Waa kuu yahay dee, ma ku kalaa jira. Yaad gaadaysaa??

waa xagee halkaasi. ma Rabassa? Mise Xaaji Saalax?

Chaste As It was Part One Whoever was occupying the solitary toilet, I thought, must be dead or obnoxiously insensitive. For how else could I explain a man sitting in a desolate toilet for over fifteen minutes now? As if he was reading my mind, a man way back in the slowly forming queue grumbled, ‘Is this cursed creature inside, mistaking this stinking toilet for a sauna room adorned with gold moldings, silk drapes and crystal chandeliers?’ the impatient man rubbed his stubble for a moment, and wagged his finger, admonishingly, at the mysterious occupant of the small pit latrine. ‘He must come out in the next thirty seconds or else, I am going to throw him out!’ he yelled. Giggles were traded. For all that time, I stood in front of the toilet in that dusty airport, waiting for my turn to come. The pain in my bladder was excruciating. But I kept reminding myself of the virtues of patience and empathy. Empathy to the man inside, who I had no idea what he was going through? I knew it was at such testing moments that temper is never allowed to reign. ‘Seriously, this man is (miraculously) giving birth to twins and is not relieving himself’, said a cheeky man, munching green leafs of Qat as he aimlessly strode past me. Subconsciously gazing at the handwritten sign that read ‘Toilet, no use of stones permitted’, I saw my old school in it. Twenty two years ago, we were the graduating class. Tales abounded, in the school, why Haybe was getting so many love missives lately, all of a sudden. For three years, he was the man every one of us pulled his leg. We knew he was at his wits end when it comes to finding a caring lover. As we dash to the post office to collect love letters from our ‘fiancés’, he was the lone member of the contingent who had naught to attend to. And God, what a hard time we gave him! He was the man all of us recited our valor to, and who listened to it patiently as Quresh, Ruqiya, Asli, Dulmar and many more girl’s secrets spurted to the floor. Nevertheless, that final year of our study, started off with many surprises. Of which, the deluge of Haybe’s serene life with letters was the most astonishing. Not only was he receiving a notice of a newly arrived letter (week in week out), but the names and locations on the ‘from’ side of the envelopes -plaid with red and blue on the corners- were equally startling. Unlike the old and boring names which we used to brag about, his were newer and fancier. And not all from the rural homes we came from. Ibtisam from Liboye (Kenya), Hani from Mogdisho, Taslim from Hargeisa, Ugbaad from Galcayo etc, etc. ‘Where the hell did you meet all these girls? And how do you rate them?’ we implored him for explanation, green with envy. For it was always more appetizing to be in touch with Hani than Quresh, we thought. They were not in short supply. Yes, tales were coming in multitude. Some said, he has been going around all these places during the school vacation; while others insisted many of these girls are pen-pals whom he never met. In fact, the girl from Liboye refuge camp was said to be his niece who fled the war in Somalia with her family. But that must be the chatter of disgruntled peers amongst us. I saw one letter from her, and I think it contained ‘macaane Haykal’. Now, we all knew there was no way Haybe would render his correct name to the girls. It sounded so frightening, and symbolized charcoal. So Haykal is the ‘nom de amour’ we understood. What was most infuriating for us was the content of the letters. Contrary to the ‘how is your health? Here I and everybody else is fine, and wishes you good health’ cliché-filled white papers from Dulmar’s and Canbaro’s (as if they were our family-doctor’s painstakingly checking on our sugar levels); his were embellished with pictures of hearts and scents of rose, with mellow and sublime ‘side tahay, qalbiga? Waxa aan xassuustaa…’ type uplifting passages. It was by accident that one of us found out that Haybe himself actually drafts the letters purported to have been sent by the girls and then sends to his address from another post office. He caught him red-handed while doing it. It was painful to learn the extent our reckless scoff impacted on his self-esteem. He finally confessed, tearfully. ‘I was sick and tired of being the deuteragonist all these years’ he sobbed. That closed the curtain on his luscious sources of self-worth. We vowed never to dishearten him again.

Chaste As It was Part One Whoever was occupying the solitary toilet, I thought, must be dead or obnoxiously insensitive. For how else could I explain a man sitting in a desolate toilet for over fifteen minutes now? As if he was reading my mind, a man way back in the slowly forming queue grumbled, ‘Is this cursed creature inside, mistaking this stinking toilet for a sauna room adorned with gold moldings, silk drapes and crystal chandeliers?’ the impatient man rubbed his stubble for a moment, and wagged his finger, admonishingly, at the mysterious occupant of the small pit latrine. ‘He must come out in the next thirty seconds or else, I am going to throw him out!’ he yelled. Giggles were traded. For all that time, I stood in front of the toilet in that dusty airport, waiting for my turn to come. The pain in my bladder was excruciating. But I kept reminding myself of the virtues of patience and empathy. Empathy to the man inside, who I had no idea what he was going through? I knew it was at such testing moments that temper is never allowed to reign. ‘Seriously, this man is (miraculously) giving birth to twins and is not relieving himself’, said a cheeky man, munching green leafs of Qat as he aimlessly strode past me. Subconsciously gazing at the handwritten sign that read ‘Toilet, no use of stones permitted’, I saw my old school in it. Twenty two years ago, we were the graduating class. Tales abounded, in the school, why Haybe was getting so many love missives lately, all of a sudden. For three years, he was the man every one of us pulled his leg. We knew he was at his wits end when it comes to finding a caring lover. As we dash to the post office to collect love letters from our ‘fiancés’, he was the lone member of the contingent who had naught to attend to. And God, what a hard time we gave him! He was the man all of us recited our valor to, and who listened to it patiently as Quresh, Ruqiya, Asli, Dulmar and many more girl’s secrets spurted to the floor. Nevertheless, that final year of our study, started off with many surprises. Of which, the deluge of Haybe’s serene life with letters was the most astonishing. Not only was he receiving a notice of a newly arrived letter (week in week out), but the names and locations on the ‘from’ side of the envelopes -plaid with red and blue on the corners- were equally startling. Unlike the old and boring names which we used to brag about, his were newer and fancier. And not all from the rural homes we came from. Ibtisam from Liboye (Kenya), Hani from Mogdisho, Taslim from Hargeisa, Ugbaad from Galcayo etc, etc. ‘Where the hell did you meet all these girls? And how do you rate them?’ we implored him for explanation, green with envy. For it was always more appetizing to be in touch with Hani than Quresh, we thought. They were not in short supply. Yes, tales were coming in multitude. Some said, he has been going around all these places during the school vacation; while others insisted many of these girls are pen-pals whom he never met. In fact, the girl from Liboye refuge camp was said to be his niece who fled the war in Somalia with her family. But that must be the chatter of disgruntled peers amongst us. I saw one letter from her, and I think it contained ‘macaane Haykal’. Now, we all knew there was no way Haybe would render his correct name to the girls. It sounded so frightening, and symbolized charcoal. So Haykal is the ‘nom de amour’ we understood. What was most infuriating for us was the content of the letters. Contrary to the ‘how is your health? Here I and everybody else is fine, and wishes you good health’ cliché-filled white papers from Dulmar’s and Canbaro’s (as if they were our family-doctor’s painstakingly checking on our sugar levels); his were embellished with pictures of hearts and scents of rose, with mellow and sublime ‘side tahay, qalbiga? Waxa aan xassuustaa…’ type uplifting passages. It was by accident that one of us found out that Haybe himself actually drafts the letters purported to have been sent by the girls and then sends to his address from another post office. He caught him red-handed while doing it. It was painful to learn the extent our reckless scoff impacted on his self-esteem. He finally confessed, tearfully. ‘I was sick and tired of being the deuteragonist all these years’ he sobbed. That closed the curtain on his luscious sources of self-worth. We vowed never to dishearten him again.

haye dee!

Waa jilibka meesha qabsaday ee Somaliland sheegta!

"...Dhagaxbuur qabkaagiyo marbaad, qul u hagoognaane" War xaggeed ka heshay gabaygan,saaxiib.

I am not a fan of tabliq. I used to call them "Itixaad Fulay ah". What is the point of preaching to people to pray and observe this and that, when women are raped next door. The real people who translate the book of Allah without if's and but's are Itixaad. Their grace and confidence tells it all. If circumstances in the world today don't fit their approach, it is not their mistake. The empire will crush. There is no reason to water down our beliefs to appease the US and its anti-islamic morons at the helm.

Originally posted by J.a.c.a.y.l.b.a.r.o: Waxaa maanta dhigtay Isbaaro bartamaha magalada Boosaaso ee Gobolka Barri koox dhalinyaro ah kuwaas oo ka cadhaysan dagaalkii shalay ee dhexmaray ilaalada wasiirka Amiga e Puntland iyo koox dhalinayaro ah ayna ku dhinteen ilaa saddex qof. Afnugaal War JB, why are you putting salt into the festering wounds of my people in Puntland. Isbaaro and budhcad badeed are the least worries. Tell your guys to vacate LAS CANOODa aad xoog ku qabsateen! If the Daraawish there failed me, It doesn't mean I am fine with your aggression. Si deg deg ah waa inaan Jilibkiina ugu sheegtid inay kalaabtaan!!

Wiil iyo aabihii baa iskaga kay qasmay. I think this one if for the father-Abu Geljire, You are right, saaxiib. Laakiin xeryaha may inoo kala duwaan. Oo dadka waa weyn meel la isugu geeyo.

If only I understood what you you are trying to say, Layzie G.( Lazy girl).

JB Ma qalad buu ilaahay qalad kale oo maqiiqan ku salidaad leedahay (carbaiga waa la igaga fiican yahayee!!) Emperor In terms of security, yes. I can prove it. On other matters, we will need a long debate. By the way, Arintii Laascaanood, iyadoo Cadde bil inuu ku soo celiyo loo qabtaybaan ogaayee, xagay ku danbaysay. Ma haddaad aayar joogi waydaan (Somalilaneey), anagaa aayar joogibaa la yidhi..

Originally posted by Emperor: ^Adigana howshaada waa I will be along with SL/Alshabaab/UIC/ONLF/Nationalists/Musicians/BobMarley and what have you, as long as you are against Puntland.... Whatever that takes Puntland down works for you... LOol Waryaa. War maandhoow maxaad igu sheegtay? If only you knew who my best friends are! If only!At no point did i insulted clan or puntland, unless by weird transtivity of logic you don't associate the TFG with one qabiil or geographic area. Taas anigu kuma jiro.

Emperor I thought my adeero's film inuu gubtay waa hore. When he participated in the fighting in Hargeisa. Do you get me now. Shame on him too. haday shame u hadhsanayd.

At least Isbaaro looma dhigane waa la xidhay uun soo ma aha. In puntlnad, waa la af-duubay oo muqaahidda hebel baa lagu haystaabaad maqli la hayd!!

Emperor; adiga hawashaadu waa reerkayagu ha noolaado!!reer hebel ha dhacaan!!

Lily Contrary to your assumption of a harmiouns nation leading to a peaceful country, the evidence doesn't support you. In Ethiopia, the hostility among Tigre V Amhara, Amhara V Oromo, Oromo V Tigre, Sidama V Wolayta, Somali V highlanders, Afar V Issa, Gambella V Tigre etx etc is to the proportion of the somali inter-clan feuds and ten times more. Yet, the country is functioning because the regime managed to rule (with or without the conseusus of the people). In Uganda, the NRA managed to rule for so long not because everyone there is pleased with it. In kenya, Kikuyus and Luos don't see eye to eye.Yet, kenya is not in disarry , save for the recent hiccup. What is my point? If you are expecting the internal somali clan fueds to end first, for a national consensus to emerge, you are mistaken. Somali conflict has assumed an ideological and political perspective over the years. The clan thing is only the top soil. One of the warring groups must win (for the ideologiacl differences are irreconcible) and then rule the country. Even with the clan thing, one clan must be percieved to have won. For if we keep on associating leaders of the protagonists in the conflict as carrying the whole of their kins, we will always be labeling the opposing gropus as clans. To me, the TFG is not one clan and the courts are not one clan, either. at least not now-if we leave the beginning out of the equation. It is after one side wins, that whoever has won will be challanged by a new group of forces coalescing aroung common agenda. Unfortunately that has been the route toward the formation of a functioning states and nations. Somalia is not an exception. The only problem is a big neighbour-on the payroll of the US, wants to make sure the "existing equilibrium of opposing sides" stays as it is. Ethiopia is not there to enable the TFG to win and rule the country. I have amble evidences, but I don't think i should go into the details, here. Ethiopia is there to ensure the anarchy previals. That leaves one side out of the calculation- the TFG ever winning. With no popular support and with Ethiopia sabotaging it, its chances of success are nil. Can the other side win? They can overrun the TFG in few days (if Ethiopia is not there). When they do that, the whole country will come under their rule. (if some clans are angry i don't care. Kenneth Arrow's Impossibility therom dictates you cannot please everyone in social decison making). Then, a new struggle will start. The struggle of shouting for democratic elections, popular participation etc. The new rulers will be influenced by the somali public, by Arab friends and by some among themselves to allow democratic elections. That way a true national assembly will be elected and the country will start the healing process. Should some jump to say, why not negotiate? I will say because that is wishful thinking. The TFG is not free, and to some extent the courts are influenced. Although i believe they can take decisions more by thhemselves than the hostage's in Baidoa. As to your last comment, don't worry too much who claims God is on his side. Unless you are an Iconolcalst-hell bent on opposing anything, the writing in the Quran is clear. It is upto you to follow or not to follow. Why have red eyes about a clerk reading it. If you see a flaw, point to it. If you think, it doesn't suit you, leave and join whichever fiath pleased you. But most Somali;s are happy with their Islamic idintity. Who are you to challenge them to change course? The talk of insulting messengers and clerks (when actualy you have an issue with the teachings itself) is disinginous and hypocratical. Finally, the big acrimony is whether the future Somalia should look to the west or to the east for cultural guidance in its inevitable social transformation. I say to the East; without shunning the good things we can take from the west.

kkkkkkkkkk!Assuming how old I am?

Geel_Jire; war horta mid kale oo isna geela kula leh,ma aabahaa baa?? Abu-Geljire? One of you need to change the name. Now,Nimanku maxay u jeedaan? Is it only because tolkiibaa taliya that is the only motive for siding with aggression? Bal arintaa iga soo update garee. Mid la yidhaa General Duke isaga iska daa, waa xaafadee!!

Slowly I am getting to know. Waan arkaa in rag bakooraddo wataa fadhiyaan. Kaalay, qabyaalad cadbaa lala fadhiyaa meesha!!

Some people think it is a measure of thier intellectual profundity to chant after the slogans and labels of the Whites. Who in his right mind would not be bitter and angry otherwise? Wax unbaa loo dhiibi oo markaasay la waalan: you are intolerant,you are this and you are that! You may not know peasant;But those you seem to hold with high esteem might be laughing at your naivity. No one is infuriarating like someone who repeats after others with little or no effort to analyze the dose of mantra's he is fed to spew out! I know I got a bit hard on the brother;but i needed to put up a robust defence for what I think is right!

Dhubad; waa canaan gacal saaxiib. isku si baan wax u wadna.Let the red and checkered headscarf fly over you and don't put down the gun.It scares the hellout of **********'s and dayday's!

The Abraha & Atsbeha...Odd coincidence both names are Tigre names. It is this and much more dheg-xumo, that will never allow a good Somali to live with Xabashi's no matter hard he tries.

I got this comment posted under the headline of a topic about the death of Adan Hashi Ayrow-in nazret.com ( a Tigre website). The comment gives a clue as to the hostility and biblical beliefs of the Xabashi's. Something we all knew for a long time, but those who flirt with new found love for xabashi,in Somalia, had no chance to see. Infact, the new theory of this group is there is no hostility between Ethiopia and Somalia. Well, at least this man is not mincing his words and is not hiding his intentions. Does he? "Fight the jihadists! Stop ignorance and sissy political correctness!Osama Bin Laden's brother has proposed building a bridge across Mandab Strait on the Red Sea, to link Djibouti to Yemen. The 28.5km bridge will cost around $70bn,and will probably be called, "The Jihad Bridge". Let them build it, Ethiopians will call it " The Abraha & Atsbeha Bridge", and will use it as the gateway for the prophecised destruction of the Kaaba in Mecca. Sooner or later this has to happen." 3rd Force

disregard this thread.