Laba-X Posted January 8, 2008 ^^Sabti sarbad qooqan, Axad alif taagan Man, usha nalagu dilayo anagaa soo goosan jirney as well! Quote Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Jacaylbaro Posted January 8, 2008 walahi waa runtaaa ............ Quote Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Jamster Posted January 8, 2008 Funny thing is in dugsi days, we use to go and get the ullo from Deyniile!. Remember those Baashi? Washamsi wa duxaahaa walqamari...... ouch ouch! Quote Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
NGONGE Posted January 8, 2008 Originally posted by Northerner: ^^How many scars? Somali schools? You should have attended Saudi Schools! In UAE schools we got to fight back. I vividly remember the first time a teacher beat me. I was five years old and it was my first day in proper school. The previous night, I watched an episode of Dr Who. In it, the good doctor winked at someone. My five year old self was very impressed with this interesting gesture and spent the whole night and part of the following day trying to copy the Dr! I winked at everyone. The next day, in our Arabic class, I winked at my teacher (who was female). She was so offended by the gesture and came over and slapped me! Damn frigid prude getting offended by a wink from a five-year-old child. Of course, I being my daddy's son didn't take it standing. I sat down and cried a little. When no apology or explanation of her mistake was forthcoming, I picked up a book and threw it right at her. The hard end of the book hit her on the chest and must have winded her, for she cried her eyes out and stormed out of the class. She returned five minutes later with the headmistress and the male caretaker of the school. I had clamed down by then and realised the seriousness of my actions. But when she came racing at me and pointing fingers, my former rage returned and I attempted to bite her. The caretaker, who was a giant of a man (back then of course, now I'd wipe the floor with him) picked me up and marched with me kicking and screaming on his shoulders. He deposited me in the headmistress's office and stood guard by the door. The headmistress was a fair lady. She asked for my side of the story, which I quickly, loudly and rather pathetically explained whilst wiping the tears off my face one minute and crying my eyes out the next. She gave me a hug (I can still smell her perfume), some sweets and then told me how wrong it was to hit my teachers. She also asked me to come complain to her if I ever had a problem with any teacher in the future (she soon regretted that offer, I am happy to report). My second fight with a teacher took place when I was fourteen. It was with a Palestinian maths teacher who called me cabid (slave) when he caught me fighting with another student just before the class was about to commence. By then I had gotten used to beatings and hardly ever retaliated, but to be referred to as a slave was not something I could accept. When he called me a slave I naturally responded with the only acceptable answer in such circumstances. YOUR MOTHER! This really got him angry and he slapped me hard on the face. Some foolish urge within me made me start a long rant about how I do not tolerate racist people like him slapping me and getting away with it. Whilst having this rant and making all manner of crazy threats, he was still slapping me and shouting some threats of his own! The pain, the humiliation, the anger and rage were getting too much and I knew I had to do something. I was truly scared as I finally jumped on him and started flailing my arms wildly at him, in the hope that one of my punches might connect. One did! The bully retaliated with punches of his own. He was a fully-grown (fat) man and those punches of his hurt like hell. I grabbed him and bit him on the neck. It must have taken him fifty punches before he could get me off him. We stood eying each other, all bloody and bruised whilst the rest of the class were sat watching us in total shock (and silence). He looked ready to start punching me again. I was ready to bite him again. When he hit me and I tried to get hold of him, he hit me again and again. I suddenly realised that I was beaten and legged it out of the class. Neither my father nor the headmaster was angry with me. In fact, my old man was proud and told me that if he did not think it wrong, he would have gone in and beaten the hell out of that teacher (I think my mother forced him to mention how wrong it was to fight teachers). Ps I took my revenge by putting loads of sand in that teacher's petrol tank. Some other Sudanese kids from my class also smashed his windscreen. Getting beat in school is good for you. It helps you hold life long grudges. Imbecilic prude that does not like winking, bah! :mad: Quote Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
me Posted January 8, 2008 How did the encounter with headmistress and her sweet perfume influence your relationship with women? Quote Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Laba-X Posted January 8, 2008 haha! Miskeenta intaad naaska burburisood buug kala dhacday ayaad weliba hadleysaa, adba hadii xiniinyaha lagugu dhifan lahaa waad cabaadi lahayde! Quote Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Jamster Posted January 8, 2008 Ngone; From henceforth, I shall treat your posts different-- such an abused little kid; poor baby they emotionally broken; those Arabs Quote Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Blessed Posted January 8, 2008 ^Heh! You sound like one of those spoilt 'local kids' that Indian teachers fear. :eek: I'm glad most schools here, aren't like that now. I remember we had a perverted home tutor in Burco and my earliest memory was of him getting chased down the road by my dacas wielding mum. Quote Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
NGONGE Posted January 8, 2008 ^^ What Indian teachers? You're talking about private schools there, ayaayo. I went to school before the Emaraties started getting stingy and forcing all outsiders to send their kids to private schools. ps I got beat and I'm spoilt? pps Somalia does not have perverts in it. it's 100% Sunni Muslim. Stop spreading rumours. (It's ok Khalaf, don't listen to her). Quote Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Blessed Posted January 8, 2008 ^I was talking about the female teacher not the stubidh, evil man. LOL. As for my perverted teacher, sorry, Khalaf. I meant, Bristol. He wasn't Somali, or Sunni, or even, Muslim. There! Quote Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Malika Posted January 8, 2008 Madrassa was scary,we had to attend the only Somali madrassa in our area,the macaalin was merciless.I hated going there,so I spent most of my dugsi going years wondering into embassies collecting literature on then most communist countries embassies represented in TZ.I gazed into horrific images of the war in Iran& Iraq..China and its colourful pictures,chubby cheeked children in red..aah! I got away from being whooped as my mother used to donate rice/flour/oil etc to the macaalin and his co workers.. Quote Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
-Lily- Posted January 8, 2008 LOL, thank God I never attended such schools, positively medieval. Quote Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Faarax-Brawn Posted January 8, 2008 Originally posted by -Lily-: LOL, thank God I never attended such schools, positively medieval. So,You were never(ever) blind-folded i guess huh? You dont know what you missed Quote Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
-Lily- Posted January 8, 2008 What, they make kids feel like they were in A Chinese detention camp? :eek: I heard all the horror stories but never blind folding. The only person I was scared off was our dugsi teacher, but he would hit you with his stick on your hand/fingers if you were naughty, that was it. And even then I was soooo good I hardly remember being hit. It's a good thing beating kids is being reconsidered. Quote Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
