AFWAYNE'S SWAN SONG 

by: Mohamud Siad Togane  

togane@progression.net

February 26, 2003

AFWAYNE’S SWAN SONG

When Farah Gololay saw

Through the pomposities

Through the pretensions

Through the bullshit platitudes

Through the crazy conceits

Through the dirty Darod deceits

Of Afwayne

Of his Darod mad MOD minions

Gololay summed up the sorcery of Siad Barre

By quipping:

Sing hosannas to his Holy Highness Afwayne

Or

Report to the local lockup in Afgoye

Or

Shut the fuck up!

As far as I know

Gololay had not foreseen Afwayne

As an albatross

That will be around the neck of Mandeq forever!

Look at how now

General Mahammad Siad Barre

(May Allah have mercy on his sorry ass!)

Better known to my generation as

Afwayne

Straddles Somali history

Just like colossus

Just like Hitler

Straddles German history.

A German journalist recently wrote:

Hitler “has played a trick on us.

This Hitler, I think

He’ll remain with us

Until the end of our lives.”

I have no doubt

That you can say

The same thing

About our Somali Hitler

About our Afwayne

About our Darod Druid.

All the current warlocks

Who are warring now

Over the carcass of Mandeq

Who are now contending

For power

For pelf

For bililiqsi

For the throne of Afwayne

For the adoring throngs of Afwayne

All

All of them

Are Afwayne’s zombies

All of them

Are following

The script

The unholy writ

The unholy gospel according to Papa Doc Afwayne.

This is how well

Our teacher

Our father

Of all knowledge

Of all wisdom

Knew us silly Somalis:

When the Darod Elders

When the Darod Betters

Paid Afwayne a visit

In Kenya

Right after the flight of defeated Darod

Right after the Fall & the Decline of the dirty Darod

Right after the overthrow

Of the Darod Mad MOD regime

Of tyranny

Of terror

Right after the Darod defeat

&

Their Hutu Hawiye hangers-on

&

Their Eedor pack-donkeys

Right after the Darod were driven out of Mogadishu

Right after the Darod Overlords were overwhelmed

By the headless Hutu Hawiye hordes—

Flood waters

&

Headless Hutu Hawiye Hordes

Who outnumber you overwhelm you—

Afwayne said to the Darod Elders

Afwayne boasted to the Darod Betters

“Why do you look

So dejected

So downcast

I

For one

Am not angry with the heedless headless Hutu Hawiye…”

“What do you mean

What can you mean

Have you already forgotten

That you had to flee

In a funk

In a tank

With your Darod Marehan tail between your legs

So humiliated

So humbled

So humped

So harried

So harassed

So tormented

So tortured

That you hadn’t even had time

To finish eating your spaghetti

Because the black Hawiye hoards were

Swarming

Like locusts

All over the walls of Villa Somalia

How could you have forgotten all that so soon?

How can you be so forgetful

As forgetful as Lethied  lass

Who is now ready for sport

Who is now raring to rock & roll

Having completely forgotten how she forswore fucking

In her difficult pregnancy

In her labor

In her travail

The Sorcerer of Somalia replied

“Despite all that

I still maintain

I still say

I am not angry with the Hutu Hawiye

I hold no grudges

I hold no resentments

Against the hapless hopeless Hutu Hawiye heathen hordes

Since I had left behind in Mogadishu

My junior

My minion

My apprentice

My namesake

My spiritual son

My secret weapon

Mahammad Farah Aideed

&

Enough weapons

For the Hawiye hordes

For the Hawiye Ali Baysten

To wipe each other out

Enough weapons

To keep the Hawiye busy killing each other

Till hell freezes over

Till kingdom come

So I say

Lift up you dirty Darod fallen fugly faces

&

Smile

&

Laugh

&

Enjoy like I am

&

Rejoice with exceeding gladness

Watching from this safe distance  

The Hutu Hawiye Horror Show

Playing in Mogadishu now

According to my Darod deft directions!”

Afwayne was right

He was right on

For to this day

The Hutu Hawiye are still at it

They are still busy

Butchering each other

Murdering each other

Maiming each other

Mutilating each other

And right now

It is a toss-up

It is too close to call

As to whether the Hawiye will first

Run out of American & Russian bullets

Or

Run out of Hawiye bodies

To butcher

To murder

To maim

To mutilate

You may say whatever you want

About that old dirty Darod devil

Afwayne

Abihi Gar’ayada

But you may not say

That he did not know his three Somali stooges:

Darod

Dir

Dayoos

That he did not know his Hawiye

That he did not know his Darod

That he did not know his Eedor

That he did not know us Somalis

Afwayne was a Somali

Afwayne was Somalia

Afwayne is Somalia writ large

There is a little Afwayne inside me

Screaming to get out!

There is a little Afwayne inside every Somali

Screaming to get out!

The French existentialist philosopher

Jean-Paul Sartre

Observed

“Hell is other people”

The people of Baydabo say

Hawiye Na-red!

Hawiye is hell!

And they are so right!

Afwayne’s mad MOD was Darod

Ergo

Darod is hell too!

There is no doubt about it

We Somalis have become each other’s hell!

Once Afwayne opined

“When we Somalis all go to hell

Allah will haul us all to hell

In a street car called

Qurun iyo Qabeel!”

What Afwayne forgot to add

Is

“And I

Il Buono Condottore

Il Duce della Somalia

I

Afwayne

Shall be driving the street car called

Qabeel iyo Qurun!”

For still

Right now

The politics we Somalis practice

Hither in the Diaspora

&

Thither back in what was once our homeland

Are

The politics of Afwaynisssimo

Without Afwayne

Which is what the French call

Le politics de pire

The worst sort of politics

The politics of

“The lesser breed without the law”

The politics of

Kaffirs

Who are

“Half devil

Half child”

Our Ma’alim

Our teacher had taught us very well

Our Master

Our Guru Afwayne has been teaching us Somalis very well indeed

For over two decades now!

&

What Baron Samedi Papa Doc Afwayne had taught us so well

What Afwayne is still teaching us Somali zombies so well

From the grave

Is

Far graver

Far worse

Far more menacing

Far more grievous

Far more damaging

Far more lethal

Than this endless pain

Than this endless suffering

Than this endless exile

Than this endless bickering

Than all that Afwayne & his apt pupils had inflicted upon us silly Somalis

That is why today

Mogadishu

Our erstwhile capital of the Somali nation

Is clannish hell visible

Bearing Dante’s invisible hellish inscription

Lasciate ogni speranza voi ch’entrate

“All hope abandon, ye who enter here.”

Is there really no more hope?

I remember

About a decade ago

With Ahmed Isse Awad

In Montreal

I remember

Uncle Ambassador Abdullahi Holif

Telling the prominent Canadian politician

Honorable Ed Broadbent

Who once led the National Democratic Party

Who was then directing

The International Centre

For Human Rights

&

Democratic Development

I remember Holif bearing witness

That

“We Somalis are still Muslims!

We dare not abandon hope in our Allah!

We will always have hope

Even unto Death!”

Yes

Our Muslim Somali hope was

Tried

Tied up

Beaten

Bruised

Busted up

Broken

Buffeted

Pummeled

Prostituted

Pimped off

Deceived

Denounced

Disappointed

Deferred

Denied

Denuded

Defaced

Defecated upon

But never ever

Defeated

Or

Destroyed

Or

Extinguished

Or

Exhausted

But

“Hope is a good breakfast

But a poor supper!”

&

According to the late Hyena of Garbaharay

Who had our number

Who knew

What clannish buttons to push to punish us Somalis so

What clannish buttons to push to drive us silly Somalis

Until we go ape

Until we go amuck

According to our Papa Doc Afwayne

We Somalis have no more hope left

For Afwayne

In his swan song orated:

After I am through with Somalia

After I am through with Somalis

There will be no people left

For anyone else to lord over

They will all be

Gone

Gone in my trail of destruction

Gone with my whirlwind

Of flood

Of fire

Of ferro

Of fuoco

Of force

Of fission

Après moi le deluge!

Après moi le feu!

Finally

It seems

That we Somalis are finally offering

On a silver platter

To our enemies

The Ethiopians

The Kenyans

All the Somali lands and seas

That they have always coveted.

Afwayne

Our Lord

Our Master

Our Father

Our Teacher

Drove his point home

With this chilling prophesy

With this powerful parable

With this parting shot

With this swan song:

One day

The Hyena of Garbaharay

The tribal totem of the Darod Marehan

Was stuck with the unenviable task

Of keeping a Milchcamel & her Nursling

Away from each other

Apart from each other

The Hyena of Garbaharay

Got a huge headache

From running to & fro

Like the devil he is

From running after them

From running in pointless circles

Of confusion

Of consternation

Of cussedness

When he was about to give up

When he was about to throw in the towel

When he was about to collapse

In hopeless defeat

In helpless despair

The Hyena of Garbaharay hit upon a brilliant beaut

He ate the udder of the Milchcamel Mandeq

He ate the soft succulent lips of the Nursling too

Mandeq the Milchcamel took to her heels

To Jamal Jaan!

&

The Nursling took to her heels

To Futobe’eed!

The Hyena of Garbaharay collapsed

In helpless laughter

Peeing  uncontrollably all over himself

Rejoicing in his jubilant jocosity

&

Sang this soaring solo:

With what will the poor Nursling suck!

From what will the poor Nursling suck!

To make sure

That every silly sorry-assed Somali got the message

Afwayne signified so:

I am sure many of mindless minions will come after me

Contending to rule Somalia

Not asking themselves

With what will they rule

From what moral authority will they rule

It will be as entertaining as Cinema Hamar

It will be as laughable as two completely bald kaffirs

Fighting to the finish

Over a cussed comb they have no use for.

When I now ponder upon the Somali fate

When I now consider our sordid Somali affairs

When I now cast a cold eye

On Darod

On Dir

On Dayoos

On their current crazy Somali Scene

In Eldoret Kenya

&

Everywhere else in the world

I swear to God

I hear Afwayne

Laughing in his grave

Laughing at the shenanigans of his Sharmootos

Ina Sad Salad Boy

Hasan Abshir

I swear to God

I hear the Hyena of Garbaharay

Splitting his sides with loud laughter

Peeing all over his silly self

Beside himself with high hilarity

Choking

Chortling

I told you so!

There is no one more stupid than Somalis!