Anaga oo ku hadlayna magaca Guurtida qaydar, waxaan si weyn u cambareynayna falkii foosha xumaa ee ka dhacay magalada Goljanno, loona geystey hawl wadeenadii haya’adda sama-falka ah, uuna horkacayey Mohamud Ahmed Suleiman Geedeeye.

 Waxaa wax laga xumaado ah dad maslimiin iyo tolba ah oo u adigaaya maato jilicsan geerina qarka u saran, in loogu abaal gudo xabad iyo argagax. Waxaana arrintaas u aragnaa arrin dano gaar ah laga leeyahay, masuuliyadeeda waxaa iska leh shakhsigii iyo dadkii ku gacan qabtay in falkaas xumi dhaco.

 Haddan nahay beesha reer Qaydar gude iyo dibadba waxaan Guddiga iyo odayaasha bahweynta reer Goljanno ka codsanaynaa in si degdeg ah loo baadho wixii ka danbeeyey falkaas foosha xun, ciddii ay ku cadaatana la hor geeyo sharciga, tolkana la soo dhex dhigo.

Alla mahad leh

Mahadsanidin

Guddida Golaha Qaydar

I found the resurgence of piracy ominously coincidental, considering the hype surrounding radical economic transformation in South Africa. My frustration with the quality of debate in our country is that playing the man is a much more appealing sport than playing the ball; but back to that later.

Ishan Tharoor, writing for Time, aptly described Somali pirates as “not desperate bandits, experts say, rather savvy opportunists in the most lawless corner of the planet”.

Why would fishermen turn to pirates and carry out the most daring attacks, claiming close to $200 million in ransom?

Since the collapse of the government in Somalia in 1991, Tharoor writes, “Somali waters have become the site of an international free-for-all, with fishing fleets from around the world illegally plundering Somali stocks and freezing out the country’s own rudimentarily-equipped fishermen”.

He quotes a UN report, estimating that about $300 million worth of seafood was stolen from the coast of Somalia annually. Sounds familiar?

Global giants use their power, experience and networks to marginalise locals and plausibly explain their unfair advantage as globalisation. African governments respond more enthusiastically to international investors than to their own people – who are patient and understanding, but can turn nasty when disillusioned.

The International Crime Commission and the International Maritime Bureau reported in 2014 that “piracy has reached its lowest levels in six years, with 264 attacks worldwide in 2013, a 40% drop since Somali piracy peaked in 2011”.

The active intervention by the international community, meant the Horn of Africa could breathe again; briefly. Regrettably, the intervention was merely to protect their cargo and crew or contain Al Qaeda, not to help the people of Somalia.

Now, piracy seems on the rise again in Somalia (and President Donald Trump is talking tough), after it was tamed from 2014 as a result of international patrols. Ransom payable got unbearable and maritime traffic became too risky or too expensive to insure, rich nations of the world got involved to stem the piracy in Somali waters.

This, however, did not address the core of the problem: securing the interests of the little guy in Somalia, toiling daily to support their family; someone like Ahmed Mohammed Ali.

This 27-year old fisherman from Durduri told Jessica Hatcher of Al Jazeera in October 2015 that he had had to abandon fishing because although anti-hijacking patrols had stopped piracy, the big illegal fishing boats had returned. These were the same boats that had triggered piracy in the first place.

In Africa, our leaders tend to react more enthusiastically to the World Economic Forum or Fitch or the World Bank.

Roads get resurfaced and services improved when the Commonwealth comes to town; but when a service delivery protest erupts in a small village, the leaders get dismissed for their ingratitude or are accused of being somebody else’s political pawn.

When black South Africans complained about Black Economic Empowerment (BEE) not delivering broad-based benefits, some in the ruling party got so defensive. Phrases like “there is nothing wrong with black people getting rich” or even “I did not struggle to be poor” were echoed.

As factually valid as these were, they missed the point: the majority were asking for their share of the gig, and they were feeling left out.

Twenty-three years since 1994, high levels of unemployment, income inequality, inept state-owned enterprises, pedestrian economic growth and cracks in the ruling elite are conspiring to breed more defensive tactics among the well off.

Just as Somalia does not need a partial international patrol as intervention, but decisive solutions to the problems that are elbowing ordinary fishermen from their rightful maritime economy, South Africa could do without the name-calling, scapegoating, political demagoguery, recycled concepts such as radical economic transformation or the attack on white monopoly capital.

It needs a South Africa First mindset, which prioritises results and lasting broad-based socio-economic impact.

* Kgomoeswana is author of Africa is Open for Business, a media commentator and public speaker on African business affairs, and a weekly columnist for African Independent – Twitter Handle: @VictorAfrica

** The views expressed here are not necessarily those of Independent Media.

The Sunday Independent

The election of Mohammed Abdullahi Farmajo as Somalia’s president has inspired optimism for the future of Somalia.

The stage seemed set for a ceremonial rubber-stamping of the status quo. Some of the new parliamentarians, many of who came through a corrupt process supported by domestic and foreign elements, started to arrive late and, at times, act unprofessionally on the floor.

Key officials, including the speakers of both chambers of the Federal Parliament, were awkwardly seated under the stage where ballots were being cast for the most important election in Somalia’s history. And the event itself was being conducted in Halane district, a geographical space that is physically located in Mogadishu, but in reality is entirely a different world – it is a type of a “Green Zone” for UN agencies, diplomatic missions, and private security.

Unlike what the beneficiaries of the status quo were expecting, February 8 has turned out to be a day of triumph for a nation that has fallen into a state of hopelessness and a day that would permanently be engraved in Somalia’s history. Against all odds, and in line with the public sentiment, Mohamed Abdullahi Mohamed (Farmajo) was elected president of Somalia.

But what caused this public euphoria, and what does it mean in the grand scale of things?

The will of the people

The inter-clan and intergenerational jubilations across Somalia, the neighbouring countries and within the Somali diaspora demonstrate that the new president’s reputation transcends clan loyalties and that he has a clear public mandate. Both sides of the divided city of Galkayo celebrated, as did the city of Beledweyne. In both of these cities, brothers and sisters have been kept apart due to inter-clan hostilities.

Make no mistake: From the public perspective, this is a time of reckoning. This was not just a referendum against domestic evils of corruption and pathological looting of public resources and national assets. This was the roar of a nation that reached its tipping point.

First, it was a total rejection of clan-based federalism that kept Somalia dizzied and in a downward spin of discord, violence, and hate. This was a system engineered by foreigners and institutionalised by the “Yes, Sir” corner of the Somali political elite.

Second, it was a rejection of the injustice of the so-called 4.5 clan power-sharing system, which clusters all Somali minority communities into a less-than-a-whole-clan category – in other words, a flagrantly discriminative system that sidelines all minority groups, regardless of population sizes, and penalises them for never having their own clan-based militias.

Third, it was a rejection of all types of foreign exploitation and foreign domination. Especially, against the subservient role that the current class of Somali politicians have succumbed to, in relation to Ethiopia and, to a certain degree, Kenya.

Fourth, it was a rejection of all those too familiar foreign-orchestrated and funded pseudo-reconciliation powwows that almost always end up with phoney handshakes in Addis Ababa. It was a public demand for genuine, Somali-led and funded national reconciliation to close a bloody chapter that corroded “Somalinimo” - the collective sense of inclusive patriotism.

Fifth, it was a rejection of what I call the tripartite of squanderance – the United Nations Assistance Mission in Somalia (UNSOM), the African Union Mission in Somalia (AMISOM) and international NGOs that gulp down almost all of the funds contributed by donor nations to help Somalia get back on its feet.

Somalia under trusteeship

In its current status, Somalia has been under what looked like, felt like, and smelled like “trusteeship” without any trustee accountability.

The implementation authority was divided between and Intergovernmental Authority on Development (IGAD) and UNSOM, which would give the tacit, and sometimes flagrant, support to politicians who would never question or second-guess their decisions vis-a-vis the interest of their nation.

Somalia became a lucrative project and the only way to sustain that project was to keep it on perpetual dependency on handouts funnelled through international NGOs which spend most of the aid monies on “overhead”. They also subcontract local NGOs, which duplicate the same formula.

Meanwhile, due to lack of an interconnected and unified security force that could be referred to as a national army or defence force, the government, and the nation as a whole, rely heavily on AMISOM and other paramilitary groups ranging from clan militias and contracted mercenaries, who are accountable to no one.

Though in the beginning of its mission, AMISOM contributed to the stabilisation of Somalia, it became a hopelessly failed enterprise the minute Ethiopia and Kenya became part of it. Now, AMISOM is operating on a different agenda. Ironically, its timeline for withdrawal is set for 2020, when the next election will take place.

The road ahead

The new president is charged to lead a nation that has systematically lost its national identity, trust, and common purpose; a nation that has been running on empty when it comes to patience; a nation that has very anxious expectations.

Knowing the new president well and having worked with him, I am confident that he will put Somalia’s interest before all others’. He is a champion of an enlightened patriotism that is optimistic and relies on itself to restore the corroded dignity of a self-destructive nation.

The sustainability of his legitimacy, popularity and his vision for a viable Somali nation would depend on the sacrifices that he makes for genuine reconciliation and transformative change.

On this, I urge the new president to consider reaching out to our brethren in Somaliland by extending a state apology for their suffering under the military government and taking the flag to them, as they have done after independence.

I believe such timely symbolism could inspire a new generation of peacemakers, set the stage for genuine national reconciliation, and help patch together this broken nation.

Editor’s note: The original version of this article contained incorrect information about the make-up of Farmajo’s cabinet when he was a prime minister. 

Abukar Arman is a Somali political analyst, writer and former diplomat.

The views expressed in this article are the authors’ own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial policy. 

Along with thousands of compatriots, Ahmed Hussen fled war-ravaged Somalia for a better life in Canada.

Hussen’s journey took him from Mogadishu to Toronto and then on to Ottawa’s Parliament Hill, where the former Somali refugee was named this week as the country’s newest minister of immigration in a reshuffle of Prime Minister Justin Trudeau’s Cabinet.

It was a fast political rise for the rookie politician, and will put Hussen, who arrived in Canada in 1993 as a 16-year-old teenager, in charge of the complex portfolio that oversees who is welcomed into the country.

Friends say the lawyer and social activist will be able to draw from personal experience in his new role.

“He didn’t change,” he says. “The people around him changed.”

Image copyright AFP

Accord recalls Hussen offering him help a few years back. The Somali community in the provinces of Ontario and Alberta were struggling to tackle the deaths of dozens of young Somali men due to drug and gun violence.

He says Hussen did not shy away from speaking openly about the problems plaguing the Somali community in Canada, from high rates of poverty and unemployment to gang involvement.

But Hussen was also aware of how the community could be stigmatised, and was always careful in how he spoke and presented himself. Accord says his friend would tell him “we need to change people’s perception of us”.

“He expects high standards,” he says.

Accord admits he was sometimes jealous of the lawyer and social activist’s ability to diplomatically get across a difficult message.

It was that ability that struck former Ontario politician George Smitherman when he first met Hussen in 1999. Hussen was then fighting for the interest of Regent Park, a multi-ethnic downtown neighbourhood where he had settled with one of his brothers upon his arrival in Canada.

In 2015, he told the Toronto Star that a backlog in refugee applications for permanent residency at the time meant he could not qualify for a student loan. Living in the public housing allowed him to save enough to go to university.

Image copyright Getty Images

Hussen lobbied to help secure funds to revitalise the crime-ridden housing project, co-founding the Regent Park Community Council.

Some long time residents had to move out of their homes during the redevelopment and were fearful they would not be able to return; Hussen worked to ensure their interests were protected.

“There was an extraordinary tension because there was distrust and concerns among tenants,” recalls Smitherman. “Ahmed had to very carefully but forcefully represent their interests.”

Smitherman, who calls the 40-year-old Mr Hussen an “old soul”, later helped him land a job working with former Ontario premier Dalton McGuinty.

“He was someone who spoke with a calmness and an informed knowledge and a maturity that defied his circumstances, both as someone who was young and someone who had taken this awesomely courageous step of leaving Africa for Canada.”

Image copyright AFP

Mr Hussen swept his Toronto riding in November 2015, though he drew criticism for not living in the disadvantaged riding he was elected to represent.

Speaking last April in the House of Commons, he raised concerns about the recent drowning death of hundreds of migrants from Somalia and the Horn of Africa, saying: “Asylum seekers are not criminals, they are human beings in need of protection and assistance and deserving of our respect”.

Smitherman sees Hussen’s background as both an asset and a possible disadvantage in the challenging portfolio.

“It sets up for tensions also as expectations are increased,” he says.

Following his swearing-in, Mr Hussen, a father of three boys, told media he was “extremely proud of our country’s history as a place of asylum, a place that opens its doors and hearts to new immigrants and refugees”.

Hussen has always referred to himself as a Canadian first and Somali second, says Accord. In 2015 Mr Hussen told the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation that he does not want to be labeled a “Somali MP”.

“I’m a Canadian. Somali is my heritage and I’m proud of my heritage but I have a lot to contribute to Canada. And I’m a mainstream guy. I’m not limited by my community,” he said.

Hussen replaces John McCallum, a veteran politician who is going to become Canada’s envoy to China after managing Trudeau government efforts to bring in over 39,000 Syrian refugees in the last 13 months.

“The real message of the new appointment is that the government wishes to profile refuges as a more salient part of our immigration program,’ says Jeffrey Reitz, a University of Toronto sociology professor.

“But it does raise the question of the mainstream immigration program,” he says.

The rookie minister will face challenges in the key, and rarely uncontroversial, portfolio.

McCallum recently introduced contentious changes to Canada’s popular family reunification program, replacing a first-come, first-serve process with a lottery system to randomly choose 10,000 people who filled out initial applications to express interest. Critics say that reuniting families should not depend on luck of the draw.

Another recent decision to scrap a rule limiting how long foreign workers can stay in Canada is being targeted by the opposition as potentially harmful to the country’s work force in the long run. Immigrant rights groups have been critical of the program, arguing the workers under the program are vulnerable to abuse by employers.

He will also have to defend a recent Liberal decision to significantly reduce the number of private sponsorship applications for Syrian and Iraqi refugees because of a current backlog.

Canada plans to bring in 300,000 immigrants in 2017, the majority of them economic immigrants.

They are among the Muslims and members of other minority groups who are joining the ranks of Minnesotans who applied to become gun owners in 2016.

For Abdulahi, it’s a natural response to an uptick in hate crimes since the election of Donald Trump.

“Donald Trump has directly pointed fingers at the Somali community,” Abdulahi said, referring to the president-elect’s statements before the election that Somalis are a “disaster” for Minnesota. “It’s something you don’t expect to hear from a presidential candidate. We’ve seen backlash. We are not going to stand [for] that.”

Fears about Trump’s rhetoric on one hand, and fears that his Democratic rival Hillary Clinton might try to restrict gun ownership on the other fueled a spike in gun permit applications in Minnesota this year. As of Dec. 7, the state has issued 70,112 permits, a 57 percent increase over the 44,696 issued last year, according to a report from the state’s Bureau of Criminal Apprehension. The permits are valid for five years, so the total includes both newly issued and renewing permits.

That compares with 29 percent of blacks when asked the same question in 2012.

There is no data on the number of Muslim-Americans buying guns, and permit application records don’t reveal demographic information beyond the age, gender and the county of the applicant.

But Andrew Rothman, president of Gun Owners Civil Rights Alliance, a Minnesota-based nonprofit that advocates for “gun and self-defense rights,” says he’s seeing a growing number of Somali men coming in for gun lessons.

Rothman said his organization welcomes their participation.

“We have always said civil rights are for every population that may be subject to discrimination and violence because of their heritage and other personal characteristics.”

Abdulahi and Yusuf are urging Somali-Americans to “live without fear through Second Amendment right to bear arms.”

The two have formed a group and have held several meetings in the community.

Their group is also addressing security concerns by working with law enforcement and hiring armed security guards to patrol Somali malls, schools and mosques that could be targets of hate crimes.

Fresh in their minds is a foiled plot to bomb a mosque and an apartment building housing Somali immigrants in Garden City, Kan., in October.

Concerns about guns

Some worry, however, that a push within the Muslim community to get gun permits could place Minnesota’s Somali-Americans in an undesirable spotlight and invoke ugly memories of Somalia’s civil war.

Abdulwahid Osman, an attorney for the family of the man who stabbed 10 people at St. Cloud’s Crossroads Mall, applauded Yusuf and Abdulahi’s message to the Somali community to stay vigilant, and he does not argue with individual choices for self-defense.

“It’s up to individuals to make their own decision on how to protect themselves,” he said. “The religion tells us, the constitution tells us, and circumstances tell us.”

But he worries how their message would be perceived by Minnesotans at large.

He urges Somali-led organizations to provide their clients with safety guidelines rather than tout gun ownership.

“What are we going to do if an active shooter breaks in?” he asked. “Are we going to run, hide or make a call? We need everyone to be aware of safety procedures.”

Lul Hersi of St. Cloud, a mother of four, wants to be a gun owner, but fears having a gun around her two teenage boys who are dealing with racial tensions in the city.

“There is never a [better] time than now, but I don’t feel safe to have a gun in my house,” she said.

For Yusuf and the dozens of Somalis who come to the group meetings, there is a sense of urgency.

They fear that Trump’s administration will restrict Muslims from obtaining firearms. “They might put us on watch list or have a special mark on us,” said Yusuf.

Abdulahi’s fifth-grade daughter has been taunted in school because she wears a hijab. Yusuf’s wife is unnerved by the looks she gets on the streets.

“This is the right time to start owning guns and protecting ourselves and families,” Yusuf said, adding, “We have schools, mosques and community centers that need to be protected.”

People not as comfortable

John Monson, owner of Bill’s Gun Shop & Range in Robbinsdale, said he has a number of Muslim customers, but they are not the only people buying guns or seeking permits to carry.

“Any time you add gun control, more people want to buy more guns,” said Monson. “We sold more guns because of that and people are not as comfortable in their neighborhoods anymore.”

Haji Yusuf said he also sees more Somalis interested in guns. Yusuf, no relation to Abdul Yusuf, created the Facebook page “Somali-American Gun Club” and is the co-founder of #UniteCloud, a social media attempt to ease cultural tensions in St. Cloud. He is now preparing to start a nonprofit to educate community members about the rights and responsibilities of gun ownership.

“It is necessary to own a gun just in case there is something that might happen,” he said. “The world has changed — things have not been the same. There are people that are acting out to harm us. It’s a matter of saving my life and my family’s life.”

Ilhan Omar, a Democratic candidate for state representative in Minnesota, gives an acceptance speech on election night in Minneapolis.

She’s a former refugee, a Muslim, a mom of three, and now the first Somali-American lawmaker in the United States.

“This really was a victory for that 8-year-old in that refugee camp,” Ilhan Omar, 34, said. “This was a victory for the young woman being forced into child marriage. This was a victory for every person that’s been told they have limits on their dreams.”

Omar is the youngest of seven children. She and her family fled from the Somali civil war and spent four years in a refugee camp in Kenya. When she came to the United States in 1995, she spoke only Somali. As her English improved, she began translating for her grandfather at political events in the Twin Cities. Today, the Minneapolis organizer is well-versed in business administration and politics.

“I think I bring the voice of young people,” Omar said. “I think I bring the voice of women in the East African community. I bring the voice of Muslims. I bring the voice of young mothers looking for opportunities.”

She won House District 60B in southeast Minneapolis with 80 percent of the vote. It wasn’t a surprise that Omar would win a Minnesota House seat in the reliably Democratic district: In the primary contest earlier, she beat a 22-term incumbent, and her Republican challenger suspended his campaign for family reasons. Allegations were raised during the campaign that she had illegally married her brother to commit immigration fraud; she denied the charge.

On Tuesday, as Ilhan Omar walked into a room filled with supporters, she was crushed with hugs and kisses from anyone who could touch her. For nearly 20 minutes, photographers tried desperately to capture Omar as she moved around the room in her white headscarf. When the music stopped and speakers gathered on stage, Omar sat down in the front row, beaming, next to her husband, Ahmed Hirsi. One of her children sat on her lap, and her two other kids stood by her.

“Minneapolis said no tonight, said no to hatred,” Habon Abdulle said. She’s the executive director of the Minneapolis group Women Organizing Women Network.

“Minneapolis said no to the narrative of making America hate again. Minneapolis tonight said yes to diversity. Minneapolis, and [the] 60B district particularly, you said Muslim women have space in the governing body of our state. Thank you.”

When Omar’s husband took the microphone, he got the crowd laughing when he started to describe strong, black, Muslim women.

“For those men — wooo! — let me tell you something,” Hirsi said. “When you see a strong, African, Muslim woman, don’t be afraid, no, you know what, appreciate that. That’s the model, that’s the new 2016, going into 2017.”

Omar and her children joined him on stage as the crowd started to chant, “Ilhan, Ilhan, Ilhan.”

She honored her grandfather first, thanking him for his many lessons, then her dad and finally her supporters.

“Our campaign has been about more than just uniting a district, more than winning back the House, more than making history,” Omar said. “Our campaign has been about shifting narratives, restoring hope and re-establishing access in our democracy.”

She told the crowd she would work on an agenda focused on justice and the common good, zero waste and renewable energy.

“And we will never stop fighting for a democracy that works for all of us, for a prosperous and equitable Minnesota that we will all be proud of,” she said. “I will never give up fighting for you, and I hope you will never give up fighting for me.”

Omar’s mentor and friend, Minneapolis City Council member Andrew Johnson, said he knew long ago that she would make history.

“I had no doubt that Ilhan would get here. The big question is: What’s the path an individual takes?” Johnson said. “And I just think she’s just naturally a great leader.”

Mohamed Omar Giama couldn’t agree more. The 90-year-old former Somali ambassador to the European Commission said he was overjoyed witnessing history.

“I never thought a Somali lady, a refugee, can get through all this hardship and difficulties to get elected to Minnesota parliament,” said Giama, who attended her victory party. “It’s wonderful,” he said, “just wonderful.”

A Somali boy jumps between old fishing boats near Mogadishu’s harbour. Photograph: Handout/Reuters

Tuesday 19 April 2016: For many people it is easy to stereotype Somalis as agents of terrorism, annoying refugees, gun-wielding pirates or competing warlords. Not the peaceful, resilient people they really are, say the team behind Somali Faces – an online project highlighting the everyday stories of Somalis around the world.

Ever since the civil war broke out in 1991, millions of Somalis have sought refuge abroad. Some stayed in the region, others made their way to Europe and continue to do so.

On Monday, up to 200 Somali refugees were reported to have drowned in a boat crossing the Mediterranean on the way to Greece.

The United Nations refugee agency said “hopes of greater stability” have led to waves of refugees returning to Somalia, but a further 1 million remain internally displaced, mostly in the south, which has been blighted by violence at the hands of Islamist militant group al-Shabaab.

Loss and hope

Somalis live to tell powerful stories – of loss but also of hope, say the duo behind the project, who have been sharing people’s stories in English and Somali but say they want to withhold their contributors’ names for now.

Donia Jamal Adam is a human rights advocate and campaigner, and Mohammed Ibrahim Shire is an author and PhD student. Both are also amateur photographers.

They have two objectives: to reconstruct the global image of Somalis by challenging tired stereotypes, and to encourage fellow Somalis to rise above tribalism.

Adam and Shire curated the project by visiting and talking to Somalis across the globe, from the residents of the autonomous republic of Somaliland to the diaspora, and found that “every Somali – toddler or a centenarian – has a story to tell”.

The next generation: ‘We’ll make Somalia great again’

My biggest ambition is to make my country great again. I’ve seen pictures of how Somalia used to be before I was born, before the destruction. How could it have disappeared?

I ask myself why I wasn’t born in the generation enjoying peace. Then I think that it can be rebuilt and it makes me smile. I want my generation to be the ones to make Somalia great again. God willing.
Mogadishu, Somalia

The female student: ‘We are are not just baby-making machines’

Somali girls usually follow one of three routes: they shun education and get married young, they risk their lives trying to get to Europe, or waste time until their wedding day.

I’ve been told numerous times that my place is at home and I’m wasting it with education, but I never let other people’s opinions sway the path I’ve set. I will be going to university soon.

The majority of my peers see education as something to occupy yourself with until marriage, a leisure activity. I love helping out at the house but it should not deter me from pursuing an education too. Somali women are not just house objects or baby-making machines.
Borama, Somaliland

The blind girl: ‘We are also capable of love’

Pinterest

My family, and others I interacted with, didn’t really know how to raise, or approach, a blind girl.

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During my younger years, we lived in a village called Higlale, close to a large well, and one morning I accompanied my mother to collect water.

Two figures approached, they turned out to be a distant aunt and her son. My aunt said: “Who is this beautiful girl sitting next to you… is she the blind girl?” Over the years I have got used to that term.

The son sat next to me and patiently told me the names and the colours of the flowers I was holding – although I’ve never seen them, I love how they feel in my hands. No one had ever done that for me before.

From that day we spent a lot of time together. I fell in love with him but it took years to pluck up the courage to say it. When I did he replied: “How is it possible for you to love … you are blind and can’t see me?”
Hargeisa, Somaliland

The migrant: ‘Money comes and goes but knowledge lasts forever’

A close friend and I decided to leave the capital Mogadishu and travel the usual path: from Ethiopia, Sudan, Libya and then into Europe.

But we ran out of money and got stranded in Ethiopia. I was broke, couldn’t speak Amharic. I had very little money left but decided to buy a Somali-English dictionary. Every day I studied 20 words and within two months I was able to understand news programmes in English.

One day, I met an American who wanted to learn Somali and we agreed that he would pay me 50 Ethiopian birr (£1.65) every half an hour of teaching. He tested it on a trip to the Ethiopia-Somali region and returned praising me profusely and offered me a good job. Money comes and goes but knowledge lasts forever.
London, UK

The activist: ‘I was the first Somali to have artificial legs fitted’

I was six years old when I went out to play with my friends. We didn’t have much so we scanned the place for objects that we could play with. I found a metal object that was beautifully shaped but it got hot so I chucked it away, throwing it in the air and giving it a kick. It blew up and I fell unconscious.

I next opened my eyes in hospital. I tried to get up but I had lost both of my legs. After several months the United Nations visited and offered to help me walk again. I was the first Somali to have artificial legs fitted.

In 1996, I attended an international conference on the elimination of landmines in Switzerland and they asked me what they could do to help. I told them to build a school in my birth city [Hargeisa] and they did.

It was named after me and I finished high school there. I now have a bachelor’s degree and campaign for local organisations that raise awareness for disabled Somali people.
Hargeisa, Somaliland

The elder: ‘We used to have a code of conduct’

Pinterest

There is a huge difference in the way Somalis use the clan structure these days. We had a code of conduct back in the day.

For example, if a local from Hargeisa [in Somaliland] was travelling by car or horse all the way to [the Somalian capital] Mogadishu without food or water, the Somali clans he would meet on the way would supply him with provisions.

They would help him with tips and advice. They would never refuse him, that would be the biggest disgrace. He would be treated better as a traveller from a different clan than a local member from the area.

This was our code, before we acquired statehood in 1960. Now we have pure tribalism devoid of rationality.
London, UK

Hooyo Shamis Jamac iyo caruurteeda
Hooyo Maryama Jibrill iyo caruurteeda

Hooyo Cudbi Abokor iyo caruurteeda

Hooyo Faduma Axmed iyo caruurteeda

Fawsi Saleban Geedeeye  iyo xaaskiisa iyo carruurtiisa;
Axmed Saleban Geedeeye iyo Faduma Shiikh Cali iyo carruurtooda
Xasan  Saleban Geedeeye iyo Amina Maxamed Xaji Axmed iyo carruurtooda

Ismacil Maxamed Geedeeye iyo Maymuna Axmed iyo carruurtooda;
Cumar Maxamed Geedeeye  iyo Sahra Cabdi Burale iyo carruurtooda;
Cali-nur Maxamed Geedeeye  iyo xaaskiisa iyo caruurtiisa;
Waris Maxamed Geedeeye iyo caruurteeda

Cusman Maxamed Geedeeye iyo Faduma Xariir iyo carruurtooda;
Cabdillahi Maxamed Geedeeye iyo Shadiya Axmed Dhamac iyo carruurtooda;
Cabdifatax Maxamed Geedeeye iyo Xayat Ibrahim iyo carruurtooda;
Cabdixakim Maxamed Geedeeye iyo Suri Axmed iyo carruurtooda;
Fuad Maxamed Geedeeye iyo Fowsiya Xasan iyo carruurtooda;
Cabdirisaq Maxamed Geedeeye  iyo Khadra Cabdillahi iyo carruurtooda;
Khadar Maxamed Geedeeye iyo Shamis Jama iyo carruurtooda;
Cabdicasiis Maxamed Geedeeye iyo xaaskiisa

Ayaanle Maxamed Geedeeye

Cabdirisaq Axmed Saleban Geedeeye iyo xaaskiisa

Maxamud  Axmed Saleban Geedeeye iyo xaaskiisa

Yasin Maxamed Cali Geedeeye iyo xaaskiisa iy caruurtiisa

Saleban Maxamed Cali Geedeeye iyo xaaskiisa iy caruurtiisa

Cabdirisaq Maxamed Cali Geedeeye iyo xaaskiisa iyo Caruurtiisa

Amina Maxamed Cali Geedeeye iyo caruurteeda

Deeqa Ibrahim Xiirey

Cabdihafid Axmed Cabdi

Nimco Axmed Cabdi

Muna Axmed Cabdi

Sharmarke Ibrahim Maxamed Geedeeye

Cabdinasir Ibrahim Maxamed Geedeeye

Ikram Ibrahim Maxamed Geedeeye

Xusen Xaji Muse iyo Safiya Saleban Geedeeye iyo caruurtooda

Cabdillahi Xaji Muse iyo Jawahir Maxamed Geedeeye iyo caruurtooda

Cabdicasiis Abdulle iyo Amal Fawsi Saleban Geedeeye iyo caruurtooda

Maxamed Xusen iyo Sahra Maxamed Geedeeye iyo caruurtooda
Maxamed cumar iyo Katun Maxamed Geedeeye iyo caruurtooda

Qasim Xusen iyo Sahra Dahir Cali Geedeeye iyo caruurtooda
Saleban Aw Cumar iyo Hinda Dahir Cali Geedeeye iyo caruurtooda

Kamal Cabdi iyo Ayan Fawsi Saleban Geedeeye iyo caruurtooda

Cabdikhalaq Axmed Shiikh iyo Hibaq Xusen Xaji Muse iyo caruurtooda

Cabdirisaaq Siciid Aw Cabdi iyo Khadra IbrahimMaxamed Geedeeye

WAXAY DHAMMAN TAHNIYAD IYO BOGAADIN U DIRAYAAN

KHADAR  XASAN NUR IYO SABAAX ISMACIL JAMAC

OO BISHAN JUNE 22, 2013, MEHERKOODII KA DHACAY MAGAALADA HARGEYSA
WAXAANU QOYSKAA CUSUB ILAAHAY UGA RAJAYNANYNAA INAY NOQDAAN KUWII DHISTA QOYS KHAYR QABA OO KUWADA NOOLAADA BASH-BASH IYO BARWAAQO, NOQDANA QOYSKII ISKU REEYA ISKUNA RAAGA UBAD KHAYR QABANA KALA  HELA

AAMIIN……AAMIIN ………AAMIIN

Dhamman qoyska reer Geedeeye iyo ehelada iyo qaraabada reer Qaydar waxay tahniyad kal iyo laaba u dirayaan  CABDIRISAAQ SICIID AW CABDI IYO KHADRA IBRAHIM MAXAMED GEEDEEYE oo habeenkii Khamiista ee bishu ahayd 19 June 2013, arooskoodu ka dhacay magaalada Laascanood ee gobolka Sool.  

Waxaa tahniyadan diraya:

Hooyo Shamis Jamac iyo caruurteeda

Hooyo Maryama Jibrill iyo caruurteeda

Hooyo Cudbi Abokor iyo caruurteeda

Hooyo Faduma Axmed iyo caruurteeda

Hooyo Cibado Maxamud iyo caruurteeda

Fawsi Saleban Geedeeye  iyo xaaskiisa iyo carruurtiisa;

Axmed Saleban Geedeeye iyo Faduma Shiikh Cali iyo carruurtooda

Xasan  Saleban Geedeeye iyo Amina Maxamed Xaji Axmed iyo carruurtooda

Ismacil Maxamed Geedeeye iyo Maymuna Axmed iyo carruurtooda;

Cumar Maxamed Geedeeye  iyo Sahra Cabdi Burale iyo carruurtooda;

Cali-nur Maxamed Geedeeye  iyo xaaskiisa iyo caruurtiisa;

Waris Maxamed Geedeeye iyo caruurteeda

Cusman Maxamed Geedeeye iyo Faduma Xariir iyo carruurtooda;

Cabdillahi Maxamed Geedeeye iyo Shadiya Axmed Dhamac iyo carruurtooda;

Cabdifatax Maxamed Geedeeye iyo Xayat Ibrahim iyo carruurtooda;

Cabdixakim Maxamed Geedeeye iyo Suri Axmed iyo carruurtooda;

Fuad Maxamed Geedeeye iyo Fowsiya Xasan iyo carruurtooda;

Cabdirisaq Maxamed Geedeeye  iyo Khadra Cabdillahi iyo carruurtooda;

Khadar Maxamed Geedeeye iyo Shamis Jama iyo carruurtooda;

Cabdicasiis Maxamed Geedeeye iyo xaaskiisa

Ayaanle Maxamed Geedeeye

Cabdirisaq Axmed Saleban Geedeeye iyo xaaskiisa

Maxamud  Axmed Saleban Geedeeye iyo xaaskiisa

Yasin Maxamed Cali Geedeeye iyo xaaskiisa iy caruurtiisa

Saleban Maxamed Cali Geedeeye iyo xaaskiisa iy caruurtiisa

Amina Maxamed Cali Geedeeye iyo caruurteeda

Xusen Xaji Muse iyo Safiya Saleban Geedeeye iyo caruurtooda

Cabdillahi Xaji Muse iyo Jawahir Maxamed Geedeeye iyo caruurtooda

Cabdicasiis Abdulle iyo Amal Fawsi Saleban Geedeeye iyo caruurtooda

Maxamed Xusen iyo Sahra Maxamed Geedeeye iyo caruurtooda

Maxamed cumar iyo Katun Maxamed Geedeeye iyo caruurtooda

Qasim Xusen iyo Sahra Dahir Cali Geedeeye iyo caruurtooda

Saleban Aw Cumar iyo Hinda Dahir Cali Geedeeye iyo caruurtooda

Kamal Cabdi iyo Ayan Fawsi Saleban Geedeeye iyo caruurtooda

Cabdikhalaq Axmed Shiikh iyo Hibaq Xusen Xaji Muse iyo caruurtooda

Sharmarke Ibrahim Maxamed Geedeeye

Cabdinasir Ibrahim Maxamed Geedeeye

Ikram Ibrahim Maxamed Geedeeye

Caaqil Cusman Adan Maxamud iyo xaaskiisa iyo caruurtiisa

Ibrahim Warsame Axmed iyo xaaskiisa iyo caruurtiisa

Axmed-nur Cabdillahi Maxamud iyo xaaskiisa iyo caruurtiisa

Maxamud Axmed Nadif iyo xaaskiisa iyo caruurtiisa

Suri Cusman Xaashi

WAXAANU QOYSKAA CUSUB ILAAHAY UGA RAJAYNANYNAA INAY NOQDAAN KUWII ISKU REEYA ISKUNA RAAGA UBAD KHAYR QABANA KALA  HELA

AAMIIN……AAMIIN ………AAMIIN