March
04, 2003
Cowards
die many times before their real deaths;
The
valiant never taste death but once.
Of
all the wonders that I yet have heard.
It
seems to me most strange that men should fear,
Seeing
that death, a necessary end,
Will
come when it will come.
—Julius
Caesar II.
Ii. 32
Cowards
pee too
Many
times before their real death
Because
of Somali cowardice
Because
of the beer too
I
peed that night many times
I
just could not help it
I
just could not sleep
I
just could not sleep off
My
Somali cowardice
Fuelled
by liquor
I
was up & about
I
just could not believe it
That
the Marehan dirty Darod dog of a despot
That
the Darod hyena Marehan refugee from
Garbaharay
Would
really have the guts
To
publicly execute
Gabere
Our
Hawiye Hero
My
Mudulod Wa’else Abgal agnate
In
Mogadishu
In
the heart of our Hutu Hawiye city
I
could not wait for the morrow to dawn
That
night
That
is why I was drowning my Somali sorrow
That
is why I was most definitely Mudulod
That
is why I was most emphatically
A
discombobulated Abgal
That
night
I
was supposed to teach the next day
At
Lafole College of Education
&
Where
Every
time that I had managed to forget
That
I am Abgal Wa’eysle
Where
Every
time
That
I had tried to be a noble Somali
And
not a clannish cur
Like
Dafle
A
dirty Darod dullard of a Dhulbahante
From
Las Anod
Like
Farah
Hussein Ghedle
Alias
Farah
Bedouin
Alias
Farah
Badaw
Would
remind me
That
I am truly hopeless hapless Hutu Hawiye
By
singing in my Hutu Hawiye ear
Samadeedow
Dabin
ba ku dhigin
O
lugu gu dili doanaa
Wa
dal-dalaad aan da’wane-lahayn!
O
you Hawiye
O
you Mudulod
O
you Abgal
O
you all
Who
are refuseniks of
This
blessed Darod Confederacy con job
This
Darod-Marehan-Ogaden-Dhulbahante-Revolution
Who
are recalcitrant
Who
are refractory
Who
are reactionary
O
you all Ka’aan deed!
O
you all
Who
refuse the goodness of our Darod Hero
Who
refuse the Darod leader of MOD
Who
refuse the greatness of Mahammad Siad Barre
Don’t
worry
We
have patiently prepared a snare especially waiting
for
you all
We
have patiently prepared for you a noose waiting
for
you all
For
you Hawiye
For
you Mudulod
For
you Abgal
For
you Eedor
For
you Majerten
For
you Ainanshe
For
you Dhayl
For
you Gabere
For
you all
It
is simply going to be a public picnic!
I
assure you all
Backward
primitive donkey-drivers
That
it is going to be a cinch!
Without
a hitch!
Without
a hindrance
Without
regret
Without
recrimination
Without
a lazy long-drawn-out court case!
Without
powwow
Without
repercussions
During
this dirty Darod disastrous donkeydom
Every
time
I
tried to remember
That
I am a Somali
My
colleague
Nuruddin
Farah
The
Darod Ogaden refugee
Whom
I harbored in Hawiyeland
Would
remind me
That
Afwayne is
Dirty
Darod
Like
him
That
Afwayne
Is
His
kind
His
kin
His
affine
His
maternal uncle
That
I am
Shi-shaye!
An
alien from Ali-yaale!
With
funny accent to boot!
That
I am
Alasow
in Afwayneland!
But
the worst offender of them all
Was
another colleague
Whom
I thought was Abgal
Mohamed
Ali
The
PE bugger
Who
ran away to Dubai from Afwayne
Whom
I knew from my green salad days
When
he was my monitor in the Koran School
Of
Ma’alim Musse
Who
turned out to be a dumb Duduble donkey
Who
battened on the leftovers of us Mudulod!
I
could not sleep that night
I
was sure
That
Afwaynye & his mad MOD
Would
not dare murder
Ainanshe
Dhayl
Gabere
Throughout
that long lonesome night
Cars
Dubbed
The
camels of the Marehan
Would
crawl
Slowly
Deliberately
dripping with clannish crude insolence
Through
War-dheegle
The
neighborhood of Gabere’s clan
Through
Hodan
The
neighbourhood of Ainanshe’s clan
Through
Iskuraran
The
neighbourhood of Dhayl
Cars
with ghetto blasters
At
full blast
Provocatively
Banging
out
Blaring
out
Belting
out
Blasting
out
That
provocative song
SAMADEEDOW!
O
YOU WHO REFUSE GOD’S GOODNESS!
That
dark long lonesome night
Mogadishu
was silent
Mogadishu
was eerily asleep
I
was
The
only one who could not sleep
The
only one whose clannish blood was boiling
The
only one whose clannish bones were aching
The
only one who was on a vigil
The
only one who stayed up to watch
The
only who could not sleep
All
the dives where I would drink were deserted
I
drove in my small red convertible Fiat 500
To
the Lido Night Club
Even
the whores & their Johns deserted the place
It
was eerily empty
It
was queerly quiet
I
went to the Lamamba Night Club
Where
I kept drowning my sorrow
With
one Heineken after another Heineken
Chasing
down the J & B
That
lonesome night
I
must have drunk
All
the booze
All
the beer
That
was meant for all my Mudulod clan
But
I could not get drunk
I
was as sober as a single-minded Mudulod Mujahid
Why
do Somalis drink so much
Somalis
drink so much
Because
their mouths are whores!
Into
which they stuff
Strange
rich stuff like
QAMRO
QABEEL QURUN QAAT QURUN!
Somalis
drink because they are so dumb
Somalis
drink because they like to deny
Somalis
drink because they can’t stand being Somalis!
Somalis
drink because they are at war with themselves!
Somalis
drink because they prefer fatude to reality
Somalis
dring because they are not Muslim
Somalis
drink because they are Munafiqeen
I
drank that night because I was angry
At
Afwane
At
Dafle
At
all the dirty Darod
Who
made me feel homeless at home
Who
made me feel like a motherless child
Far
away from home
Who
made me feel sing the blues
Like
an American coon
Who
made me sing this balwo
Who
made me feel like a nigger with no place to be
somebody!
In
that dark drunk dank lonesome night
I
would drive to War-dheeglay
Wandering
Wondering
Why
are the Hawiye
So
cowardly
So
quiet
So
asleep
So
seemingly uncaring
Why
could they not keep the vigil with me
Don’t
they know
What
is going to happen tomorrow at dawn
That
Ainanshe
That
Dhayl
That
Gabere
Were
going to be shot dead
On
the morrow at dawn!
Where
were our bovine Abgal
That
night
I
understood
What
my uncle Kulmiye taught me
That
the clannish claims of the Abgal can put me in a fix
But
that they can never get me out of a fix!
That
night
I
understood
What
the poet Tima’ade taught
When
he lamented
Dugsi
ma leh Qabyaaladi
Wahay
Dumiso moyane!
There
is
Neither
shelter
Nor
shade
Nor
refuge
Nor
haven
Nor
heaven
Nor
harbor
Nor
balm
In
the Somali KKK
In
Darod
In
Dir
In
Dayoos
Save
The
Apocalypse
The
Four Horsemen
Riding
Trailing
Death
Destruction
Pestilence
Famine
War
That
night
I
learned
When
you laugh
Your
clan merely pretends to laugh with you
When
you weep
Your
clan does not even merely pretend to weep
with
you
For
you weep alone
Like
Ainanashe
Like
Dhayl
Like
Gabere
I
could hear them all that night
Weeping
alone
In
their lonesome cells
Lonesome
like Jesus
In
their garden of Gethsemane
With
no one to weep with them
With
no one to watch over them
With
no clan to comfort them
That
night
In
Bar Lamamba
I
wept alone
In
my beer
In
my Heineken
I
wept
For
Ainanshe
For
Dhayl
For
Gabayre
For
Somalia
For
the cold comfortless fact
That
when you die
Your
clan doesn’t even pretend to give a damn
I
knew on the morrow
They
were going to be murdered
By
Afwayne
By
the Darod Pharaoh
That
is why I could not sleep
That
sleepless night
That
white night
At
four in the morning
In
Bar Lamamba
As
I was about
To
go out
To
drive
To
sally forth
One
more time
Once
more
On
my silly Sisyphean rounds of
War-dheeglay
Hodon
Iskuraran
When
one of the most prominent big bed-bugs of
Afwayne
Jili-‘ow
Bit
me!
Put
the bite on me!
By
grabbing me
By
the scruff of my drunk neck
Shaking
me sober!
Frog-marching
me across the street
To
my home
&
Throwing
me
Into
bed
Into
the startled but grateful warm arms of my wife
Rachel
Garber
—Madam
Pardon
me!
For
this rude & rough invasion of your privacy
Keep
this
This
your Abgal drunk donkey with you!
Put
him to sleep!
Lull
him to sleep!
Love
him to sleep!
Teach
him that
Your
love is stronger than Death
He
is to stay with you for the next 48 hours!
He
is under house arrest for the next 48 hours!
I
swear upon Allah
If
he ventures out
One
more time
If
I spy him
Once
more
In
War-dheeglay
In
Hodon
In
Iskuraru
I
shall have to turn him in
So
Afwayne can shoot him too
Along
with Ainanshe
Along
with Dhayl
Along
with Gabere
Togane
Is
that clear?
Answer
me!
—Jili-ow
Tonight
Of
all the Mudulod
Of
all the Abgal
Of
all the Somalis
It
is only
You
& I
Who
are awake
You
are Afwayne’s watchdog!
&
I
am a drunk dog!
So
Who
is going to save now
Our
Clansman
Our
agnate
Gabere?
—Togane
Go
to sleep
Neither
you
Nor
I
Can
do anything for Gabere now
It
is his kismet
It
is maktoob
It
is written
It
is fate
Afwayne
is his Nemesis
Afwayne
is his Nabsi
Our
agnate
Gabere
Gambled
Big
time
Like
Ché
He
shook the revolutionary Somali Tree
Gorgeous
glorious golden great fruits fell
Galore!
But
alas
It
is Afwayne who is now gathering them all!
It
is Afwayne who is now enjoying them all!
Good
night
&
Don’t
let
His
bed-bugs
Like
me
Like
Dafle
Like
Farah Hussein Ghedle
Really
put the bite on you!
Really
bite you in the butt!
Watch
out
Big
brother is now watching you!
&
Somalia
is now under the Darod Marehan boot of
Afwayne!
Mahamud
Siad Togane