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NGONGE

A voyage through the Somali political wilderness

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NGONGE   

Our valiant warriors defeated the tyrant's army. We were going to claim our land and dignity back. We were going to return our country to its former glory with peace, equality and justice.

 

But then our leaders had a squabble and each group broke down into several different militias. Come to think of it now, we were not really that united to start with. Now the militias broke into even more fragments. The age of the warlord was here! But those in the far north decided to cut loose and declare their own state. How treacherous.

 

There were at least five warring groups that kept on multiplying and now we did not know how many groups were there. They divided the loot amongst themselves and ruled their areas with iron fists. Some of the players from the olden days were still there but were fading rapidly. Despite the carnage and confusion in the entire country, the most noise was emanating from the capital. Warlords sprang out like wild mushrooms. They had the funniest names and all swore their undying love for the dying country.

 

The world tried to intervene but was repelled and sent packing with the added insult of corpses being dragged around the streets. A new entity was established further north. Unlike the one before it, this one swore it is still part of the original land and was only here to keep the peaceful parts in trust until the motherland was back on its feet.

 

The snowball of madness kept on rolling and getting bigger and bigger by the day. Like Penelope's suitors, the warlords were stripping the country from all that was good. An Islamic group appeared in the new entity and tried to establish its power. It was defeated by our very own odysseus. People thought him an average warlord and never paid him the respect his political astuteness deserved. Meanwhile, the various reconciliatory meetings continued in far off lands. A president was elected! Salvation was finally here. Some warlords rejected him and others merely paid him lip service. The snowball kept on rolling.

 

Neighbouring countries and others with a stake in the final outcome kept on interfering. The land of a million madmen produced yet more warlords. Odysseus sent his troops to a dusty town and challenged the secessionists. They huffed, they puffed but they let things be.

 

The reconciliation meetings carried on. The neighbouring countries continued their interference. Lots were drawn, lotteries were arranged and Odysseus came out on top. A new president was elected! Salvation was finally here.

 

He picked a young, intelligent, neutral, untainted by the blood of millions Prime Minster. People danced in the streets. Warlords hugged warlords. The secessionists stuck two fingers up at all and sulked in their corner. They were ignored by all.

 

Odysseus was going to fix this broken glass. He gave the warlords ministerial jobs. He instituted a parliament in exile. But the acid test was all about setting foot in the great old Villa. Could he ever do it?

 

His new group of minsters suddenly had new foes. A group of Mullahs that were previously ignored and dismissed as men of god suddenly became men of war. There were mutterings about the CIA and terrorist groups. The warlords took a gamble and lost. The Mullahs became the Islamic Courts Union!

 

Drunk with the joy of power and supremacy, they challenged Odysseus! Several reconciliation meetings failed. The Mullahs had god in their side and were not going to give up power. They boasted of their strength. They boasted of their numbers. They claimed the whole nation was on their side. But, more importantly, they bragged about god (again) being on their side. They overextended themselves and challenged a powerful neighbour. They made claims and questioned counter claims. Things came to a boil; the neighbour was given a chance to physically interfere. Odysseus won. The Mullahs were no more. He entered the sacred Villa. Salvation was finally here.

 

The situation became very stale. Unlike in the past, this time the fighting had only two sides. On one hand there were the defeated Mullahs and their fans and on the other there was Odysseus and his neighbouring supporters. You were either with them or against them. But the land of the million mad men does not do two sides.

 

The leaders of the Mullahs went to the enemies of the invading neighbour and sipped Ethiopian coffee as they dreamed of a way out of their predicament. The old warlords were split between the two sides. The plot thickened.

 

Then a hero came along with a caravan to jump on and we cast our fears aside and we knew we could survive. But he had no control over the resistance. A new group appeared out of nowhere with the aim to liberate the country from the dirty clutches of the infidel invader. They could not use the Islamic excuse alone this time. They had to have a better selling point. They called themselves the young ones.

 

The young ones, darling we're the young ones. And young ones shouldn't be afraid, so the song goes. They fought, they bombed and the harassed the enemy. They burned; accidently killed innocents and they recruited. They were young, they were full of life and they were not afraid. The Americans woke up from their slumber and sent a few random bombs. Some of the leaders of the young ones (who in actual fact were older than pharaoh himself) were killed. But the young ones were never afraid.

 

Meanwhile, the hero and his companions finished their coffee and decided to end this ridicules charade. After countless loss of life, after endless threats and disagreements and after foolish decisions, they finally realised the only way to fix the dying country was to sit with Odysseus and thrash out a deal! Political genius at its best.

 

The young ones and their ancient leaders rejected such abject surrender and vowed to go it alone. Amongst all this drama Odysseus found himself cornered, lost and confused. He had already sacked his young, intelligent, neutral and untainted by the blood of millions Prime Minster. For he (the Prime Minster) was said to be old, foolish, partisan and a corrupt man who was responsible for the deaths of thousands. A white knight in shining armour was chosen as Prime Minster. He too was said to be a good man, a neutral man untainted by the blood of millions. Salvation was finally here.

 

But the young ones would not let it be. They declared everyone who was not on their side as persona non grata. They were going to liberate the land and resurrect the long awaited Islamic nation. They were young, full of impossible dreams and the energy to realise these dreams. They spread around the country like wild fire and started to win back towns one by one.

 

 

Odysseus stood and watched silently. Could he have given up or has he got another Trojan horse up his sleeve? The prize is slipping away from him. He stands to lose the sacred villa, but, more importantly, he stands to lose fair Penelope. What will his next move be? His foes are gaining strength by the day and are even recruiting fighters from far off lands. As a demonstration of their newfound strength it is said they were behind the attacks on the secessionist north. Who, by the way, and we only mention it here to display the waning power of Odysseus and his fans, have finally reclaimed that dusty town they lost all those months ago. However, it is not all song and dance for that entity either. They got bombed. They had their election registrations disrupted and they are facing secession within secession in the form of Makhirland.

 

Such is the story of the land with a million madmen but as the hero keeps on telling anyone that will listen, salvation will finally come. :D

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NGONGE   

I had to do something to be heard, ninyaho. Xiin and Duke have taken over the entire screen with their little fight (and I still have no idea how that one started). :D

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MZanzi   

^^LOL @che

seems like no one is interested to contribute subject to keep it going, I personally had runs out of ideas, but, also feels funny to keep on writing something when no one wants to respond.

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NGONGE-It is started about Qabil (Duke's majority being superior to the rest of Planders in this case Goldogob) , turn to some homo sh*t (The general who riding horse), and I don't remember the snitching thing got into the mix. I gave up on trying to come the situation. Duke I know,but I don't know what took over Xiin.

 

And then, the lieutenants (Red n Protocol) joined while Nephtys was going Alla huugayee ba,ayee Xiinow ninka iska dhici. Ma maanto saan yiri. War Muslin ah ahow, ninkaan *bleep*..My gal Lazy showed up, but nothing major on her part.

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NGONGE   

^^ Lazy does not count. That one is a female version of A&T (saaaxiib ma leh). :D

 

Was that really it? I thought it went deeper than that. No such small thing would usually rile Xiin up in such a way!

 

ps

Afro, share your ideas. There will always be someone that will reply (probably even me icon_razz.gif )

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MZanzi   

Ngonge I don't really have sufficient words of my own to respond to your post,

 

 

I'm a One liner lol..CAQLI LIXSAAC Ma maqashay xiligaa unbu caqligeega so dagaa

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NGONGE-I think it is the extent of deep rooted Qabyaalad that bothered Xiin. Xiin was under the impression that Duke was like most Somalis is clanish upto degree, and his support for Yeey was mainly based on Qabiil loyalty and pursuit of power. He didn't think Duke look down one of his "own".

 

Lazy has followers and few good friends, of course who could forget the haters icon_razz.gif

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Paragon   

They had their election registrations disrupted and they are facing secession within secession in the form of Makhirland

Liar.

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To some extent your analyzes is quite accurate. You should have touched the 2 entities up north's internal skirmishes/wars, little bit further. Not the wars between the two entities, but ones between Yusuf and Adde on one hand and Egal vs Tuur on the other hand. I believe that should be part of the wild voyage too.

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NGONGE   

^^ True. I just wanted to show how cyclical Somali politics is. There is always a new guy (group) on the scene and they are always hailed as the best thing since buttered bread.

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Kashafa   

^ The spontaneous Islamic Awakening that exploded onto the Somali political scene in 2006 has been unprecedented in Somali history. Every 'vaunted group' before them was built on one thing and one thing only: Qabiil. Tolaaaaaaaay iga soo gaara. Anaka vs Ayaka. Anakaa aa iska leh (insert city name, Kista, Xamar, LA,)

 

The Sons of Somalia, however, be they Dhalinyarta or others, draw their members, funding, and support from every tuulo and every degmo in the Horn of Africa. Kasoo bilaw the NFD ilaa Zeylac. Kasoo bilaw Jigjiga ilaa xeebaha Barqaal. Theirs is a Pan-Somali grass-roots campaign that speaks to the nobler qualites of the Somali spirit: Gobonimo. Geesinimo. Gacal'nimo. I am my Brother's Keeper. Deenta waa deentayadu. Dadka waa dadkayagu. Dalka waa dalkayagu.

 

It is this defining quality, the absolute rejection(and destruction) of Qabiil power, that distinguishes them, fundamentally, from the rest of qashin-qob-rabble you mentioned(SNM, SSDF, USC, SNF, RRA).

 

Try as you might to discredit these thoroughbreds, to look for barely visible chinks in their armour, they represent the dawning of a new age in Somali history: The Age of Islamic Governance and the ruthless unequivocal destruction of any individual, group, or entity that is allied, in the slightest, with Ethiopia.(No ifs, no buts)

 

Af-macaanays iyo abooowe macaaan meesha ma taalo. Through the crack of the bullet and the roar of mortar, nimanka Amxaaro adoomo oo noqday will be brought to their knees untill they say "Abeed, Abeed"(Amharic for I surrender, I surrender).

 

This prospect frightens not only the 'usual suspects'(dhbhlifs, mooriyaaaan, clan elders, seperatists), but it also terrifies the spineless jago-doon peaceniks who are now allying themseleves with the TFG/Tigray alliance, promising soldiers for a 'unified' Yey/Sharif Tol militia(Lol, how the mighty have fallen).

 

Marka, this major quibble notwithstanding, it was a entertaining read.

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NGONGE   

^^ :D

True and true. But the young ones were not always young, saaxib. They had Awyes, Indhacade and the 'hero' as part of them. Where are those people now? Are they part of the dhalinyaro? In circles we go, leaving fragments as we pass is the message (be it Shabaab, Courts or TFG). Can you dispute it?

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