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NGONGE

An Accidental Legend

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NGONGE   

A reworking of an old Somali tale

 

 

As her son lay in bed and coughed his heart out, Mariam looked down at him and was wondering if this is, yet another, harmless cold like all the ones he used to suffer from in his childhood. Her mind strayed a little and she was, suddenly and irrationally, worried that this might be something graver than a mere cough. As the awful thought crossed her mind, she instinctively, like all mothers the world over, smiled and started stroking her son’s head.

 

A week passed and Elmi (the son) was still coughing! He was always tired, always coughing, always sweating at night and seemed to be suffering from chills and fevers! Elmi had tuberculosis (TB).

 

By now, his family had recognised the symptoms and knew how contagious this disease was. They discreetly took him to a doctor in the neighbouring town and were given medicines and told to isolate him from people until his condition improved (or didn’t!).

 

The family were presented with a great quandary. No other disease loses you friends, isolates you from loved ones and shuts down your business like TB does. At the mere hint of a sneeze or a clearing of throat, everyone within the vicinity panics and hurries to gargle with all sorts of oils and bleaches in the vain hope of arresting the disease!

 

Elmi’s family were business people and had a respectable standing in the community. His parents’ advice and counsel was sought out by everyone and his siblings were the cream of the town. Even Elmi himself was looked upon as one of the best young men of his generation, most able and articulate. But all of that would have meant nothing against the destructive menace of TB.

 

The family knew they would have to concoct a story as to why Elmi is always locked up in his room and the type of illness he suffers from. Miriam and her husband gathered all their children round and presented them with the situation. They told them about the impact such news would have (if it ever leaked out) on their status in the community. Everyone was certain that Elmi was going to make a full recovery and they only wanted to dream up a temporary story to distract people.

 

Elmi had a younger brother called Abdi. This Abdi was the cleverest, finest and most articulate young person in that town. He was also a hopeless romantic and was forever making up little ditties about unrequited love and heartbreak. This Abdi, as expected from someone of his ability and disposition, suggested that the family pretend that Elmi is madly in love and that this love is what’s making him ill!

 

The family, of course, rejected this silly idea and told him to come up with something more sensible. But, as they spoke to him and rebuked him for his silly suggestion, this idea was growing on Abdi. He thought of all the famous love stories and sighed as he tried to invent one for his brother. The story, he knew, had to be one of an unreciprocated love. The girl had to be a local girl but not one that personally knew Elmi!

 

The next day, while hard at work, Abdi saw a girl that radiated a peculiar sort of beauty. She was not attractive and, in fact, many people would argue that she was ugly. However, Abdi, with his bard eye, saw something in her that made his poetic juices overflow and helped him create his first ever full love poem! The girl, like a modern Dona del Toboso, blissfully went about her business unaware of the poet, the impact her presence had on him or how she inspired him.

 

That day, Abdi went home and read his poem to his family. They were all very impressed and proud to be related to such a wordsmith. Abdi took that opportunity to repeat his suggestion about the love deception. He promised them that if they agreed to his idea, he would write a poem each day talking about his (brother’s) unrequited love and how he (Elmi) has locked himself in a room until his beloved would agree to momentarily let the rays of her gaze fly in his general direction. The family were again; impressed with their son and the eloquent way he presented his argument. They all agreed that his was an ingenious idea and that most people would be so appalled with this grown man’s love troubles to worry about the holes in his misleading story.

 

 

In the weeks that followed, Elmi coughed, Abdi created poems, and the family spread the news about Elmi’s love-induced suffering. Elmi’s cough aside, everything else worked out beautifully. The entire town was fascinated with this debilitating love story and wanted to know the name of the girl. They soon found out her name and all flocked to her house to have a peek at the glorious beauty that made poor Elmi ill.

 

The girl’s name, of course, was Hothan. Although she had heard Abdi’s poems she did not know that she was Elmi’s supposed object of affection. On that day when the crowds were gathering in her street to view her, she was coming out of the house to hang up some washing. As she hung up and stretched out the washing, she started humming and singing a couple of Abdi’s words! The crowd, who were still trying to have a good look at Hothan, were outraged by her impertinence and cold heartedness. Some started shouting over to her and tell her to stop torturing the poor man. Others started begging her to have mercy on him; ‘his only crime is that he loved you’, they cried.

 

Hothan was shocked to hear all these people shout and point fingers at her! She dropped whatever washing she was carrying and quickly darted back into her house. The crowd hung around and stared at the windows. They kept on shouting and making accusations at the twitching window curtains. But, apart from the odd latecomer, they all soon dispersed and left Hothan, inside her house, and wondering when her mother would come back to extricate her from this infuriating fix!

 

Another two weeks passed and there was no improvement in Elmi’s condition, no shortage or decrease in Abdi’s fine poetry and no let up for Hothan and her family from the usual crowds milling outside her house. Poor Hothan, like her supposed lover, was under house arrest! She begged, she cried, she denied it all and even pretended to be mad. But the mob was on Elmi’s side and thought her evil incarnate.

 

One day, a heavily disguised Hothan managed to leave her house and sneak unnoticed past the rabble. Once she made sure she wasn’t being followed, she made her way to Elmi’s house. She was determined to confront this Elmi and ask him why he decided to drag her name through the mud in such a way!

 

When Hothan reached the house, she saw Abdi walking out with his hands in his pockets and whistling quietly to himself. She stopped him and asked him to take her to Elmi. Abdi, not recognising Hothan under all that disguise, shook his head and told her that Elmi is only interested in Hothan. He tried to soothe her by saying that this is not a personal slur on her beauty or marriage-worthiness but that Elmi’s infatuation does not allow him to see the beauty of any woman other than his beloved Hothan.

 

Hothan thought it unfair that this liar is getting all kinds of beautiful women throwing themselves at him as a result of his big lie, while she has to run the gauntlet of an angry mob when she did nothing wrong. She sighed to herself as she listened to Abdi telling her about all the girls that come daily to offer themselves to his ill brother. Abdi tried to console her some more but she cut him off and theatrically removed her disguise to reveal the face that, whilst no Helen of Troy, still launched a thousand poems.

 

Abdi was flabbergasted! She demanded to see Elmi. Abdi panicked. She insisted that she see Elmi. Abdi almost gave in to the power of her plea. As he turned around to conduct her to Elmi’s room, he remembered the TB and the reason for this whole lie! He could not tell her about the illness. He couldn’t explain the reason for the lie either, so he decided to convince her that Elmi is really in love with her and that seeing her might kill him. He told her that the family don’t agree with Elmi’s madness and that they would do everything they can to restore her good name and reputation. He begged her not to see Elmi and promised her that, soon, Elmi will recover his health and leave her alone.

 

It was the turn of Hothan to wilt under the strength of Abdi’s argument. She agreed to walk away and, like the good-hearted girl she always was, wished Elmi a speedy recovery. The dignified way in which Hothan dealt with the situation, her kindness and the sparkle in her eyes throughout this encounter, moved Abdi and inspired him into writing another classic love poem. It was a poem so great that before the sun had set on that day, the entire population of the town were either already reciting it or listening to it.

 

By the following morning, Hothan’s family had heard the poem and found out about their daughter’s visit to the stricken man’s house! Her brothers wanted to kill him and her. Her father was on the verge of disowning her and her sisters, secretly, hated her for driving such a sensitive man to such a sorry state. Meanwhile, her mother was quietly plotting and trying to find a way to secure a respectable future for this wretched child of hers. A decision was finally made. Hothan is to be married as soon as possible. The husband shall be anyone but Elmi.

 

 

On the following Friday, Hothan was wed to her new husband. To her utter joy and total delight, this new and hastily unearthed husband, turned out to be everything she ever wished for in a man. On that night, as the new husband unwrapped the subject of all those great poems, Mariam was weeping as she covered the body of her dead son!

 

Hothan went on to have a great married life. Elmi’s name lived on as testament, symbol and icon of unrequited love (and uncured TB). While Abdi, like all real and unassuming heroes, went back to obscurity and the only occasional praise he got was usually the result of his more illustrious brother’s reflected glory. He wrote poems of better quality and greater wisdom than the ones he wrote in the name of Elmi, but when the people compared them to the sacrifice of giving one’s life in the name of love, all his poems were found wanting.

 

In a house several streets away, the fake love bug struck again...

 

--------------------------------

 

Never say I don’t do sentimental claptrap and emotions. :cool:

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Ibtisam   

^^^where have you been all my life. mmamiya, great story. kind of sad, yet something else. i enjoyed that.

 

maybe i should try and write one, steal your spot light :D no never, tell another one, smile.gif

 

cheers

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Castro   

All the leaves are brown and the sky is gray

I've been for a walk on a winter's day

I'd be safe and warm if I [read Ngonge's tale]

California dreamin' on such a winter's day

 

Thank you saaxib.

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Well come back saaxiib smile.gif . You’ve been missed.

 

But I refuse to fall in to your literary trap as I admire the legend whose story you managed to circumvent (outwit) :D . His illness was love, and not a TB; the poems were his, and not Abdi’s. They (poems were) were just few snippets of Elmi’s literary genius; there was more wisdom that resided in his heart than he could possibly offload.

 

Good to see you back thuo.

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STOIC   

Sometimes ago, before I read your story, I was sitting in an Epidemiological class. There was a young rosy cheek American Senior student who was giving her presentation on Tuberculosis in Africa. This young American student verbally branded to me that Somalia was the most hit place by TB in the whole world . I could not disagree with the young girl. I have witnessed the social stigma attached to this disease by our community. This social stigma fueled the spread of this disease. Treatment of any disease is achieved by acknowledgement first. Remember this is a disease that spread through the air, if you don’t acknowledge it then you can’t stop the spread, Can you? To effectively treat this disease a six-month supply of drug is needed. According to the World Health Organization the incidence case of TB for Somalia is 411 per 100,000 pop/year. Each individual with an infectious TB will infect an average between 10 to 15 people every year. I know, as a community whatever that spreads with word of mouth is more credible than a statistics; I would love to urge people in here to be an active member of the fight to stop the spread of this disease.

 

PS This is to Abdi,Nice guys finish Last :D

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Ah, so u've been away writing! I've been doing some myself, surprisingly there's a Somali cast. Anyway, will read this when I have time; am sure it's good. More, even though I haven't read it. :D

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NGONGE   

^^ A slow clap? How kind of you!

 

In other news:

 

Gates pledges £500m to tackle TB

 

Last Modified: 27 Jan 2006

Source: ITN

 

Microsoft founder Bill Gates has pledged £507.1 million to fight TB after kicking off a £17.4 billion campaign to tackle the disease.

 

Tuberculosis kills one person every 15 seconds and is widespread in Third World countries.

 

Mr Gates said: "This is a very tough disease. It is going to take all of us - private sector, the pharmaceutical companies, philanthropy and governments in countries that have the disease - to participate as well."

 

 

Joined by Chancellor Gordon Brown and Nigerian President Olusegun Obasanjo at the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland, Mr Gates called on world leaders to back the new World Health Organisation action plan.

 

The campaign aims to treat 50 million people and prevent 14 million deaths worldwide over the next ten years.

 

Mr Brown intends to put the case for new cash to fight the disease to next month's meeting of G8 finance ministers in Moscow. "If 2005 was the year of commitments, 2006 must be the year of delivery," he said.

 

"That's why, when the G8 finance ministers meet in Moscow in only a few days time, I will put on the agenda how we can meet the commitments to fund this specific plan."

 

Brown also said he would propose to the G8 ministers expanding a debt relief agreement made last year to some of the world's poorest nations.

Source

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Castro   

^ Was this your inspiration? Indeed a contemporary and relevant twist to an old favorite tale. I could still hear Elmi's cough, see Abdi's satisfied grin and feel Hothan's confusion. I hardly ever think of a love story when I read about death, disease and destruction. But that's what being a talentless schmuck is all about.

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Ngongow, it was a indeed an interesting read but TB wasn't the only cause of Cilmi's death. First of all, Elmi was possessed by Shaydan and if anyone loved Hodan, it was this Satan who followed him from the sea that morning. Elmi could not possible be in love with her because he only seen her once and exchanged few words as a customer/client.

 

Depression was the major cause of his death and if you read Elmi's heeso/gabayo, you will see that he was really depressed and that affected his bility to(function) work, sleep, eat,enjoy life and take care of himself.

 

Possession of jin-->deprression->Malnutrition->TB=his death

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Coofle   

Please stop killing Somali fairy tales...Tomorrow you will start denying the existence of the well known love story between Araweelo and oday biiqay...

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