Sharmaakow inadeer, ma noolayd! mise islaantii baa guriga kugu xirtay oo is tiri yaanu meel xille ka dhicin.. Ngonge, Iga raali noqo sxb,waxaad soo qortaba si kalaan u qaataaye - it is inherent laakiinse waan joojin! KK, heedhe Geeljire ku qooraanseye xishoo gabar baad tahaye! Xiin, ina adeer reer miyi si lagu noqdaa wey adagtahay balse waan metelayaa. Meel ladegoo ka wacan maanta ma jirto. Nephthys - Allaylehe abidkeen maanteynu ugu liidanaa. Alla haynoo gargaaro!

Brilliant stuff ya Xubeer... Soo Hor!

Valenteenah, thanks walaal. Not i didn't - it is a famous song by Waaberi i believe - i merely translated it. KK, magaca sharafta uu hagooganyahay ha ka qaadin oo haku ciyaarin, wixii shaaca laga qaadona wey hungoobaane ogow! Dabshidow - ina adeer, that's a brilliant gabay, I am working on its translation. lovely car btw. Ngonge, lool i can't help but think that your remarks were heavily salivated with sarcasm. Xubeer, that's a great idea, laakiinse mar hadey meesha ciroolihii Xiin ahaa iyo Sharmaake soo galaan anigu meesha yaanan isku ceebayn. odayaashu meel ay ka hadleen awood uma lihi inaan kama hadlo e!

Sinnaantaan la magac ahay San-ku-neefle ma oggoli Inuu iga sarreyn karo Anna garasho sogordahan Sooryo ruux ugama dhigo Soomaali baan ahay! I share names with equality A mortal I do not allow That he surpass me And allusive words and hints I confer not on anyone as gifts I am Somali Inkastoon sabool ahay Haddana waan sarriigtaa Sacabbada ma hoorsado Saaxiib nimaan nahay Cadowgayga lama simo Soomaali baan ahay Though impoverished I am Yet my hardships I endure And my palms I do not extend A man with whom I am friends With my enemy I do not rival I am Somali Nabaddaan u sahanshaa Colaaddaan ka salalaa Soomajeesto goobaha Ninka nabarka soo sida Gacantiisa kama sugo Soomaai baan ahay I am in a quest for peace And from enmity I am terrified But [from the battlefield] I flee not And the man who brings wounds From his hands I await not [i launch assault] I am Somali Nin I sigay ma nabad galo Nin isugeyna maba jiro Libta weli ma sii deyn Gardarrada ma saacido Nin xaq lehna cid lama simo Soomaali baan ahay! A man who endangers me lives not in peace And there isn’t a man who did wait for me Gratitude I have not yet abandoned Nor do I support not any transgression And a wronged man I compare not with others I am Somali Ninkaan taydu soli karin Uma yeelo suu rabo Sida dunida qaarkeed Sandulleynta ma oggoli Ninna kabaha uma sido Soomaali baan ahay To whom my ways do not appeal As he wishes I do not comply with Like some parts of the world Coercion I do not accept Nor do I carry any man’s shoes I am Somali Ninka Iga sed roonow Siintaada magaca leh Ogow kaama sugayee Hana oran sasabo badaw Dareen seexda ma lihiye Somaali baan ahay O’ you who is wealthier than I Your offerings for name’s sake Know that I expect them not Say not, too, persuade the ignorant For I have not a conscious that sleeps I am Somali Ninna madax salaaxiyo Kama yeelo seetada Sasabo ma qaayibo Sirta waxaan iraahdaa Saab aan biyaha celin Soomaali baan ahay Neither man’s stroking of my head Nor his lace on my legs [duplicity] do I accept Persuasion I do not approve As for secrets [about me] I say A Saab [vessel] that hold no water I am Somali Dabayshaan la socod ahay Salfudeydna uma kaco Waabay sunaan ahay Marna samawadaan ahay Samir baan hagoogtaa Soomaali baan ahay I am of a step with the wind And on impulse I do not act I am like fangs of poison [when provoked] And at times, the bearer of good [when dealt with peace] I am swathed in patience I am Somali Nin I sigay ma nabad galo Nin isugeyna maba jiro Libta weli ma sii deyn Gardarrada ma saacido Nin xaq lehna cid lama simo Soomaali baan ahay! A man who endangers me lives not in peace And there isn’t a man who did wait for me Gratitude I have not yet abandoned Nor do I support not any transgression And a wronged man I compare not with others I am Somali Saan la kala jaraan ahay Summadi ay ku wada taal, Rag baa beri I saanyaday Anoo xoolo soofsada, Xil midnimo anaa sida, Soomaali baan ahay I am like Saan [hide] split into two That still bears the credentials Some men once disintegrated me Whilst I tended to my flocks [but] the obligation of unity I [still] carry I am Somali

Caamir, I think it was the allusive elemnet of the poem that made it so but the ulajeedo was clear. As for a book, I would love to write it, laakiinse aqoon yari baa meesha jirta. I am working on a fictional novel - i have the idea (setting = Miyi) but lack the plot... Xubeerow, taa shaki kuma jiro - haka yaabin!

Xubeer, Allaylehe inaynu isku dhiig nahay waan ogaa ina adeer! This is a rivetting article indeed - more aptly put. And despite my analogy, I have almost re-iterated the same opinions. A worthy read! I suggest in topigaas la soo celiyo... Caamirow, heedhe hadaan u fiirsadaye, gabaygu kii uu abwaanku Alla haw naxariistee nagu caayey sow maaha, iyo qabaa'il kaloo badanba!

Faarax, so you'd rather be heedlessly brash and impetuous (Goat) than indolent & Oblivious (sheep)? besides, hundreds of your fellow goats are dying everyday, yet there is no herder to take them to higher grounds...! Caamir, it is not that only the Sanaagians that rear sheep and goats, but the sool plateau sure does provide good pastures. Besides it's only the these animals that can cross the strenuous Cal mountains... Geelana waan dhaqanaaye ogow hadde saa Cumar baa nagu yiri Ragga Laxa sii dhawrayoo dhaqasho waa geele

During the Jiilaal seasons when winds and scarcity of water hit the parched Somali terrain, the nomads dig wells - Berkedo - to accumulate rain water. Those nomads who live at a distance from the Berked usually water their animals after every 9 to 10 days of thirst, thereby reducing the amount of journeys they’d have to make to the well. On the journeys to the Berked , the drover, walking alongside the herd, guides them into the direction of the Berked. The goats, being the leaders they are, pilot the herd and often seem to automatically recognise where they are going - or at least show the Sheep that they have a clue as to where they are headed. The sheep are naïve creatures and simply follow them. They lag behind and often require gentle whippings from the drover and a pebble-filled canister thrown their way to move them. Sometimes even the whippings of the drover mean little to them because of their insensitive nature and the thick fur that protects them. They have no inclination to move on their own accord and appear to be very sluggish in their movements. Having been driven out early to the watering grounds, the herd is not allowed to graze, but the sheep are often seen nibbling away at the grass. When soo hor, cries the young herder at the well to the drover for a part of the herd to be released to the Berked, the goats immediately rush headlong into the direction of the Berked, dip their heads into the containers provided and after quenching their thirst, play about joyfully with a rejuvenated oomph. The goats are born leaders - or have qualities resembling a leader’s. They are lively and enthusiastic about life’s prospects, though they are deficient in terms of experience and, some times, competence. The young Waxar gracefully gambols around the Ardaa soon after birth and imitates the Ceesaan, who in turn imitates the Goat (Ri) in its high-pitched bleating. They are bold and brash, principally driven by an impulsive rush into things. Their skewed judgment of their own vulnerability hinders them from looking further ahead into the possibilities of their actions. Amused by their own frolicking, they are diverted from the flock, though their senses are promptly reawakened by the hint of fox’s presence. The sheep, however, like inebriated beings in a moment of drunkenness, dawdle absent-mindedly into the open environment, confounded by the happenings. They glance at each other in a moment of murkiness, then at the goats rushing for the Berked and, being the insipid creatures that they are, walk with some trepidation and uncertainty towards the direction taken by the goats, blindly following them. Sheep are rather shallow and slightly slow on the uptake, thereby taking years to respond to little matters requiring little or no brain activity at all. The humdrums of daily existence mean little to the sheep who, in blithe disregard for any perils that lie ahead, graze in the thickest of the forest, unconscious of the darkness that looms and the jeopardy that seeps from within. By evening when the sun starts its graceful descent into the horizon and it’s time to bring the herd home, the sheep walk fatigued as if in a state of infirmity and on a strenuous journey, nibbling away whatever grass they manage to scrounge around. Though in the hindsight they are aware that they would be returning home, their feeble mind convinces them of the possibility of grazing for ever…little do they realise that the cunning fox lurks in the corner burrow and the hyena is dreaming of a succulent meat tonight; even worse, little do they realise that the sun is setting on them and soon darkness will engulf them… When it rains, the sheep are unruffled by the thunder. They are competent swimmers and will swim through any flood, come what may, despite several losses and injuries. Locking their heads together, they form a ring of black heads in the enclosure around their young one and withstand the pellets of rain. If they find themselves being swept away in a flood, the sheep wriggle their plump bottoms about in the water with their head always above the water - except when overcome by an enormous surge. They somehow manage to swim out of the tide that carries them. The goats, on the other hand, are expert whiners and their Qalaad could be heard a distance away. Little floods could cause serious inconveniences to their health and a flash of lighting would agitate their nerves. If swept away they have little chance of survival and, as a habit, dip headfirst into the water. They are often heard making a racket of noises as they are seized by the surge. The ones that perish in the floods, of Sheep and Goats, are never mourned for and the survivors never look back. That the floods could rise once again and swallow them is inconceivable to their brains. Death means nothing to both the Sheep and Goats. One lost Sheep or Goat does not render the average herd from pausing in their graze and reflecting upon the future that awaits them - even if that death occurs right in front of their eyes and a fox devours a young delectable Sabeen! The Somali population’s mentality differs not much from that of the animals they rear. The general populace, with their Sheep Logic, are desperate to be led, having no capacity within them to do so. They largely follow their whims and desires and though they perceive the goings-on in their surroundings and the chaos that envelops them from within, they are too blasé about them do not comprehend all that they perceive. Their limited mental vision and the grass they graze on obstructs their view from the perils that lie ahead. Living off the handouts of other countries plotting bigger schemes on their country, the Somalis live in a state of almost total unconsciousness. The elders of that population have passed down years and years of traditions and practices. The chain of this Goat Logic is passed down through an uninterrupted chain until it reaches the Waxar. The young ones born either in or outside Somalia, with a developing sense of Waxar Logic, aspire to become just like their parents and are often seen regurgitating their ideas and behaviours. The dwelling of the young ones or their birth place, even if outsie Somalia, does little to change the inherent susceptibility to Sheep Logic which is passed down by the elders. Neither does the Waxar Logic differ much from the Goat (Ri) Logic, nor the Nayl Logic from the Sheep (Lax Logic. From a young age, the progeny of this type of logic is infested with the endemic Qabiil Syndrome (QS) that takes root and eventually turns them into either whiners like their seniors or leaves them in a state of complete insensitivity. The middle aged ones, with a half-lived life and the logic of the Sabeen or Ceesaan, are in no position to change things and inflict the lashing of Qabiil on the growing young ones. And just like the Goats and Sheep they rear, death is of little significance for they grasp it not. It does not engender a feeling of loss to say the least. The loss of hundreds or perhaps thousands is of no value and moves them not even in the slightest sense. This sense of insensitivity is shared by all and sundry. The primitive admiration of inherited Goat/Sheep Logic supersedes any new rebellious, counterculture Waxar or Nayl willing to change the long-established and unequivocally revered perceptions of the elders – perceptions which any Ceesaan or Sabeen with a bit of nous would easily rubbish. Those who rule, with their Goat Logic, are very much short sighted and scatter at the slightest hint of a commotion. They are an impetuous lot and carry huge, impenetrable solid heads above their scraggy shoulders - a weight too much for them to bear and as a result of which they disappear after a short time. With an imprudent penchant for control, they lead their susceptible flock astray into parched fields and dehydrated pastures where the Jiilaal winds have swept away the very remnants of life from the surface. All in all, Waxar Logic = Ceesaan Logic = Ri Logic and similarly Nayl Logic = Sabeen Logic = Lax Logic. There is no change in sight…We are all of the same Goat/Sheep

Hodhodho - you're talking out of your *** mate! walash-walash - you're walking in a Cantrabaqash way chow-chow - I dare ya! Dhikh-dhikh - very funny!

^^ Alla inanku (sirqaygu) edeb daranaa... loooool@Xaar.co.uk! lagugu malaas dheh!

Somali art, film, music & culture DIALOGUES IN THE DIASPORA Sunday, 4th November 2007 7pm-11pm Hackney Empire, 291 Mare Street, London E8 1EJ Tickets: £15/ - £20 at the door Booking: 020 8985 2424/ http://www.hackneyempire.co.uk Numbi is the largest celebration of Somali culture and music to hit London. This imaginative and passionate festival is to be held annually in London with a summer/ winter programme, in venues around London - an ongoing research project investigating contemporary arts practice from pre-civil war Somalia to the present day Diaspora. The idea is to invite artists from a variety of disciplines and diverse backgrounds to work as collaborators with practitioners and young people from the Somali Diaspora. Each artist-collaborator has something distinct to bring - our vision is to provide a platform to both emergent and established artists to explore new ways of creating work - in theatre, visual arts, music and film - that draws from the experience of Somali communities around the world. Cultivating cross-cultural artistic collaborations, the festival aims to deliver work that challenges perceptions, fosters genuine representation, and speaks to Somali communities and as well as a diverse audience of the general public. Artists collaborating on the project include Kinsi Abdulleh, Rashiid Ali, Renee Mussai, Benjamin Samuels, Byron Wallen, Steven Watts and Concrete Stilettos. Loosely based on the Numbi launch in October 2006, the line-up will include up to 15 artists who will create a unique cross-cultural fusion of contemporary spoken word, poetry, urban hip hop, traditional Somali music and dance, as well as a newly commissioned short performance piece directed by Benjamin Samuels. All work is in English. Includes contributions from Xudaydi, The Pan Africans, The Nomadix, Jama Damalian Warrior, Mecca2Medina, Prince Abdi, Yusra Warsama, Wiilwaal, plus a special film screening of See Shells , a short film by legendary Somali film director Abdullekadir Ahmed Sead based in south Africa & 4R Knaan‚ + the Numbi Award. For further info: kinsi.kudu@talk21.com 079 4953 4402 http://www.myspace.com/kuduarts http://www.kuduarts.com/

War weynu is garaneynaaye hadeynu Soomaali nahaye, kani wuu metelayaaye inagama mid aha.Waa sheegato fooqal sheegato!

Timiyoo wax lama iman tagtayoo wax lama tegin tafaxume hasoo noqon

Sinnaantaan la magac ahay San-ku-neefle ma oggoli Inuu iga sarreyn karo Anna garasho sogordahan Sooryo ruux ugama dhigo Soomaali baan ahay!. Nin I sigay ma nabad galo Nin isugeyna maba jiro Libta weli ma sii deyn Gardarrada ma saacido Nin xaq lehna cid lama simo Soomaali baan ahay! Ninkaan taydu soli karin Uma yeelo suu rabo Sida dunida qaarkeed Sandulleynta ma oggoli Ninna kabaha uma sido Soomaali baan ahay Ninna madax salaaxiyo Kama yeelo seetada Sasabo ma qaayibo Sirta waxaan iraahdaa Saab aan biyaha celin Soomaali baan ahay

I used to be proud - it is now on the wane!

The events were, though not very well organised, lively and enjoyable. Seeing and meeting some of the best Somali artists such as hadraawi, gaariye, Aadan Qays, Kuluc, Xudeydi, iwm was rewarding. Also a great feature was seeing Dr Martin Orwin reciting his Gabay encouraging the youth to study hard and work hard. An uproarious crowd then gave him a much-deserved clapping. Anyone present that Thursday night would have witnessed the fluidity of his speech, by far better than many young Somalis i have come into contact with. All in all, I've enjoyed the events I went to and the ones I took part in despite the sweltering heat, experienced as a result of the scawny somali men and obsese somali women, tightly packed like sardines.

And this is how the inside looks like when it is finally built, with a small branch for hanging clothes as an extra (modern design I say). Now that the hut is almost complete with all the pillars of wood erected and the hut standing firmly, the only thing left to do is fasten the skilfully woven mats onto the pillars wood. The mats too though, have to be made by hand. First the Caw is gathered from the woodland after days of scouting, then after getting rid of the impurities, it is assembled as above and the interlacing or plaiting of the Caw begins. This process of interlacing the Caw is called Falag and is usually done over drinks when women gather for conversations late in the afternoon. After interlacing the Caw, a single long sheet of Caw is made. This sheet is called Gadaan. The name is derived from the meaning of the word Gadaan which is “round” - and because the Caw, after each plait, is rounded up as in the above picture, it is given such a name. Hundreds of single plaits of Caw are then interweaved to form a large mat called Dermo (Plural - Dermooyin). The picture on the right shows the Dermooyin on top of the hut. And here is the final result… As for the time it takes - well I passed by the hut being built (top) on my way to Ceelbuh. By the time I came back, about and hour and a half later, the hut was completed! Kudos to the female Somali nomads I say! Aqal Soomaali

I was passing by this place - Goob Ramaas - when I noticed a small Somali hut being built and brought you some images. The above picture of Goob Ramaas, near Ceelbuuh, clearly illustrates the vast open terrain called Sool. Like a giant carpet spread upon the earth, it rolls for miles and miles in every direction - as far as your eye can see! This is the Somali hut being constructed - and you’d notice that it is only women who build the huts. The men usually gather the wood from the Galool, Dhumaytrees etc, and then the women get to work. The above hut being constructed is called Saddex-dhigood, meaning it is made out of three arched Gob branches as you can see above. This is the smallest hut constructed and the largest is made out of Seven. The most common huts though are made out of either three or four Dhigood. Though not of the same hut, this is how the inside of some huts looks like. In this picture, the thin branches that run somewhat perpendicular to the three Dhigo, along the entire hut, are called lool. These lool form a spread above the Dhigo so that the woven mats can be fastened onto the hut. And this is how the mats are then fastened to the hut. What you see in the picture on the left is Udub-Dhexaad - the middle, or sometimes on either sides of the hut, wood made usually out of Dayyib tree that fortifies the hut and keeps it erect.

Yaa Sophist... Waraabaha ku ruugaya iyo aar ku raamsanaya Sidey kuugu kala roonyihiin maad u kala reebtid?

Sheekha Jacaylku googooyeyow, Anna waxaan is lahaa Badhan baad qabsandootaan ugu sii bishaaray ha ku farxaane! lool The regions of Sool and Sanaag have for long been in a state of bewilderment. The fertile regions have become some sort of a spectacle - a poor one at that, inviting derision and laughter from all and sundry. Why don’t the people of the region have a voice they wonder? Why don’t they determine their state affairs? Why don’t they unite under the giant Higlo and forge a solution to the crisis in their midst once and for all? This fighting between the two warring factions has now become part of the region’s rich tapestry! The regions have become a football field and a point scoring system for two rapacious leaders. In the field though, neither the gluttonous leaders nor their players dare set a foot. They hire players from Sool and Sanaag, sit at the sidelines along with their troupes and recline in their chairs whilst the bloody battle commences without cessation on the pitch. Such is the situation, but the players in the field are either too engrossed in the shedding of their own blood, too intoxicated by their blood, or too overwhelmed by their insatiable need for wealth and fight like inebriated soldiers atop their graves. Little do they realise that the whistle has long been blown and the match has long been concluded. In this first episode, Somalilanders are rejoicing. From their inelegant victory, having gained it at the hands of the local Lasacanodians and not through direct involvement in a heavy exchange of fire, the Somaliland soldiers are now garlanded with pride, noticeably bordering on conceit. Celebrations are all in due course. The Puntland administration though, having sent all its soldiers to the south to protect its vulnerable leader, comprises of a small infantry of local young boys from Sool and Sanaag. The second in command was too busy enjoying himself at the expense of the emaciated Ethiopian leader, feeding off the hands of famished servants and lying in pools of Ethiopian cesspit. Now it recoils back in its cave, all its plans of power thwarted by the unanticipated money-grubbing Laascanodians supporting the Somaliland mercenaries. One wonders though, where we will go from here, what the next episode will be...

Laascaanood has fallen - next Badhan!

Maakhir State of Somalia is something not recognised by the residents of Sanaag. Having come back this week from Badhan itself, majority of the residents are neither aware of its existance nor are they in any way interested in its creation. The idea of MSS is the brainchild of only a few individuals and with Jibril Ali Salaad Aadan as its head, what is to be exoected from it? Could it be another one of those strategies to segregate and seprate people and create animosity between clans perhaps?

Safi has let her mind wander in an unfamiliar territory this time!

Nearly a year ago, the Islamic Courts Union (ICU) have ignited a flame so powerful in Somalia that it’s impacts are still being felt by those in power today. With the help of America and Ethiopia, the government troops are, to this day, hosing down the dying embers of that fire. Having been re-united by the collective call to Islam, many Somalis supported the ICU and saw it as the movement that would unite Somalis far and wide. They had raised the banner of Islam, however ill-prepared or ill-judged their actions might have been. Within the six months of their imprudent but somehow effective rule, a gigantic wave of optimism, and in no less measure pessimism, had captured the hearts of many and thus the ICU gained prominence. Those impoverished and anguished souls whose minds have been severely debilitated by the anarchy and constant fear wished for a reprieve from the brutal war and therefore supported the ICU. They have had enough and resorted to the notion that any sort of governance ought to be better than non-governance and the spark ignited by the ICU had brought about a wave of nationalism to redeem the years lost in civil war. Immediately the few degenerates whose blinkered minds forbade them seeing past their tribal allegiances and borders leapt in hue and cry. Having been incensed by the support given to the ICU and the way they were frequently lauded, they became resolute in their opposition. A tribe other than theirs in power was something inconceivable to their tiny obstinate minds. But the ICU, despite all their flaws, had brought about a short period of stability. A brief interval from the war, perhaps to reflect at it, ensued as a sense of relative calm hovered over the city of Mogadishu. And for the first time in more than a decade, people went out of their bullet-ridden houses without worrying about their return. The tribes that were once expelled from the hierarchy chain and cast as subordinates in the eyes of many have finally been accepted as men and women of equal worth. Women went outdoors without fear of rape or kidnapping, and mothers gained a resounding hope of seeing their children making it past adolescence and not loosing them to the war or stray bullets. Hope had impregnated many hearts; hope for a better future, for change, for long lasting stability, for peace, for reconciliation, and hope for a nation. But sadly that hope was short-lived, for soon enough the fire was wildly spreading and America, upon hearing the trumpet of Islam and fearing the governance of Somalia, whom it has yet to reap its resources, by Shari’ah law quickly responded with fighter jets and covert surveillance operations. They had formulated a plan to wipe out any rise of Islam and together with Meles Zenawi, who was, with a handsome pay, appointed as their mission commander in Eastern Africa turned their attention to the new movement in Mogadishu. On the pretext of war on terror, America waged war on the world. But I had always had my misgivings about Ethiopian involvement in the governance of Somalia. During the time of Siyaad Barre, Ethiopian generals and high ranking officials were usually seen tending to the vegetation or irrigating the soil and ploughing the fields in the vicinity of Afgooye. They were serving time in some of the toughest underground jails in Afgooye such as Labaatanjir or Laanta Buro for their attempts to lay claim on Jubba, Shabeele and Somali coastal lines. But today their army, consisting of emaciated debauchees scathed by the scorching heat whilst AIDS gnaws away at their insides, tread on the Somali soil with malicious intent. Their landlocked country, unable to gain access the vast coastal line of Somalia is now attempting to do so by force, surreptitiously. They have, perhaps, been plotting their schemes for quite some time to get their hands on Somali soil and water to wash away their non-coastal cesspit. For long though, the indomitability of the Somalis and their valour had stopped them at the borders, but now it seems that their opportunity, however gaunt and grey they are, had finally come. Today they rule much of Southern Somalia and any intentions of withdrawing have been dwarfed by their determination to make Somalia a culvert from their disease-infested cesspit to the coast. And of course, being the feeble-hearted vultures they are, they never would have set a foot on Somali soil, had it not been for the repulsive schisms they’d seen between the tribes. They waited for long for Qabiil to sap all energy from their prey. Malevolently used, Qabiil is the evil that mars the dignity of the entire nation. And it is sad to see that, to this day, the iniquities of tribalism and the old established forms of bigotry are the order of the day. And i doubt qabiilism will allow us a chance to progress and save our country from being turned into another sewer. Unless reconciliation procedures start now and Somalis learn to settle their differences, I am afraid by the time they conceive the notion in their minds it would have been too late. The fire kindled by the ICU and the wave of optimism it brought has been thoroughly extinguished. But sometimes, they say, bushfires need to burn for fresh grass to grow in their place. And that new grass or Cosob, as it is called in Somali, is rapidly beginning to grow.

Another set of events are said to be unfolding in the Sanaag region again. Somaliland troops are said to be in Biyaguduud, near Xingalool, and marching on their way to dhahar. The Puntland troops are said to be in Baraagaha Qol, near Dhahar. Alas! there is no one wiseman in their midst to foresee the evident consequences of such a clash!