reprovably prearranged dastardly act with predatory qualities widely common among vainglorious political rejects lacking confidence and self-esteem.
Consequently, the elimination of the post of Vice President will will lead to the establishment of the position of Vice Premier-a tough assignment for bitter rivals who have just smoothered a raging inferno at the eleventh hour after almost forty five days of bloodletting. Regardless of who becomes the Vice Premier, Kenyans wish to see their nation return to normalcy as soon as possible so that they may live in peace and harmony as usual.
Though I hate to promulgate what the future holds, again, from what I have written in the past about Kenya's future, it seems definite and behooves us to reconsider, a prognostication with a hit on the bull's eye, because, if we closely follow the proceedings and final recommendations of the exclusively selected eminent members, we will come to the conclusion that Raila Amolo Odinga is for now assured the much-awaited Premiership role and in the nick of time will climb the helm without the least hesitation while Mwai Kibaki, the man who was hurriedly sworn in as President after 'stealing' the 2007 December elections in a well orchestrated manner, will serve the Republic of Kenya until the end of his term in 2012, as a powerless ceremonial President.
Power sharing which will be debated by Kenya's roudy parliament is a hard nut to crack. Ministers, Assistant-Ministers, and heads of parastatals will have to be determined by the Kenya legislature and not by the President as had been during the one-party era rule. That means, voiceless Kenyans, especially Muslims and minority tribes who had been ostracized for a long time without legal representations, will, if justice is left to steer its right cause, enjoy the fruits that had been forbidden to them for forty seven years.
Muslims will no longer be required to produce obsolete documents when applying for passports and ID Cards; there will be accountability and equal share of education, equal share of employment, equal housing opportunity, budgetary and financial control, and the concept of categorizing Muslims as terrorists will have to be abandoned if the law is to fully apply to all citizens of the land without regard to discriminatory practices. Promotion must be based on merit and educational background and not on tribal affiliations and preferential treatments.
The application of healthy debates and referundums must be the best applicable tool to advancing national concesus on issues pertaining to Sheria and family inheritance laws, regionalism and federalism, and a plethora of issues that had been swept under the carpet during past regimes' inhuman practices.
Kenyans will demand the revival of the 1984 Wagalla Massacre, the murders of Dr. Robert Ouko, Tom Mboya, and JM Kariuki, the Ng'oroko menace and the deliberate burning of Garissa. It will primarily be the responsibility of the Republic of Kenya to fully investigate all cases brought forthwith before the courts by grieving parties and their legal representations and grant undeterred access to government archives and files without obstruction of justice and ensure payments where applicable without any minor or major hindrances.
Despite putting up a bitter fight, the Orange Democratic Movement (ODM), under the leadership of Honorable Prime Minister-elect Raila Amolo Odinga, has shown the world that what started in Eastern Europe as an Orange revolution, is, if fully implemented, despite the cost to life and property, a risk worth venturing for the good of humanity.
Having fought the better part of the war, Kenya's infant government of national unity will have to take extra steps to eradicate endemic corruption perfected by previous administrations that preceeded it. One other thing to note is that this current government is propelled by two wings of opposing views, engineering, and design. One wing-inherited from past regimes and old guards-is diseased, decaying, and rudderless with no hope of remedy while the other wing is new, untarnished, and ready to accept change.
It requires men and women of the strongest will and dedicated conviction to steer a divided nation back to its right course. The forty five plus days of civil disobedience Kenya went through must not be perceived as solvable in a matter of months or even years because reconciliation efforts among humans as witnessed since ancient times require knowlegeable non-partisan commission of inquiry members with delicate strategies meant to peruse, expunge, and extricate the major causes of the conflict before an everlasting all encompassing remedial solutions can be secured for future generations to enjoy without much interruptions.
The right man who can steer Kenya to her rightful place in the international arena today is Raila Odinga because he is a man who suffered at the hands of Kenya's past hydra-headed heinous administrations in his pursuit of equality and justice. In his youth, he saw his father humiliated by Jomo Kenyatta-the very man his dad, Jaramogi Odinga, supported tooth and nail in the struggle for independence; under President Moi, Raila remained a jailbird shuttling cockroach-infested Kamiti, Shimo La Tewa, and Kodiaga prisons. Having helped Kibaki oust Moi through the introduction of multi-party democracy, Kibaki, rather than displaying Biblical grace and Abrahamic wisdom, chose to play the tribal card that lead to the political Tsunami that left Kenya a laughing stork among her global admirers and an almost 'failed state'. Had Raila not displayed flexibility in the negotiation efforts, Kenya, under the absolute leadership of Kibaki, would by now be at the mercy of warlords and that entire landlocked countries in East and Central Africa would intermittently follow suit, trigger the worst humanitarian disaster in history, and usher in genocide that would shake human resolve for many years to come.
As we look forward into the nature of things to come in this part of Africa and as Kenya picks up the pieces, what is worth watching is how politics shapes a divided house occupied by two men of differing political views: Raila who is guided by untapped political talent ready for useful application and an inconsolably penurious Kibaki determined to release a penumbra of rebellious tribal mobocracy.
After much deliberations and the involvement of international mediation heavyweights including the likes of Graca Machel (wife of Nelson Mandela), Kofi Anan (former UN Secretary General), Benjamin Mkapa (Former President of Tanzania), John Kufuor (Current President of Ghana), Bishop Desmond Tutu (head of the South African Anglican church and Nobel leaureate), Cyril Ramaphosa (South African businees tycoon)and a host of others.
The final verdict will be hammered out after the unanimous proclamation of a power sharing deal when Kenya's parliament convenes, debates, and enacts a new law that will open a new chapter for the creation of the post of Prime Minister for Raila Amolo Odinga, head of the opposition Orange democratic movement (ODM), the man who was blatantly and barefacedly robbed of the Presidency in the December 2007 general elections.
Peace loving Kenyans will no longer listen to the neauseating remarks of John Michuki and his ilk. The arbitrary arrest of innocent Wanainchi (citizens) without judicial application is for now something of the past. Kenyans must never accept to be dictated by 'bootlickers', 'briefcase carriers', henchmen, and power usurpers who play the roles of misguided Dick, Tom, and Harry. They must be on guard and courageously confront Cops who demand TKK (Toa Kitu Kidogo-a form of bribery regardless of amount) and Chai (tea). Police officers must demand decent wages from the government and not rob the citizens they are supposed to protect. The lost dignity of 'Utumishi Kwa Wote' (Service for all) must be restored.
Kenya's party altercations spread like wildfire into the fabric of a poor tribal society after the adulteration of the Presidential elections by the Party of National Unity (PNU) headed by the man who was behind the election irregularities, President Mwai Kibaki, who according to the BBC 'sanctioned' the clashes in a well orchestrated sabotageous plan in defense of his majority Kikuyu against the rest of Kenyans by providing them with machettes, rungus, simis, pangas, and other dangerous crude weapons while deliberately mobilizing state machinery to his detriment.
Anyone familiar with the 'Kiambuu Mafia' or the "Mount Kenya Mafia" concubinage with the malodorously unrestrained condottiere Mungiki and its dedication to tribal hegemony since the days of the Mau Mau will understand why land issue has been the driving force behind every turmoil and political wrangglings since the 60s regardless of the nation's leadership funambulism. Mungiki had been an unrestrainable illegal sect under President Moi's rule only to fully and gracefully reemerge in a decorated fashion when Mwai Kibaki took power.
Every effort must made to block "Mount Kenya Mafia" from major government positions. Those suspected to have been party to incitement to violence must be apprehended and made to face the full force of the law. Mungiki must be disbanded and crashed mercilessly until it becomes nonexistent. Incitement to violence must be dealt with severely. Religious freedom must be left to flourish at will.
Every province must have its own college and university. Decentralization of power should receive prominence in the constitution. Kenyans must be saved the burden of travelling to Nairobi for passports. Every province must be allowed to generate enough revenue to run its own affairs and must be allocated enough fiscal budget to fulfill the long cherished dream of equal education, health, industry, and services that are vital to a vibrant economy.
Provincial Commissioners, District Commissioners, District Officers, and Chiefs must be eliminated and be replaced with modern democratic institutions of governance compatible with the demands of the people through referundums. Every conceivable colonial legacy in place must be abolished. Kenyans must be given the right to debate and choose local governments of their liking.
Anyone who has never heard the name 'Mungiki'-a name that had been a curse and cancer in Kenya's political stability since the days of Moi, needs to give an attentive ear. 'Mungiki' has been a clog in the eye of every progress because these rebel group had the backing of top fishes in the government from day one of its formation. These apathetic savage foundation with inhuman credentials desired to drive Kenya into the underworld of drugs, criminality, and prostitution while hiding under the shadow of biblical narratives. Though claiming to have a million members, these hoodlums, were no more than a bunch of dirty jailbirds struggling for a space in government where they could achieve filthy objectives.
Its leader, Mohamed Waruinge, is a Kikuyu who claims to profess the Islamic faith despite being regarded a renegade by a cotterie of Muslim Ulema who saw see his modus operandi contrary to the divine teachings of the Glorious Qur'an.
Mungiki has enjoyed tremendous coverage in the Kenya press despite constituting an army of functionally illiterates whose allegiance is not to the constitution of the Republic of Kenya but rather embodies grossly exaggerated mythically ancestralized inclinations of ancient ways of worship not consistent with modernity and religious tolerance. They pledge loyalty not to the President of Kenya but instead to self- fashioned and amplified wavelengths attracted to the sciences of reggae ragamuffins with parochial attitudes, puffing of marijuana, sniffing of tobacco, and wearing of dreadlocks-a common identity among its followers-men and women who have renounced the rule of law. One unanimous agreement among Mungiki adherents is the forceful circumcision of women. They desire to see Kenya remain a Kikuyu hierarchy forever.
Raila Odinga is being touted to become the next PM; the second such post since attainment of independence; a post first held by his father, the late Jaramogi Odinga Oginga, who, according to the nation's recorded history, fell off with Kenya's first President, Jomo Kenyatta, a Kikuyu tribalsit who ensured cenral power remained in the hands of the children of Gikuyu and Mumbi under the tutelage of the wicked 'Kiambuu mafia'-a powerful lobby group of three tribes related in blood, language, and customs and commonly identified as Gikuyu (Kikuyu), Embu, and Meru Association or GEMA.
Currently, there is much debate about the elimination of the post of Vice-President occupied by Kalonzo Musyoka of the Orange Denocratic Movement of Kenya (ODM-K)-the party that split from the Orange Democratic Movement of Raila Odinga during the runner up to the Presidential elections. Kalonzo Musyoka, a Kamba, claimed to make miracles-miracles not meant to win him the Presidency-but one aimed at forging alliances with Mwai Kibaki's Party of National Unity or PNU-so he could have a firm hold on to the Vice Presidency-a reprovably prearranged dastardly act with predatory qualities widely common among vainglorious political rejects lacking confidence and self-esteem.
Consequently, the elimination of the post of Vice President will will lead to the establishment of the position of Vice Premier-a tough assignment for bitter rivals who have just smoothered a raging inferno at the eleventh hour after almost forty five days of bloodletting. Regardless of who becomes the Vice Premier, Kenyans wish to see their nation return to normalcy as soon as possible so that they may live in peace and harmony as usual.
Though I hate to promulgate what the future holds, again, from what I have written in the past about Kenya's future, it seems definite and behooves us to reconsider, a prognostication with a hit on the bull's eye, because, if we closely follow the proceedings and final recommendations of the exclusively selected eminent members, we will come to the conclusion that Raila Amolo Odinga is for now assured the much-awaited Premiership role and in the nick of time will climb the helm without the least hesitation while Mwai Kibaki, the man who was hurriedly sworn in as President after 'stealing' the 2007 December elections in a well orchestrated manner, will serve the Republic of Kenya until the end of his term in 2012, as a powerless ceremonial President.
Power sharing which will be debated by Kenya's roudy parliament is a hard nut to crack. Ministers, Assistant-Ministers, and heads of parastatals will have to be determined by the Kenya legislature and not by the President as had been during the one-party era rule. That means, voiceless Kenyans, especially Muslims and minority tribes who had been ostracized for a long time without legal representations, will, if justice is left to steer its right cause, enjoy the fruits that had been forbidden to them for forty seven years.
Muslims will no longer be required to produce obsolete documents when applying for passports and ID Cards; there will be accountability and equal share of education, equal share of employment, equal housing opportunity, budgetary and financial control, and the concept of categorizing Muslims as terrorists will have to be abandoned if the law is to fully apply to all citizens of the land without regard to discriminatory practices. Promotion must be based on merit and educational background and not on tribal affiliations and preferential treatments.
The application of healthy debates and referundums must be the best applicable tool to advancing national concesus on issues pertaining to Sheria and family inheritance laws, regionalism and federalism, and a plethora of issues that had been swept under the carpet during past regimes' inhuman practices.
Kenyans will demand the revival of the 1984 Wagalla Massacre, the murders of Dr. Robert Ouko, Tom Mboya, and JM Kariuki, the Ng'oroko menace and the deliberate burning of Garissa. It will primarily be the responsibility of the Republic of Kenya to fully investigate all cases brought forthwith before the courts by grieving parties and their legal representations and grant undeterred access to government archives and files without obstruction of justice and ensure payments where applicable without any minor or major hindrances.
Despite putting up a bitter fight, the Orange Democratic Movement (ODM), under the leadership of Honorable Prime Minister-elect Raila Amolo Odinga, has shown the world that what started in Eastern Europe as an Orange revolution, is, if fully implemented, despite the cost to life and property, a risk worth venturing for the good of humanity.
Having fought the better part of the war, Kenya's infant government of national unity will have to take extra steps to eradicate endemic corruption perfected by previous administrations that preceeded it. One other thing to note is that this current government is propelled by two wings of opposing views, engineering, and design. One wing-inherited from past regimes and old guards-is diseased, decaying, and rudderless with no hope of remedy while the other wing is new, untarnished, and ready to accept change.
It requires men and women of the strongest will and dedicated conviction to steer a divided nation back to its right course. The forty five plus days of civil disobedience Kenya went through must not be perceived as solvable in a matter of months or even years because reconciliation efforts among humans as witnessed since ancient times require knowlegeable non-partisan commission of inquiry members with delicate strategies meant to peruse, expunge, and extricate the major causes of the conflict before an everlasting all encompassing remedial solutions can be secured for future generations to enjoy without much interruptions.
The right man who can steer Kenya to her rightful place in the international arena today is Raila Odinga because he is a man who suffered at the hands of Kenya's past hydra-headed heinous administrations in his pursuit of equality and justice. In his youth, he saw his father humiliated by Jomo Kenyatta-the very man his dad, Jaramogi Odinga, supported tooth and nail in the struggle for independence; under President Moi, Raila remained a jailbird shuttling cockroach-infested Kamiti, Shimo La Tewa, and Kodiaga prisons. Having helped Kibaki oust Moi through the introduction of multi-party democracy, Kibaki, rather than displaying Biblical grace and Abrahamic wisdom, chose to play the tribal card that lead to the political Tsunami that left Kenya a laughing stork among her global admirers and an almost 'failed state'. Had Raila not displayed flexibility in the negotiation efforts, Kenya, under the absolute leadership of Kibaki, would by now be at the mercy of warlords and that entire landlocked countries in East and Central Africa would intermittently follow suit, trigger the worst humanitarian disaster in history, and usher in genocide that would shake human resolve for many years to come.
As we look forward into the nature of things to come in this part of Africa and as Kenya picks up the pieces, what is worth watching is how politics shapes a divided house occupied by two men of differing political views: Raila who is guided by untapped political talent ready for useful application and an inconsolably penurious Kibaki determined to release a penumbra of rebellious tribal mobocracy.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
MEMOIRES OF A FATAL HOLIDAY
‘She looked up to the sky
And wished to be with her children
…then remembering her last child
Gazed desperately into the horizon
And shouted a piercing sentence
Stop killing our children!
Stop killing our children!!!’
Laila Yaghi, river of tears
Although Sheekh Maxamuud was mindful of the ferocity of the fury his verdict would entail amongst the faithful, he had no option but to announce the Ciid festivities for tomorrow. That he often digs into all ‘loopholes’ in the Holy Scriptures to shorten the holly month of Ramadan by an average of two to three days each year; has nothing to do with his chronic ulcers-contrary to the falsehood the young irresponsible Xerow spread.
Or so he wishes to believe. After all, why does he have to give a damn about the fabrications of the neophyte Xerow, who was upset because he felt his ‘mu’addin’ title, has gone to a relative of the Sheekh. Livid over this, he started the gossip that the Sheekh feigned illness in the first two days of the Ramadan; so that he is not told of the news of the entry of the holy month.
This maverick xerow hasn’t quite attained the reaches of Erasmus’s ridicules and mocks against theologians in the praise of folly, but has all the marks of a ‘rebel’ in the making. Sheekh Maxamuud was fully aware of it, but was also confident he has solid religious grounds to declare tomorrow-Thursday, Ciid el-Fidri. After all, he has a living witness.
Badal Garawle is a short, stout, and kind of dumpy looking man. God has not been gracious to him in good looks, humour or some other exceptional talent. That embitters him as he hardly finds his name in the domain of any sort of discussions in this small town in the Hawd. But the last two years were exceptionally good to him. Rather, he was good to himself. Last year, it was him who spotted the crescent, bishii, and was the sole eyewitness in the entire town. In every corner, people happily exchanged compliments of the Eid, blessing Badal.
As early as three decades ago, Osman Gacanlaw understood human vanity and his inherent penchant for attention; as is evident in his inspirational song: Inaan ahey nin mudan oo kara wixii uu maagaba,waa inuu magaaladda magacaygu gaadhaa. It is this proclivity for self-importance that catapults the desire in us to ‘be noticed’. Ambition follows; and like appetite for food, attention-seeking varies in degree among humans. Nonetheless, it is invariably emblematic of humans.
That night, a repeat of the rare moment of ‘grandeur’ and ‘acknowledgement’ was on Badal’s mind; when he tumbled forth to the stage next to the Imam in the Cisha prayers and swore that he has seen bishii again. Of course, both years, he would have been the last person to see it; even if a three-night moon was on a clear sky. He has a very bad sight. But who among them would not have lied to get a glimpse of attention, after years of seclusion and obscurity! He reasoned, as he shook off the tinge of guilt he felt inside for lying to the devout community.
All the doubts, shouts, and recriminations that followed Sheekh Maxamuud’s edict; all the threats against Badal and insults hurled at him; and all the protest angry mobs took to his uncle- wiilkan aad adderka u tahay maad umadda ka qabatid; were to no avail, in the end. Badal knew this was a passing annoyance. No other country has seen the moon; but the Sheikh was adamant: ‘inagga aragtina ku sooma, agagtina ku afura ayaa la ina yidhi.”
Several hours later as the day break; all the tea houses played Ciid songs from loud speakers hooked to their windows. Xassen Diriye has always been the favorite in this small town for such occasions.
“Maanta Cadar iyo aynu maaweel
Isku maydhnoo Mushmushaaxnee
Maalinta weyn yaan la moogaan…”
Ciid revelers cheered and chanted to the song. As Badal strode to the prayers that morning, all the old women who saw him on his way waved their hands to him in appreciation. Shariifo Barni believes god has endowed this man with supernatural gift. Sidaa unbaa loogu daalici bisha ramadaan, bal ilaahay amrkii she commented to the others with her. Saakin was full of disdain for his critics. Intaasaa loo quudhi la’yahay, oo rag magac sheegani meelahaa kaga caayaan baa layidhi. Eedo Koraad was surprised: alla dadku isu daranaa, cajaa’iib! waa aakhri sabaan, she said. The oldest women in the marching crowd knew why all this is happening to the poor man: tol buuna la heyn!
In the mud house of Amran, the jubilation was for one more reason. It was at the dawn of the same day that she finally delivered a health baby girl, after long hours of labouring. Nimco was born in a day of feast and happiness. Amran mulled adding iiddo as a suffix to the child’s name. Nimco’s father, Kaafi dheere, has not yet come to the house, after he spent last night with friends. He stayed in friend’s house, as midwives and women relatives occupied his house, to attend to his wife. In the morning, he went straight to Ciid prayers; and planned to buy drinks and clothes to the new-born baby later. He was told it was a girl.
Until now, Kaafi who is a lame man has escaped the suspicion of the Ethiopian military. However, the killing of six senior Ethiopian army intelligence officers last night in front of the plot of land where he sells imported second-hand clothes, by unidentified gunmen, muddied the waters.
A week ago, when two soldiers were ambushed and killed near the main motorized well in the center of the town, the army responded by heading straight to the house of the district chairman Cumar Dahir; and put ten bullets in his skull in front of his children. They later justified their actions in the joint security meeting with the ‘civilian’ administrators; stating they had ‘evidence’ of his involvement in the ambush. No one dared to question their ‘evidences’.
It is still unbelievable how Kaafi hadn’t heard of what virtually everyone in town knew about. That the army commander- first Lieutenant Abraha mentioned his name in a meeting; as the ‘number one’ conduit and supplier of information to the rebels. Almost everyone in town who heard of this news rushed to warn him.
The first was his elder brother, who as they finished the prayers whispered to him, “ha iga tagin intaan sunaysanayo, hawl baan kula socodsiinee”. But Kaafi Dheere completely forgot this message as he limped off hurriedly to the main market to get supplies to the new mother and her baby. When his brother was done with prayers, and saw that he is not around, he dashed to the only market where he knew he will find him.
Thirteen years later, when her uncle met the beautiful but sick Nimco-who was brought by her mother to his house so that he takes her to a proper Hospital, he saw the hollow in her eyes; created by the missed love of a lost father. Her mother had grown inexplicably old and was almost unrecognizable to him at first. While waiting for the result of Nimco’s chest x-ray, the nurse’s rather innocuous but silly question flashed back memories of her husband. ‘How many kilos did she weigh at birth?’ The nurse asked. Amran stared at her for a long period, consumed by a sweet reverie.
She was thinking about her first night with Kaafi. She always sheds tears in hilarious laughter when she recollects those tense moments. After the ceremony ended and everybody left, in that tiny room, she lowered the lantern and sat next to him. Thirsty and having waited for this prize for too long, he lunged forward onto her chest. She took his hands calmly, caressed a bit and rubbed his chest. Disregarding the disbelief in his eyes, she gently kissed his lips and cheeks. Unable to muster enough composure to utter a word- but disconcerted inside-he took her hands aside and went ahead with his rehearsed move.
It was only after he was relieved of his ‘passion’ that he asked; “waa maxay faraha, iyo carrabka iyo waxan aad is horwadaa? Had it not been for the virginity he had ascertained beyond reasonable doubt, their marriage would have ended the same way it has started: fast. Mar haduu amaanku sugan yahay, waa caadi. That realization gave him the faith to respect his bride.
The next two nights she stopped making any foreplay to their love-making-aware of the harsh chide she received earlier. How dare she can! Admittedly, the last two nights were not as enjoyable as the ‘indecent’ first one, for Kaafi too. Yet, he was too conceited to raise this subject again. But, something interesting happened on the third night.
When she invitingly threw herself onto the mattress, he remained seated and said; “een, maxay aheyd, Amran. We are grown up people. An impregnable wall of confidentiality is mandatory for our marriage to succeed. Imika, hawshii iyada aheyd-tii habeenkii u horeysay- take it up from where you left off. Af-keenunna waa isu amaan. Since then, long romantic pushes and gentle ‘whips’ was an integral precursor of their sleep. What a time they had after that nervy start!
Amran grew up in Mogadishu, where her family fled to after the 1977 Ethio-Somali war. It is there where she completed her secondary school. Kaafi, in contrast was a dynamic student in jijiga secondary school until the final year of his schooling. He was readying himself to write the national school leaving examination-and was hopeful of an excellent result-when his father succumbed to the cholera that broke out in his home town. His late father’s words ringed in his ears. Adiga unbaa kugu haleeyay reerkaas. His eight younger siblings have no one except him to support. That compelled him to start small business-selling second hand cloths, to raise them.
Their love story was love at first sight. And after few weeks of epistolary love exchanges, both were confident enough to go for the sacred destiny. Amran was impressed with the intellect, humility and dutifulness of her man. He was sure of her decency and faithfulness. That is why he had been taken aback by that ‘imprudent’ initiative of her on the first night.
By the time, Amran woke of her lapse of concentration and queried “maxaad I tidhi?” the nurse was gone.
First lieutenant Abraha, the commander of the army, was in no mood for mercy or consideration. If they had to celebrate their ‘silly Ciid’, it is not my business, he thought. Indeed, if he has to teach them a lesson -on how hard losing a comrade is, it couldn’t have come at a better time. Last night as he oversaw the burial ceremony for the fallen Tigrayan compatriots, his heart bled. Someone will have to pay dearly! He is not a judge or a priest to take the time to ensure who is innocent or guilty! He is a soldier. And, a ‘fine’ one for that!
He addressed the over two-hundred men, sitting under the sun in garoonka, a big place for Ciid prayers. These men were the last ones leaving the scene, having done their Salaad; when they were surrounded by three land cruiser pick-up cars full of soldiers. Stay put where you are; one soldier ordered-before Abraha majestically jumped out of the cabin of one of the cars. He made a speech.
“Listen! Ye sumale shimagilewooch (Somali elders!). Last night six of our bravest fighters -flag-bearers- of the “generation that rocked mountains”, who played pivotal role in defeating the ‘cannibal’ Derg army, were killed by your sons. I don’t care if they are called URLF, or GST, or Altaxaad or Al-mubaarakat! I am in no mood to indulge in etymology of weird acronyms and Arabic nouns. They are all Somali’s. You know them and you supply information, money and moral support to them. Now, I give you an ultimatum: produce the killers right here, or no one is walking from this sun alive.”
He was not finished. “When one of your own is killed by another, you find out and take revenge or settle the issue through reparations. When one of our men is killed, all of a sudden you play deaf and dumb. That is not going to work anymore.”
After sitting in the sun for nearly three hours -with Abraha taking shade under one of the vehicles, one frail old man stood and spoke, trembling. ‘I think we have seen many governments before. We have also witnessed similar incidents. But this is the first time that, on a day of a mammoth meaning to us, we are forced to sit under the sun and confess ‘ crimes’ which a) we don’t know who did b) we haven’t done and c) even if we knew, we had no power to stop it.’
The old man was agitated. ‘Is this fair? What kind of justice is this? What kind of humans are you when you don’t respect men in their seventies and eighties who just concluded a tough holly month; and for your information haven’t eaten since this morning? It is already three pm and our children are waiting for us to share the ciid with them. Order your ‘intelligence’ to investigate and let us go to our homes.’
Kaafi dheere was lucky to have left earlier. He bought stuff to his wife and child; but decided to chat with revelers before lunch. He left the items he bought with the shop, telling him that he will collect sometime in the afternoon. He went straight to Cabdiwaaxid’s restaurant where camel meat was the day’s ‘special’ dish. Cabdiwaaxid is also his neighbour. He is in his early twenty’s; and the manager of the restaurant. The owner is his wife, Xalimo-naadis; who is older than him by about ten years. That age difference is the cause of some bitter disagreements at times.
Like, two months ago. They retuned from the wedding ceremony of Cabdiwaaxid’s elder brother who married a teenager. Amid the feast and exultation, Cabdiwaaxid was chanting loudly to all songs, obviously happy for his brother. But things took a nasty face when he and Xalimo returned home. No sooner had they entered into their house than she took a kettle from the compound and hit his head. He had to be stitched three times to stop the bleeding. He thinks he heard her angry words, seconds before he got the hit. “Yaad u duur xulaysay, when you were screeching wali waa carruurro waa laan curdun ahoo?”
Xaliimo thought he has done that deliberately to embarrass her in front of the crowd at the wedding. These kinds of misunderstandings are common in their home; but love is not in short supply, as well. Leona Lewis’s bleeding love, it is.
Cabdiwaaxid told him, about last night’s incident-which Kaafi already knew about; but not that some soldiers came to the restaurant half-an-hour ago looking for him. He thought they may have been looking for him to grab few jeans trousers from the latest consignment of hoodheyd he received; before it is opened for sale. They do that often.
Mo’alin Mowlid teaches Quraan to Amran and three other girls from the neighborhood. He loves one of them-Sacdiya buur. Perhaps that is why, more recently, he has been cherry-picking on his wacdi after the lessons. Favourite topics of the month before the Ramadan hovered more around couple’s intimate moments. Haa, xaasikiinu waa beertinna oo kale, so you can play with them in whichever way that pleases you, he said twice in a week. ‘Kolkay dumarku dhiiga leeyihiin, they are exempted from certain duties’, he reminded them several times. Subconsciously, he will utter these words, as a reaction to a growing sensual desire inside. He had decided to talk to Sacdiya about marriage sometime soon.
But, even Mo’alin Mowlid had not repeated his predictable lines on this Thursday afternoon. After he blessed the new born baby, and thanked Allah for the safe delivery of Amran, he unusually spoke about what is being talked about in town: That Kaafi will be arrested tonight. ‘Macalin, cashirka noo wad; dadka cisha walba waa la xidhaaye’, the girls told him one after another. He thought that they were missing that ‘erotic’ subject. ‘Alla dumarku inkaarana’, he chuckled. Of course, Amran was not there, but none of the girls wanted to spoil her day by spooking her with unverified rumors; when they visited her later.
And when they did tell her of what Mo’alin Mowlid told them-it was casually. “yuu ka maqlay” Amran asked, surprised that Mo’alin, uncharacteristically, was having ears for political rumors. “Yuu ka maqli lahaa? manaab baa lagu tusaye” the ladies kidded. Then they jumped the topic and started a new thread: “ina Abshir waa loo soo fadhiisanayaa baa la yidhi”. The discussion reached the point of evaluating the candidate: “He is a good working man, those who know him said; although a bit “old”.
Mo’alin Mowlid is a disciplined man with moral authority and he was held with high esteem by the community. The only day he felt abused was when one useless Jaadle (khat seller) tried to mock him; as Mo’alin was preparing taxaliil for a sick boy. The Jaadle stormed into the small compound, and on sight of the religious man; commented “oo manta macal maclinkii baa joogee” trying to be funny for the benefit of the ladies around. He then sang a line from Mohamed Moge’s timeless waxaan tagay shacbaankii.
“La sharaxay qardhaastii, sheekhi gacanta ii geli,
wixii shiinna lagu qoray, ma shirabin qardhaastii,
Ma shirabin qardhaastii, ma shirabin qaradhaastii…”
Mo’alin was angrier at the attempt by this ‘evil’ man to defile the value of his god-given skills, than the intrusion into his profession. He was depressed; but chose to ignore it.
The same khat seller, Dheega-cadde was shouting “many are dead-men walking, today”; to everyone who came to buy khat from him on that Thursday. He is known for being loquacious and no one paid attention. He heard that warning from the district security head, as he bought his bundle of the “green leaves” a little earlier; but knew of no details.
First lieutenant Abraha stepped forward and caught the left ear of the old man with malicious slap. “quj bal (sit down)” he ordered him. The old man fell to the ground well before the order. As he walked back to his car, he told the “hostages”, “fine. I see you have decided to protect your darlings. You can go now, I know what to do.” The dust of his speeding vehicles dirtied some white dresses close by; as he dashed to the military camp.
Quickly, that afternoon, Abraha took out a piece of paper and asked all the members of the district executive committee to name the most influential personalities in their sub-clans. When the list reached forty-eight, he was satisfied. For each of the Tigrayan ‘hero’ murdered, he will kill eight Somali’s. Of course, some might spoil his plan if they ‘buy themselves out’ of the death sentences. That is if they pay ten thousand Birr each. If that happens, the monetary gain will offset some of his disappointment, as long as a minimum of twenty are killed.
Dr. Roble is not a psychiatrist; but a general practitioner. Yet, the enormity and diversity of health problems in this small town turned him into ‘a doctor for all’. He just can’t sit back and protest it is not his area of specialization-whenever desperate villagers bring all kinds of patients into his two-room pharmacy/clinic. He does his best; and the community is grateful. When they brought Amran to him, nearly a year after that eventful Thursday; she had already lost her sanity. They told him that she looked for her husband in all the jails of the country, in vain.
Amran’s account of that ‘epoch of lunacy’ is different, as she told her brother-in-law when she brought Nimco for medical treatment 13 years later. She says she saw her husband, walking in the street and run after him to tell him how much pain she have gone through, while he was away. She says, she is sure that it was him. Those that witnessed the incident in which she threw away her toddler and run bare-footed into the traffic in Harar, say they saw no one in the direction she ran to.
She still claims that every night, analogues to the character in James Joyce’s Finnegan’s wake, her sub-conscious “breaks open” as she sleeps, Kaafi walks in silently, and then they would have a marvelous time together. That is why she dislikes the crow of cocks in the early morning, which “puts back together” her skull in the morning.
What happened was, that crooks who took money from her; took her from place to pace promising to show Kaafi to her, for a long time. When she finally run out of money, a day that coincided with the day they promised to “produce” him from one of the main prisons; they didn’t turn up at the rendezvous. She had had occasional break-downs before that day. But that ‘ultimate’ day as despair crept in full; she suddenly threw her baby-girl to the ground and rushed to “destination unknown”.
In Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s acclaimed novel, Love in the time of Cholera, the lovesick Florentino Ariza, at one point conflated his physical agony with his amorous agony; when he vomits after eating flowers in order to imbibe Farmina’s scent- his love who is happily married to the respectable medical doctor, Dr.Urbino. The novel is a tale of unrequited love that explores the idea that suffering for love is a kind of nobility. In a bizarre analogy, Amran –in this desolate town in Hawd finds similar solace from knowing all her misery is for her lost husband. Florentino Ariza lived long enough in that fifty-year love triangle, to share moments of happiness with the widow Farmina-after the tragic death of her beloved husband. The societal view that love is a young person’s prerogative, when indeed they were now ebbing to their last days, was the only drawback to their enthralling tale.
Amran finds happiness in the fantasy realm of her own imagination. Only in that mystical world does her passionate heart overwhelm her passionless mind. For her, “in the beginning was the love-not the thought”. All the real word offers to her is the glaring tragedy of her “loss”, of the promising days that never materialized, of the deprived joy of lifetime with the irreplaceable Kaafi; and that awakes her to the odour of putrefaction inside her.
She views accepting the endless “you can’t kill yourself like this”, and “keep up your spirits, life goes on” advices of well-wishers; as being tantamount to profanation of the purity of her love to her late husband. Cruelly, that augurs an uncertain future to her. So, she neither listens nor adheres to it. Long ago, she has forfeited the temptations of carnality, and opted to live in the ‘spiritually rewarding’ world of madness.
It doesn’t matter what she argues, and in the definition of this society, she is ‘a mentally unfit” women. Sadly for her, that is also the judgment of the last psychiatrist who saw her. He said, if she follows medication properly and lowers her stress, the frequency of the lapses she encounters will reduce.
After praying the sunset prayers in near-by mosque, Kaafi came to his home to deliver the items he bought. As he talked to his mother, who was there for the last three nights, helping the expecting mother, his sister who took the stuff from him, remarked “why don’t you came in and see your baby? She looks like you!” “ilmuhu meel iga tegi maayo, waan soo noqone pass this stuff now” he scolded her. As he walked off to, most likely, Xabiib’s house to watch news from the lonely satellite dish in town; half-a-dozen soldiers suddenly stood on his way. They didn’t produce any warrant nor did they say a word. They pushed and shoved him; and took him away.
Amran still recounts how she hurriedly jumped out from her makeshift bed-oblivious to her pain, as she caught up with the soldiers and pleaded them to release him. She knew it was futile, and immediately resigned to her fate. But one Somali-speaking man, who was with the soldiers, gave her good news. ‘Ninkii lacag haysta waa la siidaynayaaye’, he said and advised her to prepare ten thousand for tomorrow.
She immediately left to the telephone center-state owned-which fortunately was open at that late hour due to the holiday festivities. She ringed her brother abroad.
Thousands of miles away, in South hall-London, Nassir had every thing to be excited about. He was in the middle of his paternity leave, just wounded up a tiresome-but wonderful shopping spree at a downtown Spa. He was few blocks away from his house, and the music coming out of the CD player in his Subaru car summed up his feelings on that given day: Louise Armstrong’s what a wonderful world!
The Indian spare part dealer tried to spoil his day earlier, when he kept nagging ‘sir, your car needs du (two) cylinders-nad (not) one’. Bal maxaa ka galay, ma isagaa iga bixinaya, he wondered. “No, brother, I intend to buy only one”, finally he told him firmly. Nothing puts him off more than the patronizing hindi(Indian) and Chinese chopsticks.
He saw the ringing telephone and knew it is from Africa. But he was in no hurry to answer. He recalls that he sent the ‘bill’ plus Ciid money a week ago, and personally confirmed his relatives back home got it. So, for what are they bothering him now? It wasn’t Ciid here; and he didn’t think it was ‘ciid wanaagsan’ call. He doesn’t remember when someone braved the cost and called for such pleasantries from as far as Africa.
So, he didn’t answer. In any given day-when he is not off, he would have blamed the fatigue and stress that makes life unbearable; in the glittering cities of the west. In retrospect, after his sister told him the urgency and importance of that call- many months later; he laments bad luck and his heart sinks with a feeling of partial guilt.
No one can, of course, be sure of whether it would have mattered anyway. Some of the inmates taken to xerada kiflatoorka (military camp) that night; say Kaafi was among the first round of men taken out from the cell in the darkness of midnight that same Thursday and killed. But if that was the case, why wasn’t his body among the twelve displayed the next morning? Cabdiwaaxid was one of the dead; killed for commenting ‘war nimankan dadka Ciidaya cadceeda ku haya maa la iska celiyo?!’ he was not in the initial hit-list, but after his ‘incitements’ were learned of, he was picked up. One of the corpses was a young man who recently came from South Africa, lured by false story of peace and prosperity at home.
It is difficult to take the account of terrified men, more so when they give conflicting stories. Cali-dhuux, one of the survivors, said he saw Kaafi Dheere nearly a week after that night. All these testimonies are not better than those who came to Amran, month after month, with stories of which prison he is in; some claiming they are ex-room mates released recently; before she found a ‘safe refuge’ in madness.
The Commander, Abraha knows he had ordered the execution of twenty six of the men arrested that night. And had it not been for the wicked ‘ingenuity’ of his deputy-the diminutive Takle, would have displayed all of the dead bodies. Takele suggested that fourteen of them be strangled to death; and their bodies buried inside the camp. Unlike his bullish boss, Takle is more calculative and cunning. But his meanness and barbarism is unmatched by any in his regiment. His undisguised hypertrophic sense of ‘gallantry’ is annoying to most of his subordinates, as well.
Displaying the dead will satisfy his burning desire for revenge, in addition to the ‘terror’ that it will send down the spine of the ‘coward’ Somali’s. Hiding the rest of the dead, will quell the feeling of desperation that could result in an outburst of violence, but will serve the purpose of getting more ‘income’ from anxious family members.
Three months after the Ciid, the fortunate ones who cheated death by the grace of God, came out one after another to the hug and cries of their beloved families. Amran and Kaafi’s family stood there for hours-waiting patiently. All in all, the number of men who walked out of the military camp was fourteen. If it is assumed twenty were killed on that fatal Ciid night, there will still be four more men an accounted for. To date, no one can tell where they are. The army that took them didn’t offer any explanation, not only about them, but also about the eight men who were buried en mass in undisclosed location.
Amran is not mystic and doesn’t believe in presentiments and ominous auguries. If she did, the falling of Kaafi’s shirt three times from the nail on the wall of her room could have given her a critical hint. She was surprised, but she took it as one of many ‘inexplicable experiences’ she encountered all her life.
Few trivial things could turn around the fate of many people for good or for worse. Amran rues the neglect that led to belittling the signs of the impending disaster to strike. What if she had taken interest when the girls told her what they heard from their teacher! Why hadn’t she called him to see the child when he briefly came to the house? What if her brother could have answered her telephone-she called for nearly an hour? What if Kaafi hadn’t volunteered to replace a terrified old man, who couldn’t stand up of the ground after he was summoned for execution-if the account of one of the confused ‘survivors’ is to be believed!
What if Kaafi’s family embraces the same optimism in her, and goes with her to all prisons in Ethiopia! The last if, is why she hates all his families whom she accuses of not endeavoring enough to locate him.
The most decisive information that would have saved Kaafi of this ‘ambiguous finale’ was delivered by none other than Badal Garawle, who literally cried to inform Kaafi’s big brother Muxumed, that he saw a list of prominent men to be killed that night. He said he saw it in the hands of an army intelligence officer; who gave to him so that he can coach him on how to pronounce the names correctly-when they met in the barber-shop. Muxumed laughed at him sarcastically, asking him, if the paper he saw also contained the bishii!
Badal Garawle lost credibility among some; but it was not all fiasco. Reputation yaryaraysi male, and he can never forget when a stingy shop owner who never lends anything to anybody, allowed him to take a shirt on loan from his shop; remarking sow ninka bisha arkaa adiga matihid!
It is only Amran who still buys into that story of the unaccounted ‘four’. She believes her man is alive somewhere; I know he is, she murmurs indignantly whenever they tell her to take samir. Poor pitiful women! Her daughter also doesn’t refer to her father as ‘the late’. When she has to talk about him, It is ‘my missing’ father. Since the day she started identifying the good from the evil, she vowed not to celebrate any Ciid. When her peers ask her, when she shall dance with them, she replies, when my father comes back!
Amran’s misery was not something that was done purposely to spoil her life. She was too insignificant to be have been targeted. Her crime was more like the young princes who had to be butchered trying to get through the thorn-hedge that surrounded the proverbial sleeping beauty, just because they had the bad luck to be born before her hundred-year curse expired.
Amran had the bad luck to have been born to the wrong side of the arid land of acacia and camels of Hawd; decades after some malicious white man put a line on a white paper and decided it be part of ‘where it never belonged to’ and ‘can never belong to’. She is even unluckier as ‘the white man’s curse’ that led to illegal occupation- unlike that of the sleeping beauty- is indefinite. Neither the ‘good fairy’ which made the princess sleep, nor the prince’s son who would kiss and awaken her, are not guaranteed.
That grisly Ciid-day, when women’s wailing and ear-piercing cries replaced the customary cheers and rhymes of hope and ecstasy; left a panoptic memory of pain in the minds of all those who had the misfortune to witness it. It left a picture of the savagery of ‘devil’ in the skin of a human, and of an endless suffering of the ‘cursed people’. That day’s ordeal was too horrific even by the standards of this land of widows, and orphans!!
And wished to be with her children
…then remembering her last child
Gazed desperately into the horizon
And shouted a piercing sentence
Stop killing our children!
Stop killing our children!!!’
Laila Yaghi, river of tears
Although Sheekh Maxamuud was mindful of the ferocity of the fury his verdict would entail amongst the faithful, he had no option but to announce the Ciid festivities for tomorrow. That he often digs into all ‘loopholes’ in the Holy Scriptures to shorten the holly month of Ramadan by an average of two to three days each year; has nothing to do with his chronic ulcers-contrary to the falsehood the young irresponsible Xerow spread.
Or so he wishes to believe. After all, why does he have to give a damn about the fabrications of the neophyte Xerow, who was upset because he felt his ‘mu’addin’ title, has gone to a relative of the Sheekh. Livid over this, he started the gossip that the Sheekh feigned illness in the first two days of the Ramadan; so that he is not told of the news of the entry of the holy month.
This maverick xerow hasn’t quite attained the reaches of Erasmus’s ridicules and mocks against theologians in the praise of folly, but has all the marks of a ‘rebel’ in the making. Sheekh Maxamuud was fully aware of it, but was also confident he has solid religious grounds to declare tomorrow-Thursday, Ciid el-Fidri. After all, he has a living witness.
Badal Garawle is a short, stout, and kind of dumpy looking man. God has not been gracious to him in good looks, humour or some other exceptional talent. That embitters him as he hardly finds his name in the domain of any sort of discussions in this small town in the Hawd. But the last two years were exceptionally good to him. Rather, he was good to himself. Last year, it was him who spotted the crescent, bishii, and was the sole eyewitness in the entire town. In every corner, people happily exchanged compliments of the Eid, blessing Badal.
As early as three decades ago, Osman Gacanlaw understood human vanity and his inherent penchant for attention; as is evident in his inspirational song: Inaan ahey nin mudan oo kara wixii uu maagaba,waa inuu magaaladda magacaygu gaadhaa. It is this proclivity for self-importance that catapults the desire in us to ‘be noticed’. Ambition follows; and like appetite for food, attention-seeking varies in degree among humans. Nonetheless, it is invariably emblematic of humans.
That night, a repeat of the rare moment of ‘grandeur’ and ‘acknowledgement’ was on Badal’s mind; when he tumbled forth to the stage next to the Imam in the Cisha prayers and swore that he has seen bishii again. Of course, both years, he would have been the last person to see it; even if a three-night moon was on a clear sky. He has a very bad sight. But who among them would not have lied to get a glimpse of attention, after years of seclusion and obscurity! He reasoned, as he shook off the tinge of guilt he felt inside for lying to the devout community.
All the doubts, shouts, and recriminations that followed Sheekh Maxamuud’s edict; all the threats against Badal and insults hurled at him; and all the protest angry mobs took to his uncle- wiilkan aad adderka u tahay maad umadda ka qabatid; were to no avail, in the end. Badal knew this was a passing annoyance. No other country has seen the moon; but the Sheikh was adamant: ‘inagga aragtina ku sooma, agagtina ku afura ayaa la ina yidhi.”
Several hours later as the day break; all the tea houses played Ciid songs from loud speakers hooked to their windows. Xassen Diriye has always been the favorite in this small town for such occasions.
“Maanta Cadar iyo aynu maaweel
Isku maydhnoo Mushmushaaxnee
Maalinta weyn yaan la moogaan…”
Ciid revelers cheered and chanted to the song. As Badal strode to the prayers that morning, all the old women who saw him on his way waved their hands to him in appreciation. Shariifo Barni believes god has endowed this man with supernatural gift. Sidaa unbaa loogu daalici bisha ramadaan, bal ilaahay amrkii she commented to the others with her. Saakin was full of disdain for his critics. Intaasaa loo quudhi la’yahay, oo rag magac sheegani meelahaa kaga caayaan baa layidhi. Eedo Koraad was surprised: alla dadku isu daranaa, cajaa’iib! waa aakhri sabaan, she said. The oldest women in the marching crowd knew why all this is happening to the poor man: tol buuna la heyn!
In the mud house of Amran, the jubilation was for one more reason. It was at the dawn of the same day that she finally delivered a health baby girl, after long hours of labouring. Nimco was born in a day of feast and happiness. Amran mulled adding iiddo as a suffix to the child’s name. Nimco’s father, Kaafi dheere, has not yet come to the house, after he spent last night with friends. He stayed in friend’s house, as midwives and women relatives occupied his house, to attend to his wife. In the morning, he went straight to Ciid prayers; and planned to buy drinks and clothes to the new-born baby later. He was told it was a girl.
Until now, Kaafi who is a lame man has escaped the suspicion of the Ethiopian military. However, the killing of six senior Ethiopian army intelligence officers last night in front of the plot of land where he sells imported second-hand clothes, by unidentified gunmen, muddied the waters.
A week ago, when two soldiers were ambushed and killed near the main motorized well in the center of the town, the army responded by heading straight to the house of the district chairman Cumar Dahir; and put ten bullets in his skull in front of his children. They later justified their actions in the joint security meeting with the ‘civilian’ administrators; stating they had ‘evidence’ of his involvement in the ambush. No one dared to question their ‘evidences’.
It is still unbelievable how Kaafi hadn’t heard of what virtually everyone in town knew about. That the army commander- first Lieutenant Abraha mentioned his name in a meeting; as the ‘number one’ conduit and supplier of information to the rebels. Almost everyone in town who heard of this news rushed to warn him.
The first was his elder brother, who as they finished the prayers whispered to him, “ha iga tagin intaan sunaysanayo, hawl baan kula socodsiinee”. But Kaafi Dheere completely forgot this message as he limped off hurriedly to the main market to get supplies to the new mother and her baby. When his brother was done with prayers, and saw that he is not around, he dashed to the only market where he knew he will find him.
Thirteen years later, when her uncle met the beautiful but sick Nimco-who was brought by her mother to his house so that he takes her to a proper Hospital, he saw the hollow in her eyes; created by the missed love of a lost father. Her mother had grown inexplicably old and was almost unrecognizable to him at first. While waiting for the result of Nimco’s chest x-ray, the nurse’s rather innocuous but silly question flashed back memories of her husband. ‘How many kilos did she weigh at birth?’ The nurse asked. Amran stared at her for a long period, consumed by a sweet reverie.
She was thinking about her first night with Kaafi. She always sheds tears in hilarious laughter when she recollects those tense moments. After the ceremony ended and everybody left, in that tiny room, she lowered the lantern and sat next to him. Thirsty and having waited for this prize for too long, he lunged forward onto her chest. She took his hands calmly, caressed a bit and rubbed his chest. Disregarding the disbelief in his eyes, she gently kissed his lips and cheeks. Unable to muster enough composure to utter a word- but disconcerted inside-he took her hands aside and went ahead with his rehearsed move.
It was only after he was relieved of his ‘passion’ that he asked; “waa maxay faraha, iyo carrabka iyo waxan aad is horwadaa? Had it not been for the virginity he had ascertained beyond reasonable doubt, their marriage would have ended the same way it has started: fast. Mar haduu amaanku sugan yahay, waa caadi. That realization gave him the faith to respect his bride.
The next two nights she stopped making any foreplay to their love-making-aware of the harsh chide she received earlier. How dare she can! Admittedly, the last two nights were not as enjoyable as the ‘indecent’ first one, for Kaafi too. Yet, he was too conceited to raise this subject again. But, something interesting happened on the third night.
When she invitingly threw herself onto the mattress, he remained seated and said; “een, maxay aheyd, Amran. We are grown up people. An impregnable wall of confidentiality is mandatory for our marriage to succeed. Imika, hawshii iyada aheyd-tii habeenkii u horeysay- take it up from where you left off. Af-keenunna waa isu amaan. Since then, long romantic pushes and gentle ‘whips’ was an integral precursor of their sleep. What a time they had after that nervy start!
Amran grew up in Mogadishu, where her family fled to after the 1977 Ethio-Somali war. It is there where she completed her secondary school. Kaafi, in contrast was a dynamic student in jijiga secondary school until the final year of his schooling. He was readying himself to write the national school leaving examination-and was hopeful of an excellent result-when his father succumbed to the cholera that broke out in his home town. His late father’s words ringed in his ears. Adiga unbaa kugu haleeyay reerkaas. His eight younger siblings have no one except him to support. That compelled him to start small business-selling second hand cloths, to raise them.
Their love story was love at first sight. And after few weeks of epistolary love exchanges, both were confident enough to go for the sacred destiny. Amran was impressed with the intellect, humility and dutifulness of her man. He was sure of her decency and faithfulness. That is why he had been taken aback by that ‘imprudent’ initiative of her on the first night.
By the time, Amran woke of her lapse of concentration and queried “maxaad I tidhi?” the nurse was gone.
First lieutenant Abraha, the commander of the army, was in no mood for mercy or consideration. If they had to celebrate their ‘silly Ciid’, it is not my business, he thought. Indeed, if he has to teach them a lesson -on how hard losing a comrade is, it couldn’t have come at a better time. Last night as he oversaw the burial ceremony for the fallen Tigrayan compatriots, his heart bled. Someone will have to pay dearly! He is not a judge or a priest to take the time to ensure who is innocent or guilty! He is a soldier. And, a ‘fine’ one for that!
He addressed the over two-hundred men, sitting under the sun in garoonka, a big place for Ciid prayers. These men were the last ones leaving the scene, having done their Salaad; when they were surrounded by three land cruiser pick-up cars full of soldiers. Stay put where you are; one soldier ordered-before Abraha majestically jumped out of the cabin of one of the cars. He made a speech.
“Listen! Ye sumale shimagilewooch (Somali elders!). Last night six of our bravest fighters -flag-bearers- of the “generation that rocked mountains”, who played pivotal role in defeating the ‘cannibal’ Derg army, were killed by your sons. I don’t care if they are called URLF, or GST, or Altaxaad or Al-mubaarakat! I am in no mood to indulge in etymology of weird acronyms and Arabic nouns. They are all Somali’s. You know them and you supply information, money and moral support to them. Now, I give you an ultimatum: produce the killers right here, or no one is walking from this sun alive.”
He was not finished. “When one of your own is killed by another, you find out and take revenge or settle the issue through reparations. When one of our men is killed, all of a sudden you play deaf and dumb. That is not going to work anymore.”
After sitting in the sun for nearly three hours -with Abraha taking shade under one of the vehicles, one frail old man stood and spoke, trembling. ‘I think we have seen many governments before. We have also witnessed similar incidents. But this is the first time that, on a day of a mammoth meaning to us, we are forced to sit under the sun and confess ‘ crimes’ which a) we don’t know who did b) we haven’t done and c) even if we knew, we had no power to stop it.’
The old man was agitated. ‘Is this fair? What kind of justice is this? What kind of humans are you when you don’t respect men in their seventies and eighties who just concluded a tough holly month; and for your information haven’t eaten since this morning? It is already three pm and our children are waiting for us to share the ciid with them. Order your ‘intelligence’ to investigate and let us go to our homes.’
Kaafi dheere was lucky to have left earlier. He bought stuff to his wife and child; but decided to chat with revelers before lunch. He left the items he bought with the shop, telling him that he will collect sometime in the afternoon. He went straight to Cabdiwaaxid’s restaurant where camel meat was the day’s ‘special’ dish. Cabdiwaaxid is also his neighbour. He is in his early twenty’s; and the manager of the restaurant. The owner is his wife, Xalimo-naadis; who is older than him by about ten years. That age difference is the cause of some bitter disagreements at times.
Like, two months ago. They retuned from the wedding ceremony of Cabdiwaaxid’s elder brother who married a teenager. Amid the feast and exultation, Cabdiwaaxid was chanting loudly to all songs, obviously happy for his brother. But things took a nasty face when he and Xalimo returned home. No sooner had they entered into their house than she took a kettle from the compound and hit his head. He had to be stitched three times to stop the bleeding. He thinks he heard her angry words, seconds before he got the hit. “Yaad u duur xulaysay, when you were screeching wali waa carruurro waa laan curdun ahoo?”
Xaliimo thought he has done that deliberately to embarrass her in front of the crowd at the wedding. These kinds of misunderstandings are common in their home; but love is not in short supply, as well. Leona Lewis’s bleeding love, it is.
Cabdiwaaxid told him, about last night’s incident-which Kaafi already knew about; but not that some soldiers came to the restaurant half-an-hour ago looking for him. He thought they may have been looking for him to grab few jeans trousers from the latest consignment of hoodheyd he received; before it is opened for sale. They do that often.
Mo’alin Mowlid teaches Quraan to Amran and three other girls from the neighborhood. He loves one of them-Sacdiya buur. Perhaps that is why, more recently, he has been cherry-picking on his wacdi after the lessons. Favourite topics of the month before the Ramadan hovered more around couple’s intimate moments. Haa, xaasikiinu waa beertinna oo kale, so you can play with them in whichever way that pleases you, he said twice in a week. ‘Kolkay dumarku dhiiga leeyihiin, they are exempted from certain duties’, he reminded them several times. Subconsciously, he will utter these words, as a reaction to a growing sensual desire inside. He had decided to talk to Sacdiya about marriage sometime soon.
But, even Mo’alin Mowlid had not repeated his predictable lines on this Thursday afternoon. After he blessed the new born baby, and thanked Allah for the safe delivery of Amran, he unusually spoke about what is being talked about in town: That Kaafi will be arrested tonight. ‘Macalin, cashirka noo wad; dadka cisha walba waa la xidhaaye’, the girls told him one after another. He thought that they were missing that ‘erotic’ subject. ‘Alla dumarku inkaarana’, he chuckled. Of course, Amran was not there, but none of the girls wanted to spoil her day by spooking her with unverified rumors; when they visited her later.
And when they did tell her of what Mo’alin Mowlid told them-it was casually. “yuu ka maqlay” Amran asked, surprised that Mo’alin, uncharacteristically, was having ears for political rumors. “Yuu ka maqli lahaa? manaab baa lagu tusaye” the ladies kidded. Then they jumped the topic and started a new thread: “ina Abshir waa loo soo fadhiisanayaa baa la yidhi”. The discussion reached the point of evaluating the candidate: “He is a good working man, those who know him said; although a bit “old”.
Mo’alin Mowlid is a disciplined man with moral authority and he was held with high esteem by the community. The only day he felt abused was when one useless Jaadle (khat seller) tried to mock him; as Mo’alin was preparing taxaliil for a sick boy. The Jaadle stormed into the small compound, and on sight of the religious man; commented “oo manta macal maclinkii baa joogee” trying to be funny for the benefit of the ladies around. He then sang a line from Mohamed Moge’s timeless waxaan tagay shacbaankii.
“La sharaxay qardhaastii, sheekhi gacanta ii geli,
wixii shiinna lagu qoray, ma shirabin qardhaastii,
Ma shirabin qardhaastii, ma shirabin qaradhaastii…”
Mo’alin was angrier at the attempt by this ‘evil’ man to defile the value of his god-given skills, than the intrusion into his profession. He was depressed; but chose to ignore it.
The same khat seller, Dheega-cadde was shouting “many are dead-men walking, today”; to everyone who came to buy khat from him on that Thursday. He is known for being loquacious and no one paid attention. He heard that warning from the district security head, as he bought his bundle of the “green leaves” a little earlier; but knew of no details.
First lieutenant Abraha stepped forward and caught the left ear of the old man with malicious slap. “quj bal (sit down)” he ordered him. The old man fell to the ground well before the order. As he walked back to his car, he told the “hostages”, “fine. I see you have decided to protect your darlings. You can go now, I know what to do.” The dust of his speeding vehicles dirtied some white dresses close by; as he dashed to the military camp.
Quickly, that afternoon, Abraha took out a piece of paper and asked all the members of the district executive committee to name the most influential personalities in their sub-clans. When the list reached forty-eight, he was satisfied. For each of the Tigrayan ‘hero’ murdered, he will kill eight Somali’s. Of course, some might spoil his plan if they ‘buy themselves out’ of the death sentences. That is if they pay ten thousand Birr each. If that happens, the monetary gain will offset some of his disappointment, as long as a minimum of twenty are killed.
Dr. Roble is not a psychiatrist; but a general practitioner. Yet, the enormity and diversity of health problems in this small town turned him into ‘a doctor for all’. He just can’t sit back and protest it is not his area of specialization-whenever desperate villagers bring all kinds of patients into his two-room pharmacy/clinic. He does his best; and the community is grateful. When they brought Amran to him, nearly a year after that eventful Thursday; she had already lost her sanity. They told him that she looked for her husband in all the jails of the country, in vain.
Amran’s account of that ‘epoch of lunacy’ is different, as she told her brother-in-law when she brought Nimco for medical treatment 13 years later. She says she saw her husband, walking in the street and run after him to tell him how much pain she have gone through, while he was away. She says, she is sure that it was him. Those that witnessed the incident in which she threw away her toddler and run bare-footed into the traffic in Harar, say they saw no one in the direction she ran to.
She still claims that every night, analogues to the character in James Joyce’s Finnegan’s wake, her sub-conscious “breaks open” as she sleeps, Kaafi walks in silently, and then they would have a marvelous time together. That is why she dislikes the crow of cocks in the early morning, which “puts back together” her skull in the morning.
What happened was, that crooks who took money from her; took her from place to pace promising to show Kaafi to her, for a long time. When she finally run out of money, a day that coincided with the day they promised to “produce” him from one of the main prisons; they didn’t turn up at the rendezvous. She had had occasional break-downs before that day. But that ‘ultimate’ day as despair crept in full; she suddenly threw her baby-girl to the ground and rushed to “destination unknown”.
In Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s acclaimed novel, Love in the time of Cholera, the lovesick Florentino Ariza, at one point conflated his physical agony with his amorous agony; when he vomits after eating flowers in order to imbibe Farmina’s scent- his love who is happily married to the respectable medical doctor, Dr.Urbino. The novel is a tale of unrequited love that explores the idea that suffering for love is a kind of nobility. In a bizarre analogy, Amran –in this desolate town in Hawd finds similar solace from knowing all her misery is for her lost husband. Florentino Ariza lived long enough in that fifty-year love triangle, to share moments of happiness with the widow Farmina-after the tragic death of her beloved husband. The societal view that love is a young person’s prerogative, when indeed they were now ebbing to their last days, was the only drawback to their enthralling tale.
Amran finds happiness in the fantasy realm of her own imagination. Only in that mystical world does her passionate heart overwhelm her passionless mind. For her, “in the beginning was the love-not the thought”. All the real word offers to her is the glaring tragedy of her “loss”, of the promising days that never materialized, of the deprived joy of lifetime with the irreplaceable Kaafi; and that awakes her to the odour of putrefaction inside her.
She views accepting the endless “you can’t kill yourself like this”, and “keep up your spirits, life goes on” advices of well-wishers; as being tantamount to profanation of the purity of her love to her late husband. Cruelly, that augurs an uncertain future to her. So, she neither listens nor adheres to it. Long ago, she has forfeited the temptations of carnality, and opted to live in the ‘spiritually rewarding’ world of madness.
It doesn’t matter what she argues, and in the definition of this society, she is ‘a mentally unfit” women. Sadly for her, that is also the judgment of the last psychiatrist who saw her. He said, if she follows medication properly and lowers her stress, the frequency of the lapses she encounters will reduce.
After praying the sunset prayers in near-by mosque, Kaafi came to his home to deliver the items he bought. As he talked to his mother, who was there for the last three nights, helping the expecting mother, his sister who took the stuff from him, remarked “why don’t you came in and see your baby? She looks like you!” “ilmuhu meel iga tegi maayo, waan soo noqone pass this stuff now” he scolded her. As he walked off to, most likely, Xabiib’s house to watch news from the lonely satellite dish in town; half-a-dozen soldiers suddenly stood on his way. They didn’t produce any warrant nor did they say a word. They pushed and shoved him; and took him away.
Amran still recounts how she hurriedly jumped out from her makeshift bed-oblivious to her pain, as she caught up with the soldiers and pleaded them to release him. She knew it was futile, and immediately resigned to her fate. But one Somali-speaking man, who was with the soldiers, gave her good news. ‘Ninkii lacag haysta waa la siidaynayaaye’, he said and advised her to prepare ten thousand for tomorrow.
She immediately left to the telephone center-state owned-which fortunately was open at that late hour due to the holiday festivities. She ringed her brother abroad.
Thousands of miles away, in South hall-London, Nassir had every thing to be excited about. He was in the middle of his paternity leave, just wounded up a tiresome-but wonderful shopping spree at a downtown Spa. He was few blocks away from his house, and the music coming out of the CD player in his Subaru car summed up his feelings on that given day: Louise Armstrong’s what a wonderful world!
The Indian spare part dealer tried to spoil his day earlier, when he kept nagging ‘sir, your car needs du (two) cylinders-nad (not) one’. Bal maxaa ka galay, ma isagaa iga bixinaya, he wondered. “No, brother, I intend to buy only one”, finally he told him firmly. Nothing puts him off more than the patronizing hindi(Indian) and Chinese chopsticks.
He saw the ringing telephone and knew it is from Africa. But he was in no hurry to answer. He recalls that he sent the ‘bill’ plus Ciid money a week ago, and personally confirmed his relatives back home got it. So, for what are they bothering him now? It wasn’t Ciid here; and he didn’t think it was ‘ciid wanaagsan’ call. He doesn’t remember when someone braved the cost and called for such pleasantries from as far as Africa.
So, he didn’t answer. In any given day-when he is not off, he would have blamed the fatigue and stress that makes life unbearable; in the glittering cities of the west. In retrospect, after his sister told him the urgency and importance of that call- many months later; he laments bad luck and his heart sinks with a feeling of partial guilt.
No one can, of course, be sure of whether it would have mattered anyway. Some of the inmates taken to xerada kiflatoorka (military camp) that night; say Kaafi was among the first round of men taken out from the cell in the darkness of midnight that same Thursday and killed. But if that was the case, why wasn’t his body among the twelve displayed the next morning? Cabdiwaaxid was one of the dead; killed for commenting ‘war nimankan dadka Ciidaya cadceeda ku haya maa la iska celiyo?!’ he was not in the initial hit-list, but after his ‘incitements’ were learned of, he was picked up. One of the corpses was a young man who recently came from South Africa, lured by false story of peace and prosperity at home.
It is difficult to take the account of terrified men, more so when they give conflicting stories. Cali-dhuux, one of the survivors, said he saw Kaafi Dheere nearly a week after that night. All these testimonies are not better than those who came to Amran, month after month, with stories of which prison he is in; some claiming they are ex-room mates released recently; before she found a ‘safe refuge’ in madness.
The Commander, Abraha knows he had ordered the execution of twenty six of the men arrested that night. And had it not been for the wicked ‘ingenuity’ of his deputy-the diminutive Takle, would have displayed all of the dead bodies. Takele suggested that fourteen of them be strangled to death; and their bodies buried inside the camp. Unlike his bullish boss, Takle is more calculative and cunning. But his meanness and barbarism is unmatched by any in his regiment. His undisguised hypertrophic sense of ‘gallantry’ is annoying to most of his subordinates, as well.
Displaying the dead will satisfy his burning desire for revenge, in addition to the ‘terror’ that it will send down the spine of the ‘coward’ Somali’s. Hiding the rest of the dead, will quell the feeling of desperation that could result in an outburst of violence, but will serve the purpose of getting more ‘income’ from anxious family members.
Three months after the Ciid, the fortunate ones who cheated death by the grace of God, came out one after another to the hug and cries of their beloved families. Amran and Kaafi’s family stood there for hours-waiting patiently. All in all, the number of men who walked out of the military camp was fourteen. If it is assumed twenty were killed on that fatal Ciid night, there will still be four more men an accounted for. To date, no one can tell where they are. The army that took them didn’t offer any explanation, not only about them, but also about the eight men who were buried en mass in undisclosed location.
Amran is not mystic and doesn’t believe in presentiments and ominous auguries. If she did, the falling of Kaafi’s shirt three times from the nail on the wall of her room could have given her a critical hint. She was surprised, but she took it as one of many ‘inexplicable experiences’ she encountered all her life.
Few trivial things could turn around the fate of many people for good or for worse. Amran rues the neglect that led to belittling the signs of the impending disaster to strike. What if she had taken interest when the girls told her what they heard from their teacher! Why hadn’t she called him to see the child when he briefly came to the house? What if her brother could have answered her telephone-she called for nearly an hour? What if Kaafi hadn’t volunteered to replace a terrified old man, who couldn’t stand up of the ground after he was summoned for execution-if the account of one of the confused ‘survivors’ is to be believed!
What if Kaafi’s family embraces the same optimism in her, and goes with her to all prisons in Ethiopia! The last if, is why she hates all his families whom she accuses of not endeavoring enough to locate him.
The most decisive information that would have saved Kaafi of this ‘ambiguous finale’ was delivered by none other than Badal Garawle, who literally cried to inform Kaafi’s big brother Muxumed, that he saw a list of prominent men to be killed that night. He said he saw it in the hands of an army intelligence officer; who gave to him so that he can coach him on how to pronounce the names correctly-when they met in the barber-shop. Muxumed laughed at him sarcastically, asking him, if the paper he saw also contained the bishii!
Badal Garawle lost credibility among some; but it was not all fiasco. Reputation yaryaraysi male, and he can never forget when a stingy shop owner who never lends anything to anybody, allowed him to take a shirt on loan from his shop; remarking sow ninka bisha arkaa adiga matihid!
It is only Amran who still buys into that story of the unaccounted ‘four’. She believes her man is alive somewhere; I know he is, she murmurs indignantly whenever they tell her to take samir. Poor pitiful women! Her daughter also doesn’t refer to her father as ‘the late’. When she has to talk about him, It is ‘my missing’ father. Since the day she started identifying the good from the evil, she vowed not to celebrate any Ciid. When her peers ask her, when she shall dance with them, she replies, when my father comes back!
Amran’s misery was not something that was done purposely to spoil her life. She was too insignificant to be have been targeted. Her crime was more like the young princes who had to be butchered trying to get through the thorn-hedge that surrounded the proverbial sleeping beauty, just because they had the bad luck to be born before her hundred-year curse expired.
Amran had the bad luck to have been born to the wrong side of the arid land of acacia and camels of Hawd; decades after some malicious white man put a line on a white paper and decided it be part of ‘where it never belonged to’ and ‘can never belong to’. She is even unluckier as ‘the white man’s curse’ that led to illegal occupation- unlike that of the sleeping beauty- is indefinite. Neither the ‘good fairy’ which made the princess sleep, nor the prince’s son who would kiss and awaken her, are not guaranteed.
That grisly Ciid-day, when women’s wailing and ear-piercing cries replaced the customary cheers and rhymes of hope and ecstasy; left a panoptic memory of pain in the minds of all those who had the misfortune to witness it. It left a picture of the savagery of ‘devil’ in the skin of a human, and of an endless suffering of the ‘cursed people’. That day’s ordeal was too horrific even by the standards of this land of widows, and orphans!!
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