Flamboyant

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Posts posted by Flamboyant


  1. Waranka Ninka Kugu Dhufta Iyo Ka Kugu Dhaqdhaqaajiya Kee Baa Xun

    Rhoda A. Rageh — Abu Dhabi, UAE — 15 March, 2005

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    http://somaliland.org/opinions.asp?ID=05031501

     

    My great niece, I will call her Bahsan was barely a three year old baby playing in her back yard in the town of Hargeisa. A pleasantly plump girl with beautiful black hair, she was the beloved first child of my niece. She and her neighbor were playing hide and seek when the brutal bombs thrown indiscriminately landed on them. Her friend died instantly but my great niece suffered a serious injury which is still with her. My family ran west to Geed Deeble where the child was nursed with the bare minimum. Her long and painful journey ended in Holland where the horrified Dutch society displayed on television the contrasted images of her childhood smile with her brutally lacerated body. My great nice was young of course and remembers very little except the psychological and physical scars that are for ever daunting and haunting. Her mother lives with even more psychological scars. She was the one who was left destitute with a severely wounded child, the one who had to dodge the bombs with a bleeding child on her back, the one who had to care for such a child in Geed-deeble then Dulcad then Djibouti and finally to a merciful foreign land, the one who not only had to relive the horrors of Siad Barre's and Ismail yare's scars but to recount those horrors to the whole world through television and press interviews.

     

    My cousin who is also my namesake was a young housewife on the day that SNM mujahidiin entered Hargeisa. She was widowed at the tender age of 22 when her husband responded to a dutiful call to secure some cars for the Mujahidiin. He met with the ****** who killed him and left his body to the vultures. She too had to run with her two young orphans. At the time she did not know she was in her early pregnancy. She too ended her journey in Holland with three boys who will never visit the marked grave of their father.

     

    I was driving a car from one city to another in Holland while I was on vacation. Both my niece and my cousin were in the car with me. It was a beautiful Saturday, in the fall when the weather is neither hot nor cold. We were listening to some Somali music and both were happily singing. The music continued and I chanted with it, but all I could hear from my relatives were silent whimpers and demure silence. I looked at one and then the other. The song that was on was "Addigaan Hargeisaay kuu soo Halgamayaa." I turned off the song and focused on the road. In an apologetic tone, both explained to me that they remembered their lives in Hargiesa. Absorbed in my own thought and guilt I wondered if what made them cry was nostalgia for the good old days, or the severe treatment that had chased them to Holland. That incident happened 11 years after they survived the genocide. On that day, I realized that no matter how close I was to their plight I could never feel what they felt at that moment. Ismail and his cronies left deep unyielding scars on many Somalilanders. I consider my family the luckiest yet I will never forgive those who inflicted these tragedies on my family. The pain and memory is alive and hurting and we are not allowing Ismail to put salt on the wounds of our families. Wounds that he had never experienced and will never understand.

     

    When intellectuals from Somaliland like Abdi Duseh and Suleiman Nooh were in Siad Barre's prison to be hanged, we stormed state capitols and state departments to stop that but were never able to articulate our misery to the American government. Our cries were dismissed as disruptive. The systematic genocide of which Ismail and his cronies participated were called "internal conflict" until the day an American Lawyer Mr. Mike Posner read the most fantastic, well researched paper I have ever heard. He was a stranger to all of us but the story he read was our story, so intimate, so touching, so true and so thoughtful. I could not let that stranger slip away. He was so precious. I searched for his number and called him to: a) thank him deeply and b) to ask him how did he managed to get our story right? He accepted my gratitude but also said in a simple breath "that wasn't my paper. It was written by a Somali woman." I asked "who" in earnest. I was so proud to know that was Raaqiya Omaar who was then part of a team of Lawyers in an organization called "Human Rights Watch." Raaqiya has earned my respect for articulating what many of us couldn't, by putting in front of the powers the true story of our people. She was the first and most fierce voice we had and we were grateful.

     

    I don't read much of what Ismail says, but what has completely frightened me out of the land I love is when I hear the lack of culture and respect that a serious, intelligent woman like Raqiya Omaar got for serving her country. She left Somalia as a young girl, lived happily without scars yet has chosen to serve her people. When the Somaliland culture fails to protect the dignity of a woman like Raaqiya Omaar from a man who does not understand culture, how can many of us who love home find the courage to come back?

     

    If our heroes and role models are constantly tarnished by men who neither understand culture nor care about the fate of our land, how can we build a good moral society? If our destiny is in the hands of men who do not respect our wishes, how can we become part of rebuilding our country? We need to build our society from the grass roots, if free speech has become a crime, how can we feel secure in our land after so many heroes died for just that?

     

     

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  2. Hey just to let you guys know, I am afraid I am not the one responsible for neither the translation nor the commentary, this is solely the work of "Rhoda". I posted so you could appreciate this poem with me…

     

    I wish there were more Rhoda’s out there who could bring these precious poems to life for those of us that can not completely comprehend it in Af Somali..

     

    By the way, I am glad y'all enjoyed it!


  3. Hey Admin, I wanted to change my password for a long time now becasue I am still using that temp. password given to me when I first registered. I keep having to go back to my email to get the reggid password so i can log on, very tedious work indeed!..Ooh the things I have to do to come on this site...

     

    Anyways, why does it say 'You are not logged in' when I am obviously logged on?...and why can't I preview my posts before I post it?...

     

     

    I think this site just doesn't like me...

    :confused:


  4. This is a beautiful piece of commentary by Rhoda A Rageh...Thought I share it with you since I know how the Nomads in here appreciate good work when they see it..Enjoy!

     

     

    "Hooyo" By Mohamed Ibrahim Warsame Hadrawi And Sung By Mohamed Suleiman

    Rhoda. A. Rageh — UAE — 19 December, 2004

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    This song is a tribute to mothers, motherhood or mother earth. Some Somliland women view this highest accolade for women, motherhood as a tribute to man since mother (woman) is only remembered through the achievements of man. This otherwise touching song leaves the virtues of women remarkably untouched except after she gives birth to a powerful man, or she woes his mind. The question then arises: is that all she (woman) can be? Maybe or maybe it is what the poet desires her to be.

    To give life and nurture to another human being is indeed the highest honour but then where does the composer leave the entire female race and the other qualities they share with men? My mother, before she became a mother, was a poet, a multi-talented artist of the highest form, brave, generous, eloquent, resourceful hardworking kind and physically smashing, also a stern disciplinarian after she became a mother and a mentor after I became a student. Reading this poem, the word “mother†brings to mind all her qualities as a human being. I could not separate these qualities from the fact that she was my mother. Interestingly, the composer remembers woman only in her physical beauty and only in the eyes of the man in love or as the nurturing mother. More interestingly, this intensely devoted mother is honoured only when her grown son surprises the world with his impressive qualities. He (the son of the mother) is not portrayed in his childhood frailty. Does that mean mother is only worthy of praise when she succeeds in raising him thus? What happens with all her efforts even when that son doesn’t bring any worth to this world? Isn’t that effort to raise a disable or lost soul painfully harder for a mother? Doesn’t the mother who shares the suffering of her child equally important. Is she to be blamed for the failure of nature or faulty conception? This song moves me as it does others but in close reading it leaves much to be desired.

     

    As a child I was as much my mother’s daughter as I was of my father’s. My mother’s poetry sometimes surpassed that of my father. The Eden I was raised was as much of her hard work as my father’s. The gallantry, foresight, persuasive nature and creative genius qualities were all equally hers as well as my father’s. Clearly this poet’s sensitivity has generously cloaked women (mother) with his best honour; I would however be more flattered has the song brought to bear my mother the person as equally important. I still wish the poet would see my/our humanity as much as he sees my/our physical and nurturing self.

     

    Hooyooy la'aantaa Oh Mother! Without you

    Adduunyadu hubaashii The world would surely

    Habeen kama baxdeenoo Be perpetual darkness,

    Iftiin lama haleenoo. Devoid of light.

     

    Dadku uma hayaameen Folks wouldn’t reach

    Dayax heego joogoo Planets in heavens.

    Sida haad mafuuleen, Like hawks wouldn’t

    Xiddig hawd ka lulatoo Soar to looming stars.

    Hawo laguma gaareen With guided ambition Hubka laguma tureen Nay, wouldn’t have aspired at

    Cirka hirar ka muuqdoo Sphere in space.

     

    Ruux aad hagaysiyo usha mid aad u Verily one lead by your flawless

    haysaa, hilin toosan weligii, ka habaabi mayee Devotion the right path never would lose.

    Hooyoy adduunku halkuu maanta Oh Mother! Where the world is today

    Joogo adigow horseedoo Surely you paved the route.

     

    Intaad hanad xambaartee The many valiant you have carried

    Haaneedka siisee, Held dear on your bosom,

    Horaadada jaqsiisee Fed from your breasts

    habtay baan xisaab iyo, Are countless, and

    tiro lagu heleynoo Incalculable.

     

    Marka aad nin hiillo When your daring son awe inspire others,

    Laga baqo hashiisiyo You give birth to a fierce knight,

    Halyey diran dhashaabaa, Oh Mother! Thou are remembered.

    hooyo lagu xasuustaa

     

     

    Marka aad nin hoo-loo, When your charitable son

    Gurigiisa habaqluhu In whose house the destitute

    Isku soo halleeyoo, hayntiisa quudhoo Rely to feast freely, gives kindly to please

    Hor Illaahay geystiyo lama hure dhashaabaa Allah. In the presence of indispensable man

    Hooyo lagu xasuustaa Oh Mother! Thou are remembered

     

    Marka aad nin himilada When your son of purpose with clear vision,

    .Hilin toosan mariyoo hir markii la gaadhaba Achieving an objective sets another and leads his flock hither.

    Ku labaad hilaadshoo haga maatadisoo la higsado dhashaa baa When you give birth to an envied gallant

    Hooyo lagu xasuustaa Oh Mother! Thou are remembered.

     

    Marka aad nin hoogiyo ka hor tago dagaalkoo When your impartial son of foresight

    Garta hubin yaqaannoo xaqa hoos u eegoo Thwarts conflict through persuasion,

    Halistiyo colaadaha dabka hura bakhtiiyoo When halting the perils of war, he snuffs

    Ku hagoogata dhiigoo dadka kale hagaajoo Firestorm, and intercedes to lead humanity.

    Kala haga dhashaa baa hooyo lagu xasuustaa Oh Mother! Thou are remembered.

     

     

    Markaad hoobal caaniyo When in composition and song

    Hindisa farshaxanoo hab-dhaca iyo luuqdiyo Your famous artist

    Hawraarta maansada Creative and ingenious

    Habadaba hannaanshiyo Transporting through poetry

    Rabbi hibo u siiiyooo Reveals God given talent,

    Hal abuur dhashaa baa When you give birth to an endowed instinct

    Hooyo lagu xasuustaa Oh Mother! Thou are remembered

     

    Dumar iyo haween baa nolol lagu haweystaa Women Surely are the founts of life.

    Kuwa lagu hammiyayee Those much desired women coalescing

    Sida hawd caleen weyn Like concentrated forest,

    Rag u wada hammuume The clamour of all men,

    Ishu halacsanaysaa These beauties

    Hablahaaga weeyee Are thy daughters.

     

    Marka guur la haybshee When thoughts of matrimony invade

    Gabadh heego dheeroo Your poised lofty girls,

    Hoobaan la moodoo Like the boughs of a tree

    Karti iyo hub qaadloo Adept and stylish,

    Quruxdana ka hodaniyo Splendour abound

    Hufan laga aroostaa Unblemished duly wed.

    Hooyo lagu xasuustaa Oh Mother! Thou are remembered

     

    Hooyooy la'aantaa Oh Mother! Without you

    Higgaad lama barteenoo Spelling would have been inconceivable.

    .Hooyooy lan'aantaa hadal lama kareenoo Without you Mother, Expression would render unthinkable

    Ruuxaad habinoo One, whom you have not indulged,

    Kolba aanad hees iyo hoobay ku sabinoo Not seldom with lullabies fed

    Hawshaada waayaa One,you haven’t doted upon,

    Hanaqaadi maayee Surely won’t mature.

     

    Hoygii kalgacalkee Thou, are the house of adulation

    Naxariistu hadataay Thy abode is of compassion.

     

    Hooyo dushaadaa Oh Mother! On your back

    Nabad lagu hubaayoo One attains peace.

     

    Hooyooy dhabtaadaa Oh Mother! On your lab

    Hurdo lagu gam'aayoo Sleep is pure.

     

    Hooyooy taftaadaa Oh mother at your hem

    Dugsi laga helaayoo Shelter is most secure

     

    Waxaa lagu hal maalaa Grandeur! Oh mother

    Hooyo ababintaadee Thy cultivation is.

     

     

    Hayin lagu badhaadhaay Resilience and richness and

    Hogol lagu qaboobaay Tranquil Downpour.

     

    Gogol lama huraaneey Thou are boundless delight

    Dugsigii hufnaantaay Thy school is of moral rectitude.

    Hidda lagu arooraay Thou are root of ritual.

     

    Intaad hooyo nooshahay In thy existence, Oh Mother!

    Hambalyiyo salaan baan Compliments and salutation

    Hanti kaaga dhigayaa I impart upon thee.

     

    Hamrashiyo xaq-dhawr baan The cape of distinction

    Dusha kaa huwinayaa I drape around thee Oh Mother!

     

    Hooyo dhimashadaaduna Oh Mother! Your demise

    Hoogeyga weeyoo Is my eternal woe.

    Weligay hoggaagaan I will forever

    Ka dul heesayaayoo Sing on your tomb

    Hiyiga laabtaan In my head and heart

    Kugu haynayaayoo I will embrace thee prized

    Hengel baan u xirayaa I will bewail thee with every

    Inta haadka duushiyo giddi habar dugaaggee Winged and wild beast

     

    Ifka hibo ku noolow Live resplendently here.

    .Akhiro halkii roon Prosperity in the hereafter.

    Hooyoy akhiro halkii roon Oh! Mother Prosperity in the hereafter.

     

     

    Translated and commented by Rhoda. A. Rageh

    Rahmaa@yahoo.com

     

    Link:

    http://somaliland.org/ns.asp?ID=04122000


  5. To be honest with you, I haven’t seen this influx of young, educated handsome Somali men going back home for wives as being suggested here, but what I have seen is the following types of men that have gone back for wives:

     

    1. Older gentlemen that needed younger wives for personal satisfaction (we all know what that is..Uf..)

     

    2. Men that have failed in their personal lives and needed wives that could resurrect them back to life (drunkards, drug/khad addicts, basically your average loser Farax)

     

    3. Men that were relatively successful but had social anxieties and lacked self-confidence when it came to dating strong Somali women in their own peer groups and from similar background (Accentric, Nerdy types).

     

    In otherwords the men that are left for us sophosticated ladies here in the West, are the creme of the creme.

     

    So on a final note, I say good riddance to bad rubbish!!!


  6. I bet, everyone in here at least knows some one in his or her immediate or extended family that has diabetes. In my own family, my dad is diabetic. He had it for 10 years and he’s become quite the expert when it comes to this disease. I wish I could say same thing about the rest of my family members that are diabetic. From my fathers side, I have an uncle and an aunt that are diabetic. Also three of my cousins, and one of my cousin’s daughters have been diagnosed. From my mother’s side, my mom’s sister and her cousin are diabetic and also my cousin’s son has recently been diagnosed. They all have one thing in common and that is, they know very little about this disease and are all very careless when it comes to their diet and looking after themselves. I recently discovered just from talking to my Somali friends how rampant this disease is amongst Somalis. I was amazed to find out, that huge proportion of them had parents’ cousins and extended family members that had the disease.

     

    So, as a result of the above findings, get tested for diabetes if you notice that you:

    -Are unusually thirsty, hungry or urinating a lot

    -Lose or gain weight very quickly

    -Have blurred vision

    -Have tingling and/or numbness in hands or feet

    -Have slow healing wounds

    -Overweight

    -Have family history of diabetes


  7. This is tragic indeed. I couldn't bring myself to look at the photos because walaahi I know I'll just burst into tears. There are many sick children all over somalia/somaliland/puntland/xxland..and most of them die quitely without anyone knowing about their sickness and tragic lives.

     

    If we can some how put all our efforts in saving this poor helpless infant and for once put a side our differences and 'allegiances' I beleive we can make a tremendous difference!..saving this child is only the start...

     

    Thank you sis for bringing this to our attention..


  8. Here's for SOMALIREFUGEE..(Why is it all negative)

     

    somali refugee is killed

    somali refugee is murdered

    somali refugee is bureau of citizenship and immigration services'

    somali refugee is murdered in swindon

    somali refugee is a relatively recent addition to the ethnic diversity of the united states

    somali refugee is hardly easy

    somali refugee is even executed

    somali refugee is tallest on earth

    somali refugee is complicit in the september 11 attacks


  9. Woow, that's one hell of a story from what i could understand..

     

    At least she's learned her lesson.

     

    Thanks for posting it Ayaan..

     

    I know chat rooms can be very addictive and very dangerous place. There are all sorts of freaks lurking around ready to pounce and take advantage of the most vulnerable!

     

    I discourage my siblings from using it, and give them an ear full everytime I catch them at it!


  10. I don't know what you guys think but it is my believe that the Civil War has made all Somalies EQUAL in many ways; I have noticed for example how people who have no business being together are now neighbors and forced to live side by side(to the contempt of the Middle Class Somalies ofcourse)

     

    However, it hasn't always been like this folks!

     

    Back in the days when Somalia was Somalia, people often associated with people of their own kind and social status. Relationships where developed and harvested by people who shared same educational backgrounds, societal believes and life style. Society had an ad hoc structure that put like with like which amazingly worked. That is until tribalism, an evil destructive element that still haunts us today, showed its ugly head. This was when an individual was denied a job that he/she was more than qualified due to his/hers tribal affiliation, and another landed a job which he/she had no previous experience or relevant knowledge, or an entire people where harassed and victimized in there own country.

     

    This single handedly singled the downfall of the Somali society and the country as a whole. New relationships where formed along clan lines, you no longer drunk cocktails with people of same educational background and intellectual level but you sat and drunk tea with illiterate folks that could hardly right their own names, never mind anything else, simply because they where from the same tribe as yourself. One famous tycoon in Somalia started-off life as a chauffer for a certain individual, and within couple of years owned half of Xamar (he belonged to the right tribe of course)

     

    Anyways, the point I'm trying to make is that, the biggest losers in the civil war where the Somali Middle Class, these educated professionals and city dwellers lost everything and where forced to leave their homes and lives and start all over again as refugees in foreign countries. Where as the "rer badiyo" or the less educated poorer Somalies (the majority of Somalies) gained tremendously from the onslaught of the civil war.

     

    Today, the later enjoy all the benefits the West has to offer, free housing/education and social services. They live in large mansions at the expense of the taxpayers of their prospective hosts, and frankly life has never looked better for them.

     

    Consider the folks that actually had a life back in Somalia; they lost everything and had to come down few pegs in the social structure along the way. The contempt that the middle class Somalies have for these ex "jaaridio" and home-help not to mention the folks straight from "badiyo" is only too obvious. Imagine the indignity of living next door to your ex "jaariad" who now has a bigger house than you because she has 10 children so she gets the bigger house and bigger check!

     

    Ooh What a Life!


  11. Uhm..Interesting

     

    Somali Security Guards should follow suit! I'm sure they're being unfairly treated working an Goddly hrs etc...

     

    All the best to the cabbies.

     

    p.s , is weird but i've never ridden in a Somali taxi..i've been in taxies driven by Indians/ethopians/e-eurpeans etc but never, one driven by a somali brother!