We
Somalis have failed
to listen
to learn
the lesson the Mennonites have been trying to
teach us
for the last fifty years:
to love God and to love each other.
That is why today the Somali nation is homeless
that is why we Somalis have made our home
Somalia
into a hell to flee from
Not only have we Somalis failed
to listen
to learn that lesson
we Somalis have also killed
on July 16, 1962
one of the Mennonite teachers
who came to teach us Somalis that lesson:
Merlin Russell Grove.
Right now
in my mind's eye
in the village of Mahaddei Uen
I can see Merlin
I can even hear Merlin
singing
as it was his wont
the best definition of Islam there is:
Perfect submission, perfect delight
Visions of rapture now burst on my
sight
Angels descending bring from above
Echoes of mercy, whispers of love.
Perfect submission, all is at rest
I in my Savior am happy and blest
Watching and waiting, looking above
Filled with His goodness, lost in His
love.
This is my story
This is my song
Praising my Savior all the day long.
This message of the Word of Love
This message of the Prince of Peace
This message of Jesus
that
Merlin and his fellow Mennonites have been
trying to teach us Somalis
for the last fifty years
is no different
from the message
Weel-waal too tried to teach us Somalis
ages ago.
Will we Somalis ever listen
Will we Somalis ever learn
their message of
"What Makes Men Dwell Together in
Peace."
Weel-waal
King of the Darod Bartire tribe
one of the rarest ornaments of the Somali race
called for a powwow with his braves
and addressed them thus:
"I want you to return to your homes
I want each one of you to kill the best lamb of
his flock
and come back on the morrow with the part of
the animal
that makes men brothers or enemies."
When the morrow dawned
one brave brought the royal shoulder
so-called because it is served
to royalty
to heroes
to honored guests
another brave brought a good saddle of mutton
another brought a leg
another brought the ribs
another brought the liver
but when Omar brought out the gullet
they all blurted out
in dismay
in disgust
in chorus
"What an egregious insult!
What a heel!
What a heller!
What a hellion!
What an awful hellhound
to offer an offal
to the father of us all
to the king of us all."
But Weel-waal smiled
saluting Omar
as the wisest sage
as the savviest son of a gun of the
Somalis
saying
"Omar is right-on
The gullet is the symbol of selflessness
The gullet is that part of the animal
that makes men either brothers or enemies.
The gullet is no greedy Habar Gidir
The gullet is no absurd Abgal
The gullet is no habarkintir
The gullet is not habarkuulay
The gullet is no deceitful Darod
The gullet is no Qaat-crazy Eedor
The gullet receives the food first
but the gullet is most selfless
like my mother who always ate our leftovers
the gullet chooses to eat last
the gullet does not hoard the food
the gullet does not hog the food
the gullet is guileless
the gullet is guiltless
the gullet is not greedy gut at all!
The gullet passes the food down
the gullet downs the food
sending it down
down to each and every part of the body
awaiting
all the while
Patiently
for her fair share.
O man of greed and graft
go for it
go the distance
go to the mat
go for broke
go to the gullet
consider her ways and be wise.
So long as men share
fair and square
as the gullet
they dwell together
like us
in peace
in unity
and behold
how good
how pleasant
it is
when brothers
like us
dwell together
in peace
in unity
but how can there be peace & unity
when one SOB seizes power & pelf
eating alone
gloating
slobbering silly & sick
bloating with pride
playing with his seven insatiable bellies of
unbelief
in the Grace of God
growing fat
growing forgetful
growing slick
growing as slick as seal
hording
hogging
living
high on the hog
looking like the pig he is
oinking like the pig he is
rooting up his own grave with his own snout
like the pig he is
while the awful long sharp nagging needles of
hunger
are leaching life out of his neighbor?
Omar!
The more words I weave
the more miserable you make your mien,
why?"
"Alas, My King!
The praise you have just heaped upon me
belongs to my fifteen-year-old lass
Sophia
who prevailed upon me to bring you the
gullet!"
"Glory be to God in the highest!
There is no power nor strength nor wisdom
nor glory save in God!
Then Sophia is the wisest sage of all of us
Somalis!"
Montreal,
September 2002
Author's note:
I dedicate this poem to my beloved teacher,
Mary Gehman, who taught this Caliban
in the benighted bush of Mahaddei more than her
language: who taught me
how to mine the meaning and the marrow of
poetry.
M. S.
Togane
Caliban, "a savage and deformed"
subhuman character, appears in Shakespeare's Tempest.
A representative manifestation of wild untamed
nature,
Caliban is "a natural man." He learns
to speak--not only to curse--but to rise to lyrical poetry.
Shakespeare accords him some of the loveliest
lines of the play.
In the end he recognizes his folly and express
his intention to improve himself in a religious metaphor:
he will "seek for Grace."
