In the Morning when I wake up with a broken heart desperate for help. Trying to stand up with my tiny feeble legs. Dragging my feet like a lame deer. My knees and elbows are aching due to Arthritis. So that I could barely pick up my feet when walking. The icy tingling in my fingers and toes are very irritating. Finally pushing hard myself towards my cracking mirror which is as old as my wisdom tooth. Where I could see my aging face folded with wrinkles and deep scars. A V – Shaped bald surrounded by African stiff hair standing like nails. A bushy grey beard and moustache that is unfamiliar to a comb for months. Depressed eyes located in deep sockets, encircled by dark skin layers which is a sign of stress and depression. Two spongy smashed cheeks decorated with stained teeth that can’t chew more than corn – flakes. A harsh voice passing through my dry dusty lips. Coughing and sneezing at intervals. Starring back at my deep sunk wooden – bed that is covered with a dirty bed – sheet, and a ragged blanket full of dust. Glancing at my smoky roof dripping drops of dirty rain water. Above that. I noticed that I am dropping things like keys and coins. Pens flew from my fingers due to parkinson’s disease. Plus the growing anger as a result of the political hiccups of the contradicting dim views of Mr.Silanyo, and his puppet colleagues. Drought is severe and sweeping both, human and Live – Stock, prices of commodity are sky rocketing, unemployment is 90%, inflation is high up as never before, spreading disease is everywhere and yet the Kulmiye Party is continuing his campaigning trips for an unexpected election. Sometimes, I almost to faint for hearing too much disturbing and contradicting voices, whenever Mr.Silanyo, or one of his aides opens his mouth, or shakes a leg. Due to those many late nights of sleeping; I am now paying that heavy price of poor health, and degrading low spirit and motivation.
Dear reader, the recent fashion Show of shocking Slur – exchange and an imputation of wrongdoing at the National TVS, in between our respected mothers, and sisters. Plus, false photo – shop and photo – setting of political leaders, intended to misjudge, degrade and incriminate each other. Which is the most disgusting new show of shame of Mr.Silanyo Regime. The Tribal muscle manifesto of some ignorant short – sighted chiefs and sultans wearing a uniformed red scarf on their shoulders are a new curse that was inflicted among the public in recent days. While our young future generation are watching all these mischief in public. Above all that, being an enviable Oases of peace and tranquility surrounded by an Ocean full of wild beasts that peels off the flesh from the bone, headed by President Omer Geele Of Jibouti and our own New Cabdi xoosh of this era. A hostile neighbourhood that awaits for my maimed body to be captured by those sharp teeth that bites off, more than they can chew. Hence, I give up my life dream, and future prospects of a coming, and promising tomorrow. Then by coincidence, my twelve years old son, Ismail, comes running around. Looking at me with very sympathetic eyes asking, “ daddy why you are morally down and sitting idle with a gloomy face? “ I hesitated answering him with murmuring words of discontent. Then he hugged me and said, “ daddy don’t leave me alone in this wild World that steals the gold teeth from the dead body.” His impressive touching remarks boosted my dead spirit and I reshuffled my old cards again. Driving again my several times wrecked ship. Both hands on the wheel and my eyes on the horizon. Cursing my first day I hit my head on the earth planet. Because there is no light at the end of the tunnel. Dear reader, that is the preface of my personal thrilling story; and now I have to break the ice of the political hiccups of Mr.Silanyo, who is just the only cleanest dirty shirt around. Dictating our destiny with his dirty hands that are smeared with a cold blood.
Dear reader, I don’t know who is me yet, I have to discover myself again. A hole needs filling in my wisdom tooth. Time is a file that wears and makes no noise. Hope ties us to the future, as memory ties us to the past. He that teaches patience, never knew the pain. Our tools are working in other people’s garden. We are as old as we feel, and as young as we look.
Somaliland had only two good men, one is dead and the other is unborn yet. We are a helpless nation that is hog – tied by the International Community, and the Mother – In – Law from hell ( Tribalism ) which we already have prepared it’s coffin but always survives all flood and fire. Mr.Silanyo, if your head has many faces, turn your head to the sun. So the people can see your true colors.
Dear reader, before September 11, I used to be a strong believer on the false slogans of the Western Countries. Assuming that they are the cradle of peace and democracy, and an advocate of the Human Rights Act. But since September 11, the War – Cry slogans proved to me that the Western World Slogans, were falsely orchestrated remarks and a typical crocodile – tears. Anybody who is in doubt about my statement, have to make a quick look at some clips of facts and figures illustrated in the Documentary Films in the Google.Search. For Example: 1 ) Top Documentary Films. 2) New World Order. 3) The Conspiracy. 4 ) The Tears of Gaza. These figures and facts were prepared by some American healthy Christians; not by some hostile group to the American people. After you watch these documentary Films. I am deadly sure that you will come to the conclusion that the white man is an evil. That is why we see nowadays that the European Civilization and Culture is now in decline. The Eastern Civilization are making a come back. The United States will follow Europe’s down hill. That is why at the present time, the famous butterfly to the rain forest produces a storm in the Oval – Office of Mr.Silanyo. That is why the Tartars from Mogadishu are waiting the miracle stick from the Western Countries to solve the Somali crisis. The golden spoon for Mr. Hassan, with the timid smile and the dessert dish for Mr.Silanyo. Pushing us as Somalilanders to get united with sea – pirates that represent nobody, but their wallet and stomach. Mr. White – Man, never try to give us the fat with the lean. It won’t work with us. Don’t adulterate milk with water. infidelity, atheism, and Cynical Foul, and Homosexuality packed with democracy, and Human – Rights. And sovereignty with federalism. It contradicts each other. Many disturbing voices from the International Community are echoed to our ears. We have given you enough time to know who we are; and what is our destiny in life. You are advocating and pleading to free a sixteen years old girl from the custody of her parents while ignoring the Self – Determination of a whole nation. Enough is enough; it is the time to make our ultimate choice, between the East and West. Period ! The case is close. Our Ethiopian friends, we are alert; and we are all eyes and ears. As a nation, we are not that much dumb to distinguish between the crocodile – tears and the genuine – tears. By now, we are old enough to distinguish between the true, intimate friends; and the fair – weather – friend. We don’t want to give you a bad – turn for that good, you did for us in our days of doom and gloom; or to be ingratitude, and a discreditable nation who lacks gratitude. But don’t push us to the devil and the dead sea, to the Evil – Empire in Mogadishu. Enough is enough. For how long I will break my sword with my knees and sue for peace? My young wife always says to me whenever we quarrel over a spilled water. ” I will rather prefer to be a young man’s slave rather than to be an old man’s darling. ” Any time means no time. Either recognize our Sovereignty today; or never forever. with all my respect, it is not a dictating ultimatum; but it is a must duty for both of us. How long you expect me to stand at this Status Quo of Isolation and living in a Small – Container of 30 By 40 inches. Truth is God, the Indian sage, Mr. Mahatma Gandhi said. If I don’t get my favourite choice; I will do what I have to do, as an alternative.
Mr.Silanyo, Please don’t sign your death contract. If your wall has ears, the masses has eyes. It is better to limp on the right road rather than to speed up on the wrong road. A poet can survive everything, but misprint. Your clandestine illegal marriage with the Arab – Emirates, will break in to pieces, soon or later.
From now and then, you are preparing a badly conceived bombshell to discourage the true Somalilanders and to convince us that we can’t run our Sovereign – State. Dictating to us that we have no choice but to surrender to the Arab Countries who are sincere to the Evil – Empire in Mogadishu.
These Arab Countries who are planning for that old busted, false – dream of Great Somalia. In order to use the Somalis people as a stick to beat the Ethiopian people. Stop your day dream and don’t betray this poor nation that has trusted you with their destiny. They are more smarter than you expect, and you can’t sell their cause to a Bar – Tender like the timid president of Mogadishu, the Naive president Hassan; who is protected from his own people by a foreign troops. At the same time claiming the jurisdiction of the territory of Somaliland. Don’t try to impose your ill views on unwilling listeners. Neither you nor the International Community can take us back to that void busted Union of Great Somalia. Not on my dead body. By now, we are ready to adopt the philosophy of the German Uprising founded by Rosa Luxemburg in 1916. Acting as the ancient spartans of Greece and the spartacist of Rosa Luxemburg and Karl in 1817 – 1919. To prove our unbinding will – power, rigorous discipline, courage, endurance, and stern frugality. As greatness comes with the recognition that your potential is limited, only by how you choose your destiny, how you use your freedom, and how resilient, persistent, and how resolute you are. In short, it is your attitude. Remember ! A rebellion to a freedom fighter, is disobedience to God.
Mr.Silanyo, it is better to limp on the right road, than to speed up on the wrong road. A poet can survive everything, but misprint. It is a breach against the Human Rights Act to impose your ill views on unwilling listeners. When you hear us singing. It is not a sign of satisfaction. But music is a poor man’s spasm, used as an Anti – Pain. Tribalism and ignorance to our demands is a missionary tradition into the fabric of your veins and a stream in your blood.
Mr.Silanyo, what pains us trains us.
Thank you for being a head with two faces.
But remember ! that birds are coming home to roost.