^
Chapter Three (Lee and Mo) [some bits unedited - actually any volunteer editors? Im growing lazier by the day.]
A week has gone by since Liban’s hostile encounter in the Somali restaurant. And in the last few days, he did not bother going out of the house, save the odd visit to the local convenient store. He has been avoided all contact from anyone he might know. The area in which he lives has a large population of Somalis, and many of them know him in person. He made a lot of friends in the years he has lived in Southall, which is a immigrant dominated neighbourhood that comes under the borough of Ealing. Since he came to the United Kingdom, he has never for once moved away from Southall. As he considered it, Southall was the best place he could live in. Due to Southall’s proximity to Heathrow Airport, which many of Somalis have used to enter country, it meant that the number of Somalis settling in Southall was bound to grow. Thus, every day, to Liban’s delight, individuals whom he used to know in Mogadishu were joining Southall’s Somali crowd.
At most times, these individuals would bring news and accounts of the war or peace in Mogadishu. Sometimes, he was even lucky enough to find individuals, who have seen his family; who carried messages for him. In return, since he knows how things work in the UK, they would seek his assistance in all kinds of matters. Thus, his usefulness in assisting the new-comers has made him reputable and in high demand. Every day, not an hour passes, without receiving phones calls from those who require his assistance. However, over the last week, he kept his phone switched off. A week ago, he was angry at the fact that, the very people he has assisted in settling into the country, would be so ungrateful enough so as to threaten his own self. ‘To hell with them all’ he cursed before switching off the phone.
However, that was a week ago. Time seemed to have slightly healed some of his hurt. He picked up his mobile phone to switch it on, and no sooner have multiple various messages appeared on its screen. As usual, the messages were all about assistance sought except for one. This was not a message that was asking for assistance. To his surprise, it started with ‘so sorry about the restaurant incident the other day, Lee’ ending with ‘like to talk to you. Call me. Mo.’ The message puzzled Liban as he could not recognize who its sender was. He knew no one called Mo. He immediately wrote down the number of the sender and dialed it. After few rings, his call was answered with ‘ah Liban, I am glad you called’. ‘Thanks’ he replied ‘but if you don’t mind, do I know who you are?’ ‘Oh I am sorry for not introducing myself’ came back an apology ‘I am Mo, or Mohamed. I was in the restaurant that day you encountered the clannish man. I agreed with what you said, and after you have left, I got your number from one of the guys who was there’ explained Mo. ‘Thanks and nice to know you Mo’ answered Liban, to which Mo replied similarly.
Mo then continued to speak. ‘Liban, since we share the same stance, I was hoping we could meet sometime. It’s why I sent you the message’ stated Mo. ‘Sure we can, absolutely’ responded Liban. ‘That’s really great!’ enthused Mo, ‘if you are free, we could meet later in Red Sea café!’ ‘Yeah, as it happens, I am free from 8 pm. It’s now 6.30 and if you are OK with it, I can make it there around at 8.30’ said Liban. ‘8.30 its then’ agreed Mo, and with their meeting arranged, they ended the call.
Liban and Mo were not the only people arranging to meet up. Across the city of London and beyond, many like-minded Somali youth were arranging to meet, and discuss the role they should play in the future of Somali politics. A wave of optimism was sweeping across all the lands in which Somalis dwelt. From Mogadishu in Somalia to Burao in what is now Somaliland, from cities of the Northern Frontier Districts of Kenya to all Diaspora cities, Somalis become engaged in all sorts of meetings, and fund-raising projects, inspired by the victory the UIC brought about. At least, people felt, the peace that has eluded our country for so long, was finally back, and with peace, only the brightest future could be envisaged. The UIC and its senior figures suddenly became the symbols of hope and heroism. They were to be considered the saviors of the Somali nation from all the agonies of war, and the brutal Ethiopian incursions into the country’s porous territorial borders.
The people’s optimism about the victory of the UIC has even prompted a great deal conscientious self-analysis, in line with how best to facilitate the successful functioning of the future Somali state. Many parents looked to their grown and educated children to play vital role in the country’s rehabilitation, reconstruction and development process. They had good reasons to have such expectations of their children. In the last seventeen of the civil war, many families, who sought asylum in foreign countries, have been fortunate enough to have raised children, who gained valuable education in higher institutions across the world. There has never been a time when there were so many highly educated and qualified Somali graduates in all fields, not even during the heydays of the Somali statehood. This has been the upside of the war’s displacement, and now since there is peace, the educated youth would become a great benefit to a future Somali state.
Until now, peace was the only ingredient missing from the Somali life. But at last, many rejoiced, the heroic UIC has blessed our nation with the thing it most craved; peace. While the residents of Mogadishu were able, for the first time in seventeen punishing years, to get a good night sleep, Somalis in the Diaspora, especially the educated lot, could now dream of greater things to come. A feeling of great pride filled their hearts and for the first time in many years, they could now hold their heads high without any shame. Before the UIC’s victory in Mogadishu, the reality of statelessness in Somalia has negatively affected the morale of those living in the Diaspora. Everywhere they went, from social events to work places, the joke was always on them. Colleagues of other nationalities, cited Somalia’s chaotic statelessness to embarrass the Somali person, for his or her community’s inability to sort out their domestic problems, and co-exist like other civilized human beings.
And in many cases, since the Somali community is inflicted with a divisive clan politics, which makes it impossible to have a common voice, the national media and the press tended to find them the easiest target to defame. Constantly, hurtful and outrageous headlines such as ‘Somalis steal Donkeys and eat them for delicacy’ appeared on the newspapers. To add insult to injury, the newspapers, televisions stations, and at times, high ranking political figures, have misleadingly accused the community of committing most of the serious crimes in the UK. But in fact, what independent research has shown more than once is that, the most victimized ethnic group in, for example the UK, is the Somali community. The number of Diaspora Somalis murdered or seriously injured every year, is extremely alarming –yet no effective measures have been taken by governments to avert or even minimize the community’s victim-hood. Far from such effective measures, the Somali community continues to suffer stigmatization in all aspects of social life. Moreover, as though prior difficulties were not painful enough, the July 7th 2004 London bombings had another explosively wrapped gift to offer – terrorism. The list of the negatives grew once more. And, as can be imagined, the latter charge of terrorism tarnished the community’s image beyond repair.
It thus was understandable, that the Somali community would jubilate at the news of the UIC’s victory. In the conversations they had, the great opportunity of returning to the Motherland greatly featured in it. While some talked about going back very soon, many others have already flown back to Mogadishu, congregating on the city from all the corners of the globe. They rejoined their families after seventeen, celebrated in the streets, and swam, for the first time in many years, in its beaches. Many of Mogadishu’s residents to whom the beaches were a no-go area, joined them too. The pictures of the peaceful city, coupled with the happiness visible on its residents’ faces, were beamed throughout the world. Their content and composition couldn’t be more encouraging. Printed out, the pictures could be found hanging from the walls of Somali-owned businesses and homes. Hanging them from the walls, somehow, symbolized an act of sharing happy moments with their fellow countrymen everywhere. Soon enough, they began to convince themselves that they would be back to a peaceful homeland, instead of living in the humiliating refugee status they have come to despise. The emotional connection to their homeland has been firmly established.
Talking of emotional connection, in every day of his life as an asylum seeker, Liban never missed to feel a strong psychological connection between him and the country. That psychological connection came in the form of innate grief or relief, in accordance with the country’s situation at particular moments, despite not watching or listening to the news. He just felt things and strangely enough they he felt true. On the one hand, whenever he felt that innate grief, he would retort ‘oh Allah, have mercy on my people’ and for the rest of the day he remained despondent. On the other hand, whenever felt relief, he would feel confident enough to go out and enjoy the day. Such being the case, according to Liban, Somalia isn’t just some old land in which his fore-fathers were buried, whose safety is comparable to that of any other country. Nor was Somalia a simple physical non-living location, on which those who’ve erected structural objects were to call it home. No. Somalia to him is his very heart and soul. Anything that affected Somalia hurt or healed his heart. Therefore, he was convinced that his fate was intertwined with that of his country. Peace in the country in the country meant success in his personal life. And now that peace has been established, nothing was going to stop to acquire his deserved success. To acquire success, he envisioned, he must quickly become engaged in activities contributing to the endurance of peace at home. Now he needed ideas immensely and hoped meeting with Mo would generate some.
As he entered Red café, because he didn’t know how Mo looked, he reached into his pocket and took out his mobile phone to call him. But before he could press dial, deeper inside the café, he spotted a man in his late twenties waving to get his attention. He returned the phone into the pocket and walked to join the man. The man was Mo, who, so eager to meet Liban, he arrived fifteen minutes earlier and was able to eavesdrop on the conversations others were having. In Somali cafes and restaurants, all conversations seemed to be about the UIC’s victory of Somalia. Even those few people who opposed the UIC, for tribal reasons, couldn’t avoid mentioning the name of the UIC.
This uniformity in discussion topics, impressed Mo during the fifteen minutes he waited for Liban to join him. ‘Greetings friend, welcome please’ said Mo while he shook Liban’s hand. ‘Likewise, my friend, likewise’ repeated Liban as he seated himself. After the unusually long Somali salutation has ended, Mo commented ‘by the way, your head-butting of the filthy old clannist in the restaurant was superbly delivered. It reminded me of Zedan!’ They both laughed. ‘I wasn’t as good’ replied Liban and said ‘seriously though, I was naïve enough to address such a filthy clannist in a debate. I always thought better of my people in the Diaspora, but I guess I was wrong. Some of them are nonsensically full of hate’ ‘So sorry mate’ sympathized Mo ‘sorry you had to find that out violently. I should tell you brother; some of these people have serious mental delusions. You just have to learn to spot the sick ones’. ‘But it is hard to spot them, isn’t it? People who otherwise appear sane go nuts at the mention of clan politics! That makes it hard to be sure to know the Somali person very well, isn’t it?’ wondered Liban as Mo listened with concern. ‘Yeah, it is mate. Just thinking about it is depressing the hell out of me Lee’ responded Mo and suggested ‘you know bro, I’d rather talk about happy things about our community’, to which Liban agreed. Liban then signaled at the waiter passing-by. ‘We would like some drinks. Bring me a cup of spicy tea, please’ he ordered. ‘Make that two, please’ added Mo.
As they waited for their tea to arrive, Liban turned to Mo and questioning him ‘Tell me Mo, what do you really think of the UIC and its nationalist agenda?’ Mo confidently smiled to answer that ‘the UIC were absolutely superb and their nationalist agenda simply impressive!’ ‘Elaborate on that please’ asked Liban. And Mo more than willing to elaborate, took a sip of his tea and explained ‘I think they have performed a miracle like no other in the whole Somali history. I am also impressed by their nationalist agenda which is, unlike the prevailing politics of divisionism, based on the beautiful concept of United Greater Somalia.’ ‘But don’t you think this concept of United Greater Somalia has a potential to cause a regional friction between and Ethiopia?’ interjected Liban. ‘Perhaps it could cause a friction, but the fact is that the UIC or no UIC, Ethiopia always has a bone to pick with us. Trust me, this is not going to change until we bloody teach Ethiopia a historical lesson they’ll never forget’ Joked Mo. ‘I know exactly what you mean’ admitted Liban, ‘but the problem is, before we can even contemplate teaching Ethiopia such lessons, we need to build a strong and powerful nation. For the moment all remains a distant dream. And considering the infancy of the UIC, I would not be surprised if Ethiopia deliberates to nip our only hope for a state at its bud’ worried Liban. ‘Don’t you worry mate, Ethiopia and her American backers can do all they want but the will of the nation cannot be defeated by their attempts. Even if they overpower us temporarily, the truth is what the people want the people get. They would bring back the UIC to power; just Hugo Chavez has been brought to Venezuela’s rule by the people.’ declared Mo. ‘Let us hope so brother. But most importantly we must play our roles to strengthen the UIC’s power’ replied Liban. ‘Of course, we must play our role, which is why I wanted to meet you today’ agreed Mo. ‘Is that so’ inquired Liban. Mo, before answering, picked his small brief case which was beside the chair he was sitting on. ‘The reason why I wanted to meet you’ he began saying as he opened the brief case and took out a piece of paper and handing it to Liban, ‘is all written on this paper, if you would believe peruse through it.’ He stopped talking as Liban’s eyes concentrated on what was written on the paper.
The information contained in the paper was written in Somali, which Liban found easy to quickly read. Liban then placed the piece of paper on the table and raised his gazed to adjust his eyes on Mo. ‘Impressed and gladdened’ said Liban. Mo couldn’t conceal the happy smile on his face. ‘Thanks. Judging from the comment you made that day in the restaurant, I had a hunch that would it the information on the paper’ replied Mo. ‘You knew al that by simply hearing my comment, eh?’ teased Liban. ‘Absolutely’ said Mo as he sipped on his tea again ‘you know you can now a man’s character by hearing less than a minute of his impassioned expression?’ said Mo. The confidence with which Mo had commented made Liban chuckled. ‘I don’t think everyone has that ability to learn about a man accurately, except one has a unique talent, Mo’ remarked Liban. Mo has often heard many people making remarks similar to Liban’s. ‘Many have said that before, Lee. But one thing you should know about me should be is that, my profession highly requires a quick accurate observation and assessment, of prospective candidates to be approached. And talking of candidates, I think you are one I am most eager to recruit’ revealed Mo. Liban shifted in his seat with a slight uneasiness. ‘No, no!’ exclaimed Mo, ‘it’s not what you think. I can almost sense your uneasiness. Please, relax’ encouraged Mo. ‘No, I am OK’ replied Liban, ‘I must admit that I was a little tensed, but I am OK, really.’ Mo laughed and sarcastically said ‘thought I was in the KGB, eh?’
Mo, looked around to reach for his small brief case, picked it up and placed it on the table. ‘Lee, I am happy to reveal to you that I am no one to be feared at all’ said Mo while he unlocked the brief case, ‘in fact I am successful political head-hunter hired to spot people with potential in a future political arena.’ He took out his business card stapled to his resume, and slyly boasting ‘and for your information, some people even call me ‘a king-maker. Probably this is what had attracted the attention of the UIC to commission me.’ Liban glanced at the business card, subsequently allowing his eyes to wonder down the list of impressive employers Mo has worked for. At the bottom of the resume, two reputable references were listed. But, since Liban doesn’t possess any English literacy, he quickly fixed his glance on the business card on which he could make out ‘Mohamed A. Abdullahi’.
‘‘Mohamed A. Abdullahi’ that is your full name right?’ asked Liban. ‘Yes, that’s right, Liban’ replied Mo. ‘OK, Mohamed. I am sure you are good at what you do brother’ began Liban, ‘just I know one of you; it is only fair that I tell you one thing about me too.’ Liban paused. ‘Please,’ replied Mo ‘continue, do tell me.’ ‘Well, first of all, I am hardly the kind of person that could be seen as a candidate for any task, let alone a political one. I am basically ill-equipped for most tasks because I am poorly educated and trained. Shamefully, I could not even read the business card and paper you just handed me. So that rules me out as candidate you might wish to head-hunt’ lamented Liban. Mo attentively listened to what Liban to say, and realizing that Liban suffered from low self-esteemed. For half a minute, he remained silent as he went through his thoughts to assemble few words to encourage Liban. ‘Lee’ he began, ‘I think you have the wrong idea of what head-hunting means. ‘Head-hunting’ explained Mo, ‘especially the one I conduct, ‘pays no regard to one’s attained linguistic knowledge. No, its only interest concerns itself with one’s inner qualities and talents as a person.’
This definition of head-hunting relieved Liban enough as to ask ‘what inner qualities and talents do I have that you have so far noticed?’ ‘Believe me, enough, my friend, enough about you that I can reveal but on one condition’ replied Mo. ‘Hmm! And what might that condition be?’ wondered Liban. ‘On the condition that you accept my proposal, and in essence, become a member of political project I have been assigned. Of course that project concerns the advancement of UIC position within the Diaspora Somalis. And I pray that you would accept it. Would you, please?’ said Mo. Liban couldn’t believe that Mo thinks that he can be useful to the UIC in any way. He felt comforted by the way Mo seems to appreciate him. Never in his life has he met someone who considered him talented and useful. He felt as though Mo’s proposal would be his only opportunity, of taking part in a glorious Somali history in its making. ‘Yes! Of course I accept’ jumped Liban with his answer. Mo’s mood of anticipation about Liban’s answer quickly gave way to a triumphant cheer. ‘Good man’ shouted Mo, ‘you sure made me glad and made you a hero!’ Liban chuckled shyly at Mo’s dramatic reaction. Trying not to continue looking at Mo’s face, which seemed overwhelmed by a celebratory expression, he turned away. His eyes caught the waiter collecting some cups from a nearby table. ‘Oh, excuse me sir, could you attend to us when you are free?’ he addressed the waiter, to which the waiter nodded.
Liban desperately needed any sort of distraction that would keep off Mo from praising him, as this was reducing him to an embarrassment. Although the question of asking Mo what he saw in him tickled his curiosity, he just wanted the subject to change. He never felt comfortable when people commend him at such a level. But Mo, intending to motivate Liban even more, to the tasks in which he has accepted to partake, continued with his commendations. ‘You know’ said Mo, ‘I proud to declare to you that the UIC has gained a passionate and committed candidate to its cause. Tell you what; it is these two qualities – of passion and commitment – that you have that had impressed that day in the restaurant. The way expressed your opinion that day had showed what a good advocate you are for the things in which you strongly believe’ remarked Mo at the same time tightening his fist. Passion and commitment, thought Liban, I didn’t think I had them in me. ‘Thank you Mo’ replied Liban, asking ‘what is it that you want me to do then?’ ‘All in due time, Lee, I will tell you all in due time. But now I think the time for the evening prayer is due. We should head for the Mosque.’ suggested Mo. Although wanted to order another round of tea and could do with it, he couldn’t turn down an invitation to the Mosque. They stood up to leave, and Mo took out some money and threw on the table. As they walked out, Liban passed the waiter whom he had requested his attendance before and apologized for leaving so soon.
---
Chapter Four (Khadija & Friends) - Time to bring in the sisters, I believe
Khadija arrived home late at night from socializing some of closest friend. The night’s commute has exhausted her like never before. Naturally, she is an energetic young lady in her mid-twenties, who was used to traveling on the tube for hours on end. But that night, she was surprised that one train’s journey has taken its toll on her. Usually when she is that tired, sleeping becomes a problem and unwind herself, should had the habit of stretching herself out on the couch while she watches the news on the television. Soon as she made herself comfortable on the couch, she reached for the remote control and switch on the television. In the first few minutes, there was nothing that caught her attention. Then, at the bottom of the television set, the marquee began to roll a line that says: ‘Somalia’s UIC have gained more territory in and around Mogadishu.’ Hmm! She thought, the UIC is surely moving with rapidity it seems.
....To be continued..
