The Bond Of Fellowship: He stands accused of being a faceless freind stranger with a familiar feature and a distant tone a trick he was meant to master by fate's grace skills honed on the blank pages of aspiration many sleepless nights his watering eyes endured tossed & turned fighting to lay his words to sleep thoughts over powering and out running his mind restless almost senseless he got but God forbid never careless beating his chest..biting his lips with anticipation fighting to vomit the pain he failed to spill out hid his frustration behind the thin lines of his chosen path between defeat & dignity, ego & pride he battled wishful mind on a mission to conquer his fearful fantasy through imagination he finally found his inspiration held his head high and unleashed his under-fire ambition took his first step toward his impatient destiny under the winking stars he began to translate his dreams blessed to turn thoughts into waves of wishful words humbled by the might of the pen he shares his pain with to enlighten his homeless soul is what he always aimed for to expand his horizon with spoken word became his goal to remain loyal till destiny does them apart is his written vows grateful to almighty for the rewards his faith brought for him alone he praised and with him he's fulfilled. Peace,Love & Unity.

Congrats My Brother MD...Like they say "Aroos Laguma Raago, Lagamana Raago" so Welcome To The Club. Peace,Love & Unity.

My faith is Islam does that make me an Islamist? I worship none but Allah s.w, would you classify me as an extremist? I am the son of a scholar do i qualify to be known as a terrorist? I love my Somali people to eternity does that make me a racist? i bare my soul when i speak, would you describe me as a nudist? I admire Mao & Min (Ho Chi) would you label me a marxist? I denounce the western democracy am i a communist? I prefer our late President to any Warlord am i a socialist? I got no time for the Moffies & dykes does that mean i am a sexist? I love and totally adore ladies, does that make me a feminist? I read Third Reich journal am i an anti-semitic(ist)? I know Musselini's history does that make me a fascist? I reject holocaust claims, would you call me an anti zion(ist)? I pray for the downfall of the yahood (May The Curse Of Allah s.w Fall Upon Them) and their fellows, am i a fantasist? I am a dreamer so would you call me an illusionist? I remain faithful to my creator so am i a loyalist? I rather choose Jannah than anything on earth would you call me a futurist? if i call today's Muslim leaders "COWARDS" am i a fundamentalist? I prefer Osama's pic to Bush's does that make me his publicist? I write on Somaliaonline journal, why wouldn't you call me a columnist? How Come and Why?... Peace,Love & Unity.

Memoirs Of A Muslimah: She's an ancient spirit molded into a modern being giving her legacy a new face with the scripture of reason she's the divine link between yesteryear's trend and the new season she's the pride of her all kind soothing my foreign mind she's all mankind' hope that floats without a hint of flaws diamonds dangling from her dancing hands decorated with hennah her face glowing from the ablution and heart pulsing with iman flowing silky fabric covering world unto herself many a men depart from this lonely life without ever knowing the paradise she hides beyond her golden barriers rivers of wisdom flow beneath her crown of Burqa idle minds ask to know what remains when you take it off the weight of lustful stares of strength of islam she remains sacred best described as pious she is a home maker, the righteous men's joyous lovemaker she's beautiful beyond modesty and a pillar of her belief she can't touched by grief for in her faith she always finds relief foes find hard to battle against the roots where she begins in almighty's will the sand she travels on becomes her guide her legend plastered on the history walls at the far end of her dream for she's answerable to no man but a higherbeing in ALLAH (s.w). Peace,Love & Unity.

This gabay is written by Ciyaalka Xaafada and i hope those of you who are fluent in Somali will enjoy it Insha Allah as much as i did. Dar-Daaran: Diiftan inaga muuqatiyo daryeel xumada naheysata Dad dalkoodii laga ceyrsadoo Dibadda joogaan nahay Dayac beynu nahay maantoo laheyn ciidan daafaca Duur cidla ahiyo dugaagbaa inagu wada hareersan Dabeylahan ba'an aanan heysan meel ay kaga dugaashadaan Daqar baa ina wada gaaroo dhiigeenaa daadanaya Dadkeenuna ma gartaan darxumada ay dal la'aantu keentay Dulligii qabiil ahaa baa loo daadinayaa dhiiga Dumarkiyo caruurtiina lagasoo saar daarohoodii Doonibaa lagu guroo lagu wada daadiyey badweynta Dacwadii rabbigeeniyo la nac maacankii Diinta Dalal shisheeye iyo kuwo naga wata dan gaar ah Dowlado aanan ina rabin iyo kuwo diidan magceena Soomaaliyeed Duqeydeenii iyo caaqilkiiba maanta ka daba wareegaan Kaniisado la dawarsadiyo maxaa noosoo arkay xidiga David? Danbaa la moodi Amxaarka iyo dahabka ceyriine Deegaankii shanaad miyaa maanta dalkii loogu daray? Dar-daarankii Gureey iyo mujaahidkii Daraawiish Daartii Fardoowsa Allah haku Daryeelee Diintii iyo dalkeey nafta macaan uhureen Damiir laawe iimaankii ka duulaybaa Dalkii inuu iibsado Soomaaliyeey diida Daadiya hubkoo joojiya dhiigeenan daadanaya Daacad isu noqdoo Aakhiradiina danbe udadaala Dayaxaa tegitaankiisaa dunidu maanta ku tartameysaa inagana nala kala dilyoo dariiq dariiq naloo qeybsaday Ducada rabbigeena inaan badinaa Soomaaliyeey iga dardaaran ah. Happy 40th Indepence Day.... Peace,Love & Unity.

Salam Aleikum W.W My brother, that was a great piece..i thoroughly enjoyed it even it was short..Nice 1 Bro..Keep them coming please Insha Allah. Peace,Love & Unity.

Nice 1 My Brother...Thanks for sharing. Salam Aleikum W.W. My Motherland: Motherland wanted a water birth so dirt in exchange she wouldn't desert us when we cried just a mere grain of sand for our homeland the salt in her tears washed over her open womb a grateful child that's still alive and dried bones grown reciting verses from a note-worthy poem's tomb discarded and torn through the pages of history like the mystery murder of the unborn babies the brutal & painful rape of the future princesses families and cities on the move towards misery forced me to write on graves and stoned ghosts in my coastal city of Kismayo turned into caves my deceived nation remain slaves to a dead culture fed to vultures for guns and chains by few evil souls drugged villages and scholars slain to silence the truth bragging about whose crack came first and pure but what was Somali flesh before post-mortem has been stained red perfected into full Somali blood its effect is millions of microphones went unchecked I chose to be the one to resuscitate the buried mix tapes of the truth while they drunk with sleep and break of dawn gets carried away to the ashes of the devil's beat they fired like clay my Somalia is boxed in and when the gun boom hit the streets of my town the Angel of death dusted off its feet to the sound of bullets raining and souls dying love swept away and brotherhood lying bleeding to death hatred and battles seated at the table of peace my nation smoked pipe lines and got high with hatred I spoke of love and the hatred rain flowed off my Somali tongue twisted letting my anger grow I am told birds don't fly over my old town my old pigeons don't associate their mates new danger came as soon as the town found mortars I miss my Calanley where drums were pierced then spears looped through the lion skin and every area you went had live shows the chant can't be electronic if you connect sticks as click tracks and relax to the respected spirits that came correct could you pass the gates and slap your chest like Gorilla Units who pound their fists? I quit proving it's hard to resist my old Somali music when even Darwin insists his institutionalized theory can kick it into the next broken record evolution. Peace,Love & Unity.

My brothers SoMa_InC & Northerner, first Salam Aleikum W.W, Secondly I AM SORRY for you guys (for obvious reasons) more than i am for the Brits, I guess now you understand why i said England isn't one of the teams i tipped to win the World Cup. Let me say this...Henry finally got his revenge over Luis Aragones (even if he cheated to win THAT free kick) for calling him "Black Sh!t" and i am happy for him and not because he's my Captain but i am also happen to be an African.. If you didn't know then...i bet now you know WHY i said Brazil & Argentina wont win this world cup but i believe Brazil lost to a better team on the night and France thoroughly deserved to win it and the goal Henry scored was worthy winning any match.. The Great Old Maestro Zinedane Zidane reminded the world that he's still capable of producing the magic that we all came to expect of him and didn't he show a one or two things to the Brazilian midfield of Ze Reberto and Gilberto Silva and for me he was the man of the match..well done Zizou. Now...let me tell you how the semis will go.. France to beat Portugal and i am picking Italy over Germany..i know..i know..you think i am Mad right? Well, did you know Germany have never beaten Italy in the World Cup? for that simple reason i fancy Italy to go on and beat Germany and who's my favourite to win the world cup after that you ask..i pick Azzuri to win the whole bloody thing! PS. If you ever wondered why football is so beautiful and why i personally consider the world cup to be MAGIC..just look no further than Waterlily and Lexus..they would never waste their breath and valuable time on any sport but Football..because they know this game is simply the greatest sport ever invented. Peace,Love & Unity.

First of all Salam to all of you...i hope you are enjoying the football bonanza in Germany as much as i have. after absorbing all the excitement and fiesta thus far i think i can safely say that my mind is made up about the teams that i think have a genuine chance of winning the ultimate price in world football. so far Brazil hasn't impressed me at all and as always England is all about hype nothing else. my head tells me Argentina would nick it but my heart reminds me that this cup is being played in Europe and not in South Amrecia and as we all know the only team that ever won the trophy in a "foreign soil" if you like, is the boys from Brazil in Sweden '58...so i don't believe one bit that the boys from the land of Samba and Tango stand a chance..Sorry Amigos. If i was a betting man i would bet on these three teams to win it.. 1-Germany, because they are the host nation and they seem to be getting better and stronger by every game and don't forget the 12th man factor which is always great to have. 2-Italy, i know many of you think i am crazy right but let me tell you why i think Italy could nick it...Italy always managed to reach the final in every 12 years...the last time being US 94 and this year they really look the real deal. 3-Spain, i think they would beat France and i will really really be surprised if they didn't make to the Final at least. If you don't agree with me then go ahead and convince me and feel free to have your say. PS. Sorry England fans..your team just isn't good enough to win it even if they had 4 Rooneys. Come On Ecuador Enjoy The Beautiful Game. Peace,Love & Unity.

Mogadishu - A blind 16-year-old was the first girl to win a prestigious Qu'ran recital competition in Somalia, the British Broadcasting Corporation reported on Friday. Amina Abdul-Majid, who lost her eyesight when she was hit by a bullet during the country's 14-year-long civil war, was awarded $500 for winning the contest that has been won only by boys for decades. Religion minister Omar Mohammed said her achievement had broken a mould. Abdul-Majid said she hoped to continue her studies and become a renowned Islamic scholar. All 60 participants in the nationwide competition had to learn the entire Qu'ran by heart as they were asked to recite passages on demand. The competition is a prestigious event in Somalia whose winner is celebrated nationwide after being announced on the last day of Ramadan. - Sapa-dpa PS. This is a proof that POSITIVE things still happen in our old country even if the story is somewhat old. Maasha Allah. Peace,Love & Unity.

Hola Majita, There's a crime problem every where in the world but unfortunately South African crime and AIDS figures ans stats are exaggerated thanks to the white owned media who are hell bent to give S.A a negative image by spreading vicious lies. Let me give you a simple example... would they still continue to live here in their millions if S.A was as bad as they are claiming it to be and do you think i would still be here after almost 10 years knowing how FULEEY yours truly is.. yeah..you heard me right..almost a decade and never been a victim of any crime and i wouldn't leave here simply because S.A has always been good to me.. Alxamdulillaah and so are my friends and the other thousands of somalis who live around this LAND OF OPPORTUNITY. As for the rest..you don't need me to explain to you why they are spreading lies about the country that has and still continue to be good to them. use your imagination! The mayor of Cape Town Ms Helen Zille belongs to a party called Democratic Alliance...i have never seen a more negative party than DA and all they are interested is to attack the goverment without ever offering any solution. personally speaking i don't like DA one bit and here are my two reasons. 1- its formed and run by JEWS.. 2- its leader Toni Leon is a hardline Jew who hates ISLAM with passion and openly supports Israel. About the Somali deaths...Well, is there a place on earth where Somalis could live forever? Who said Somalis die in S.A more than anywhere else in the world anyway? YES they are murdered just like any other race here in S.A but so does those Somalis living overseas. but did you know Somalis murder just as much if not more? You guys only hear about the unfortunate deaths of the somali brothers and not the non-somali that died of the somali bullet and i am yet to hear of an incident where only the Somali died, NEVER! so next time you hear about a somali death, spare a thought for the nameless that died with the maryooleyga. Somalis are not angels and they still murder each other for whatever reason but we always hear that the murder was motivated by GREED..DAMN! Let's just say we are blessed with the most troublesome Somalis you'll ever find in anywhere in the world and they commit all sorts of hideous crimes..from arm robbery and drug dealing to hijacking...it's unfortunate that most of the time those who die happen to be new to the country and INNOCENT small business owners and not those good for nothing crooks. PS. Dont believe everything you read! Nkosi Kakulu. Peace,Love & Unity.

Angels Of Innocence. She was born on the season before the flat lands wept. before fate was awaken while the devil peacefully slept. when profanity clampered unto seduction's breast. before power devoured and night fall offered nothing but terror. shuffled on hush voices and shaded by history fence. today her tongue is captive and her skin sings her souls's sad songs. she's the colour of fresh bread and the winter's leaf. the colour of memories burned and the colour of misdeed. the colour of innocence stolen and her pride that's broken. the colour of secrets spoken as the pale token. when she sings its the song on her silenced tongue. the words of the SOMALI heart beating in her chest. when she sings its for the love of the life she can't touch. the path she can't follow without footsteps of regret. she sings for what she can't remember but her body wont let her forget. she sings for the sold SOMALI dignity and the abducted legacy. she sings of sadness because she has nothing else left. the child living in me yearns for her motherly LOVE and wisdmom. i write in the honour of the love i was blessed upon by you. will you still be alive when history changes its gear? when patience pays its dues to each & every SOMALI hooyo. when the tatters of all the broken homes are pieced togther. is there a place for fear when the past becomes a commodity? when we bargain ourselves out of poverty and gain our liberty. when the pretty young SOMALI females of this new today. hold the blueprint of what those of yesterday began to build. heels clicking hair perfect..back straight, voice deep. brightening the SOMALI horizon with her GOD GIVEN grace. without a hint of the fear that terrorised her PALACE. knowing how she struggled to stay alive with no bridges in between. your cries that curl the straight edges of history haunt me. you look at your motherly heart with eyes blaring at full blast. dreaming of the bridges we could build that promised of hope. written by the pretty SOMALI girls wearing crowns of change. I CURSE those men among us who cause you nothing but pain. i seek your essence for the good of my own existance. i lay down my manly foundation by aknowledging your importance. with no language to paint this colour of sadness you wear. I PRAY this may never be the love you experience in my hands. Peace,Love & Unity.

Waryaa Raula junga bibi casikusikiye ama atatuba vitizangu kwa cinje..mimi xabana taka fita..xuku wanawake wakona XAKI KUBUWA siyo kama xuko kwetu ISIOLO na RIFT VALLEY..unaona... That's what i call kiswahili ya Sergeant Waryaa Style ... Good to hear from you..as always. Brother Kulmiye..Appreciate it. Peace,Love & Unity.

Speak: Speak to my Motherland; Tell her to pardon me if i failed to wipe away her tears ask her to forgive her offspring while laughing when she's crying. Speak to my soil; Tell it not to mourn the demise of her rose that's dying i greet the trees & the bees that feed us without any fees the seas,the rivers and the wheat nurturing our infant seed. Speak to the stars; Tell them not stop smiling over my forsaken Somali nation. Speak to the moon; Tell it to carry on shining through the dark clouds hanging over us. Speak to my tired head; Tell it to guide me to the land of brotherhood & wisdom. tell it to keep me humble & modest in these trying seasons. tell it to be kind and caring towards my own Somali kind. tell it to remind me of what it took for me to be born free. Speak to my hands; Tell them to reach out and touch only the good in me tell them to reach out and heal those infected & affected by the war. Speak to my feet; Tell them to carry me til i reach my final destination. Speak to my ears; Tell them to ignore not when my mother country calls tell them to listen to the news the wind brought from home Speak to my fellow country men; Tell them to STOP shooting at me please STOP the violence and let's fight against poverty & ignorance. Shout at my Somali people; Tell them we are all equal in almighty's eyes tell them we are all brothers & sisters by blood & birth tell them to cease the hatred and the blood bath beg them to ease my pain and release my spirit by letting one another LOVE & LIVE in peace. Peace,Love & Unity.

The Mathematics Of Tears: How can i live when my nation is on the brink of death? how can i call out when grief made me out of breath? how can i rejoice when demise is my peer's only choice? how can i find peace when my heart is torn into pieces? how can i dream big when i all i see are nightmares? how can i trust again when the one i trusted betrayed me? how can i sleep when all my eyes can do is weep? how can i ever love when my heart is full of hatred? how can i laugh when all i can hear is my mother's cries? how can i be happy when my people are consumed by sorrow? how can i not be lonely when i buried my last true friends? how can i smile when all my face is capable is frown? how can i adore the beautiful princess i raped brutally? how can i call myself a man when i killed my own woman? how can i be proud of myself when i sold my soul on cheap? how can i pray when i turned my back on the loving lord? how can i find joy in looting the wealth of the orphan? how can i expect fate to be kind to me when i've forsaken my faith? how can i expect Allah's mercy when i destroyed mercilessly? how can i speak when my cruelty left the angels speechless? how can i enjoy my meal when my whole nation is starving? how can i worship my creator with the blood of the innocent on my hands? how can i call myself a SOMALI when i watch them die of my bullets? how can i lead my people when i led them into the hands of their enemy? how can i salute the great flag i helped put down? how can i kiss the soil my greed allowed to be poisoned? how can i call SOMALIA home when i am its worst enemy? Damn you Warlords..for raping my dignity Damn you Gunmen..for making a refugee Damn you for murdering my innocence Damn you for shooting down my dreams Damn you for terrorising my hopes Damn you for looting my pride Damn you for spilling our blood. Dear God..please save my people. Peace,Love & Unity.

Someone was knocking at the door, What if it was Safia? He imagined her coming in and looking around disgustingly at his terrible little room. "So this is how far you've got since you stopped wasting with me?" she asked with a malicious smile. "And where's the wealth and what did you do with all the millions?". he was burning with shame, yet why should he be ashamed? he hadn't killed anybody! what was there to be ashamed of?. The knocking was getting louder, he finally had to open the door. at the door stood his neigbour Musa telling him that his dad wanted him immediately. Ibrahim told him to say that he was sick. Musa would've been happy to report that Ibrahim was lying, but could see that he was telling the truth, his face was pale and his teeth were chattering. Once alone, Ibrahim locked the door and fell back on the mattress, it was too late. fate,cruelly made Ibrahim and Safia despair of each other, how else could Ibrahim have assumed that Safia brought along her new 'LOVER' to spite him? In fact, the supposed lover was her older brother whom she hasn't seen for ages, he was back home from overseas for Holiday and she brought him with her other wise her parents wouldn't have allowed her to go out but now she had her brother as an excuse and just as she expected her parents didn't object. she was excited to be back home and couldn't wait to see her Ibrahim once again and apologize for her childish behaviour and since she imagined how much she must've hurt her beloved Ibrahim with her cold and cruel words..she took a vow and made a promise to herself that she wont let anybody ever come between them, but loving thoughts don't always reach the person who inspires them as Boodhari (God Bless His Soul) taught us that Love Is A Source Of Wounding Misunderstandings. When Ibrahim saw Safia walk into the library with the 'stranger' all he could think was that she despised him for being a nobody who hadn't accomplished anything (Safia, who didn't know the meaning of the word Ambition) and when she caught his bitter look,(Yes, she saw him)she felt all her charm for him. "So he can't stand the sight of me" she thought. neither of them gave a thought to her poor brother who didn't seem to notice anything. On Saturday her brother went back overseas to his family and Safia waiting (for she didn't know what) for some greater certainty and when she was told that Ibrahim was seeing this hottie from Shaqaalaha, she flew back to Sweden. (Why do some people like to lie to those who are closest to them..in other words..those who trust them?) "It's all the best" she told her best friend Hodan (whom she begged to accompany her) on the plane. "I was right to get mad at him in the first place, obviously he wasn't serious, he really did think that he was wasting his time with me, if he didn't, he would've tried to get in touch with me again. it can't be that easy to discourage somebody who Loves & cares for you." "You got mad at him for nothing, and worse you didn't even let up when he called you to apologize" replied her loyal friend Hodan. Safia raised her hands to her burning cheeks and looked at Hodan intently, thinking of her remark. "You're right" she nodded severely. "I didn't behave like some one who was in love. we prolly didn't really fit each other so even if i had gone back when he phoned me, it wouldn't have worked out". But she regretted everyday that she hadn't said 'Yes..Yes, I will come' when Ibrahim phoned her in Sweden. If only she had known that she would never hear from him ever again and she would have settle with asking people about him and the most of the times the people were only too happy to decieve her even more, that's why they suddenly invented a pretty new lover for Ibrahim. She must've been out of her mind, she told Hodan, she also confessed that when she went to the library she hoped that Ibrahim would be there and she would see him and she would seduce him with a look but there she was running to Sweden instead of going back to him. Ibrahim came to a sudden and strange conclusion and he thought to himself "If my father doesn't want to give me S.SH 10,000 to start my project with, then he wont see me with that kind of Please-Give-Me look, he wont see me beg neither him nor the goverment. He longed to get away from people and most of all away from anything and anybody that would remind him of his beloved Safia. "I would take a job at one of those large hotels near the beach in Kemboni to earn my keep and the cost of all the equipment i need" he thought. But in truth, the only reason he was fleeing from the city that was most beloved to him is because he couldn't bear seeing Safia parading her new lover around and to be jealous of a person one claims doesn't LOVE is the most ridiculous form of vanity but in Safia & Ibrahim's case we know otherwise. Ibrahim needed all tricks and excuses known to man to convince his dad to let him go and work in Kemboni to earn his 10K and finally make something out of life. After few argument filled days his father finally agreed to let him go but on one condition. he wont be allowed to leave until he's offered a job with reasonable wages and since all those Hotels had offices and agents in the city Ibrahim agreed and after few days of going back and forth, he landed a job at Kudhaa Sea Club, working four days a week as a desk clerk. Kudhaa Sea Club was the largest and the busiest hotel in the entire East African coast, it was a world class hotel which made it the favourite play-ground of the rich & famous. Ibrahim certainly had no idea of his standing in the world, looking on his job as a way to provide for his room and boat while he taught himself how to dive into the depth of the ocean and he did not expect that anyone would take him for a servant, and as soon as he stepped out of the taxi, he began to earn to acrimony reserved for the people who doesn't know their place. Two porters broughta trolley to carry his bags to the staff house while a third led him inside the main building. he tipped them all, oblivious of the offeded looks they gave him as they pocketed the money. Did he think he was a cut above the rest? He didn't but these f00ls decided right there and then to make his relatively easy job a hard one. they vowed to make him hate the whole place and finally decide to quit the job but was he a soft target who couldn't stand up for himself? was he a quitter? He met the supervisor who was an older gentleman named Yusuf and he came across as a friendly man and easy to talk to and they immediately struck a good and meaningful conversation and Ibrahim learned that besdies the forty bungalows renting for a S.SH 500.00 a day, there were many other suites in the main building at S.SH 300.00 a day which shocked Ibrahim. "Who could afford to stay here?" Ibrahim exclaimed. "A better class of people than you see in any other hotel" answered Yusuf. "What an obscene money" "We have our own yatch and a championship golf course" bragged the Supervisor. "There isn't much of it left" Ibrahim commented, wondering whether he would ever identify that much with a place where he had to work. "This must be the first job you've ever had" "Hey, that's right..how did you know?" "Just guessing" Ibrahim liked Yusuf in spite of his mocking tone, "You're clever Sir" "How kind of you to notice..have a seat" replied Yusuf, evidently welcoming every opportunity to show off his strength, he picked up a heavy chair with one hand and hoisted it effortlessly over the counter. "Tennis" he explained in response to Ibrahim's amazed look. A tall,strong man in his mid-forties with quick black eyes and had an easy grace for an old timer like himslef. gifts of form or style common to refined sportsmen and apart from sport his passions were talking and reading. "I borrowed an old camera with underwater casing, i hope to take some pictures of the seabed" Ibrahim told him, wishing to estebalish himselfd as a nature lover. "So you'll be getting a lot of colour film to develop" Yusuf promptly refused to have anything to do with with diving. "it would bore me and ruin you" he replied. "I have a lab at home, so why don't i teach you how to develop film and let you use the darkroom in the evening and don't look so worried, i wont charge you for it" He had been a highschool teacher in Faanoole until he lost interest. the former teacher and former student , both forcibly interrupted in their scholary pursuits, got along very well and as the sheer of sudden comradeship made Ibrahim feel likeable and important again, he wanted to talk about Safia. He asked about the rich residents of the Island. "Do you see them much around the club?" "No, you don't" "How come?" "That's the whole point dear boy, they don't want to be seen. it may not have occured to you, but nobody needs to lay out the kind of money they do, just to buy a bit of land and some beach,all those extra millions go erect the expense barrier to keep out the poor, God forbid, lowlifes like you and me and the not so terribly rich" "You still think i don't count for nothing?" interrupted Ibrahim. "What at extra-ordinary idea?" gasped Yusuf. "That's how they look at you, isn't it? you're what you've got..that's all you amount to". "If that was the case, they wouldn't invite me, anyway, you could pick up some tips for the stock market and then you'd amount to more, I haven't done badly". Ibrahim shook his head in disagreement.. "I am not interested in making money that way profitting from other people's work" "Heavens dear boy, you're hard to please" Ibrahim got up from his chair to examine or should i say scan the whole room.... "But you don't think Xaaji Lacag's daughter would marry for money, do you? as she is already a rich girl" "Ah, i was wondering what all this was about, so you know the pretty little Angel then huh?" "Not really" replied Ibrahim. his voice betrayed a deep sense of dissatisfaction. "Where did you two meet?" "In a bus" "Are you trying to tell me that the daughter of Xaaji Lacag was in a public transport with you?" "Why is it so hard for every one to believe me?" "Simple, her father can afford to take her to school with a private jet...never mind dear boy, that is not the issue here..is it? but you are right, she is in a class by herself and you don't need to worry about her, she's perfect and incredibly down to earth as she is a Princess in her own right". This remark made Ibrahim frown and it hurt to hear this old and married man talk about his Safia and describe her in a way he thought he only should since she was his Princess and no old man's and he couldn't help getting jealous of his so-called supervisor. When to the heart of a man was it ever less than a treason to go with the drift of things, to yeild with a grace to reason and bow and accept the end of a love or a season and move on? Why is Love always unkind to the true lover with genuine and kind heart? They say LOVE is only four letter words, but so are PAIN and HELL. Peace,Love & Unity.

LooooL@ Baashi.. My ribs hurt from all the laughter...especially the Tubako, Bajuni Witch-Craft and Iskoris part...(I'm Iskoris.. is that Bad? lol)...as a proud born and bred Calanley-Majengo i believe we were wrongfully associated with all these things thanks to the Farjanne folks who spread these lies like a wildfire but then again whos to say we were innocent when it came to putting one over the folks at Farjanne. I grew up believing that all the guys from Farjanne were Sissies who played football like girls and punched like girls and I swear i believed the only thing they were good at was Sniffing glue & petrol, popping Valium, raping and beating up the poor and defenseless girls and i must add the inventors of FEEL (Don't laugh) until i came to Utange where i met and got to know many guys whom i came to admire beyond belief and today it feels great to be a grown up man who has nothing but LOVE & RESPECT for my comrades from the north of the city. PS.Brother,I give you my number and give me a buzz when you come Insha Allah so that i can show you around my kingdom and introduce you to the few brothers and sisters from Kista that are here with me and we'll also speak to your old Homeboy A.Ali "Eelaay" down in Lusaka-Zambia Insha Allah... Take Care Lawaalkiis. Peace,Love & Unity.

As poor as he was, Ibrahim had a professional ethics which was entirely based upon his dream and ambition and he swore never to double-cross or betray them for nobody and he didn't share Safia's fear that he was headed for trouble that will have a huge bearing on his young life while looking for fortune and he accepted it as a one of the hazards he had to face if he ever wanted to fulfil his life long ambition and his Dad was right when he said "There are no short-cut to success" . Life was logical but was Ibrahim really willing to forsake his Love for fortune and would it ever make sense to him that he should break up with his beloved Safia over money which is said to be the route of all evil? The only means of advancement are talent and calculation and while the doctors, dentists and lawyers hang their diplomas on their office walls, the walls of Ibrahim's tiny house was decorated with giant framed photos of all the men he admired, and coincedently, all of them were born into poverty yet grew up to become powerful and influential figures with tons of cash to boot. "Am not very bright, but am practical" he told Safia many a times with the disarming modesty which is an absolute MUST for the ambitious and he never agreed with his favourite Professor at school on his theory of "The way to enslave a man is to be his slave" for he never wanted to enslave nobody and certainly never to be the slave of anybody. "What are you thinking about my dearest?" asked Safia. "I was just thinking of how time goes" he sighed, "We've wasted six whole days" he continued. Surprise made the insult all the worse.. "What do you mean 'Wasted'?" she asked and staring him in disbelief. he tried to explain..they argued, drifting further apart. "I despise people who think of nothing but Money" she hissed with tears in her pretty eyes. "Safia please love" Ibrahim begged.."Once we found the wealth we will have our whole lives to enjoy ourselves". she looked at him as if he had turned into a stranger. "No, thanks.. i already have a father who puts first things first unlike you" and with that she stood up and stormed off without saying anything anymore and Ibrahim tried his best to calm her and talk to her but she would have none of it whatsoever and she got into her car and sped off but not before lowering the electronic windows in her BMW and said the most heart-breaking and soul shattering words he's ever heard "It's over between me and you" and she was gone just like that. What was sp terrible about saying that they had 'Wasted' six whole days? it didn't mean he didn't Love her and didn't she ever say something stup!d? why, she even believed in Luck, which to him was plain stup!d and how could she ever fail to see that it was demeaning to be a Rich Girl's Poor Lover, but whatever he thought of telling her, she wasn't here to hear it. There were times when he couldn't recall the length of her dyed hair or the smell of her exotic and sweet perfume or the shade of brown in her beautiful black eyes and these lapses of memory made her absence all the more intolerable. he had a great longing to remember her exactly and couldn't forgive himself for not taking pictures of her or ask her for a few while he had the opportunity...but was it really over between them? besdies..didn't she have tears in her eyes when she left him? At moments when his heart was dead from sorrow and grief to all hopeful sentiments he thought they were tears of rage, the tears of an infuriated spoiled girl, at other times he felt that she had cried because she was hurt and she was hurt because she LOVED him...but what about what his Dad told him about the tears of a woman? 'no no, not a chance, there's no way his beloved Safia would just up and leave..she couldn't, she wouldn't. she wouldn't even hurt a fly let alone her dearest darling Ibrahim. sje just left because she is angry and she will be back tomorrow Insha Allah and this time he will never ever make her sad never mind cry by saying something so stup!d. Few days passed without him seeing or hearing from Safia and he finally decided to go and see her at School and wouldn't you know..his heat skipped a beat when one of her girlfriends told him that Safia hasn't set a foot outsdie of her room and wouldn't even take their calls.. "I hope you didn't have anything to do with that..now did you?"...Ibrahim just smiled at her and turned around when she said "I always knew you weren't worthy of her and i told her this many times..but somehow she just wouldn't listen" not sure if he's even heard her right, he contunued to walk. As painful and insensitive thos words might be he wasn't offended because after all he knew all along that Safia and him lived entirely on a different planet, however, he didn't like to be criticised at all, especially by strangers who knew nothing about him. One evening, overwhelmed by remorseful longing, he walked to Xaaji Lacag mansion to ask for Safia and the news he was given to him by the doorman ripped the heart out of his chest and he felt devastated..he was told that his loving Safia went to Sweden to visit her Eedo who lived there with her husband and their children and nobody could tell when she'll be back to her beloved hometown of Kismayo. All wasn't lost though because there was still Hodan whom Safia introduced to him as her best friend in the whole world and he decided right there and then to go and see her even if it was getting bit late. "I'm really-truly glad to see you Ibrahim" greeted Hodan..Safia went to Sweden to get her head cleared a bit,she explained. "I swear you have everything to do with it" she continued, anxious to make peace between the two young lovers. "I will go and get her number for you". Ibrahim thanked her more profusely than he's ever thanked anybody before, moved almost to tears that the people those who were really close to her didn't despise him. Wasn't that a good omen? He had to give his name several times to the woman who answered the phone and had to wait quite a while for Safia to come to the phone but in the end he heard her voice. "Hello Ibrahim, have you found the wealth you were looking for?" she greeted him cheerfully, "or have you decided to stop 'Wasting' your valuable time on it and decided to honour the promise that you made to me?". Shaken that she could sound so happy away from him,Ibrahim couldn't take in the sense of what she was saying, he didn't even have the presence of mind to say Hello. she was feeling the kind of elation that comes from being involved in something bigger than oneself but the silence on the line made her tense,unhappy.. he missed her, he was miserable and she could feel it. "Are you there Ibrahim?" "When are you coming back home?" he asked impatiently.."I would like to take you on the offer you made me, you know, when we first met but i can't quit what i am doing but i want to do it with you". it wasn't the answer she wanted to hear and yet she was glad. she was glad and frightened of being glad. she felt so dizzy she thought she might faint. How many lives are ruined on the phone? if he had been there she would've fallen into his loving arms, but he was far away.Trying to clear her head, to regain her self-possession, she spoke in a cold, hostile voice directed more at herself than at Ibrahim, she wanted her heart to stop from pounding. "I'm not going anywhere, i have too much to do here" "What could be more important than -->US<-- Safia?" Ibrahim protested bitterly. "Well, somebody ought to be interested in family affairs before its too late" she rebuked him sharply. "I thought i was part of the family too" "I was referring to blood family" she answered cruelly. "I don't mind being an outsider, i just mind you not being here" "I don't think i could ever live on hope, its way too unrealistic for me and dare i say..i don't believe in ILLUSIONS, Sorry Ibrahim". she replied, just like that without ever caring how cruel her words sounded.she wanted to be free from any burden and clear headed. a full person and not just a Girl but also a Woman. "Hope always springs eternal but i guess you wouldn't know anything about that now, would you? I'm sorry i disturbed you Madam" not trusting his voice any further, Ibrahim just put down the reciever. he decided to forget all about her right there and then but few nights later he dreamed that she was lying beside him with in his mattress. he felt such joy that he woke up and realising that he was alone in his old mattress, started shivering. Unable to go back to sleep, he got out of bed, put on swimming trunks, pullover and sneakers and slipped out of the house and headed for the beach,the flood-lights of the port which was so powerful plus the fool moon that Kismayo was enjoying made the visibility all that clearer and being in the middle of March where the tempreture soared high.helped him not find taking a dip such a nasty experience as the water were warm and the sea was calm without a hint of a wave. Tormented by the memory of her spineless voice on the phone, he couldn't master the courage to call her again and for the first time in his young life he felt defeated and found himself cursing the whole universe, he began to question his whole being and wondered if he was on this earth just to complete the numbers of the most worthless souls or losers, if you like. But luckily for him, the insulted Prince that lived in the insecure poor boy didn't succumb to it all and thought of it all as a new challenge and new obstacle which stood between him and the ultimate price and glory. he never lost faith in neither himself nor in humanity and once he came over what he dismissed as an emotional reaction, he was quite prepared to look at the incident from another point of view and decided that it was a whole new positive development. After almost two months since he last heard from his beloved,one day Ibrahim was standing outside their favourite and secret meeting place which was the public library, named after the founding father of this great and magnificent city of Kismayo, Ali Shara Public Library, situated on Af-Madow Street next to Afar Irdood Avenue, when he suddenly saw some one that looked like just like Safia in every sense of the word, but there was something wrong in this picture, something disturbing and mightily wrong. First, his eyes weren't playing pranks on him, it was Safia indeed, but with a guy and to make matters worse, they were holding hands and she seemed to be enjoying the 'stranger's company just like she used to enjoy his company every time they were together. Why is she smiling at him like the way she used to smile at me? Why is she holding him when never allowed me to come close to her let alone touch her? Why is she allowed another man to be in her company when she said i was the only one? Why did she let another man to occupy my rightful space?. Overwhelmed by a profound sense of his insignificance he backed into a poor guy busy talking to his fancy G-3 cellphone and didn't even bother to apologize. He ran home, locked the door and fell on his mattress, So she's back, the proud and heartless rich girl who played him for a fool and most of all played with his already fragile emotions. How cruel of her to take her new lover to their favourite hang out spot in the whole world where they both considered to be sacred to them? How she must look down on him and disrespect him thinking he will never amount to anything. He couldn't decide whether she had noticed him outside or not but if she did then he hoped she could see how much he HATED her. Peace,Love & Unity.

Salama Caleykum W.W My Brother Baashi, long time heh..I hope everything is SHA SHAX for you and the rest of the family Insha Allah. Bro, how can i not stay true to my roots when you and i know none of us would be here without our beloved KISMAAYO CADEEY heh? besides my friends would label me a sell-out which I AM NOT if i didn't mention our hometown..since i can't heal her pains, i can paint her in less gory picture through my pen and remind everybody in here Somali or non-Somali what a great place its with all its amazing natural beauty...that's the least thing i can do, for now that is. Take care my brother and Stay Yicaal Sikyaamo 4ever! Salama Caleykum W.W Ladies...Scarlet and Pacifist..Good to know you are both enjoying this "Mahala" story... Peace,Love & Unity.

Congratulations Brother Qac-Qac.....Tuujiye and when are you going to get hitched Bro? Peace, Love & Unity.

"Poor my father" Ibrahim said forgiving everything. "You've been poor for far too long". "Yes Sonny, that's how you learn" replied Mr Osman, frowning at the mirror as if it were an old poster.."I can be a giant on billboard across Hotel Waamo and still end up as a welfare case and that is all there is to fame". hearing the fear in his father's voice,Ibarhim was overcome by emotions and genuinely felt sorry for his Dad...here was the man not only he loved more than the life itself but also adored and idolised as his one and only hero in the whole world standing before him trembling with fear. he put his arm around his old man's shoulder-they were now the same height- and shook him a little.. "Have no worries my beloved father..you have a God given talent that no one can ever take away from you and sooner rather than later you are going to have the break your talent deserves". Ibrahim whispered to his Dad. the prospect of providing his dad with the missing part of his luck so moved Ibrahim that he couldn't help embracing him,smelling that familiar strong smell of the cheap Lifebuoy soap which happened to be their favourite soap.. they hadn't been so physically close for years and both were moved by a sudden surprising sense of being of the same flesh & blood, they hugged each other with passion of the family feeling that brought tears to their eyes. "Thanks for the generous thought Sonny" said Mr Osman as they disengaged.. "so long as you understand that we don't have S.SH 10,000 for you to start your 'Project' with". "Sure dad, but you can borrow it from the goverment" the suggestion that he should go into debt awoke so many anxieties in the great but poor painter that he lost his self control.. "and i was worried that you weren't rotten enough to be rich" he groaned.."you would ruin me without qualm but you are turning into a rotten soul" Ibrahim reddened "You don't have to insult me dad" "I am your father, it's my job to insult you" Mr Osman insisted, letting go of his famous Somali temper in the way most parents do by thinking that its for the good of the child.. "I haven't done a thing for the past 19 years without ever considering how it would affect you, you were still in your beloved Mother's womb (May Allah s.w have mercy on her soul) when i started to worry about you and now you are trying to shake me down for some crazy gamble without giving a thought to my welfare" "Dad,you know i will take care of you to my last breath, please try to understand" "take care? take care of me whith what?" you expect me to provide for you but you don't do anything for your keep, you hardly ever go to school and you don't take in a word i say, i am afraid you will never be any use to anybody" Ibrahim never heard such abuse from his father, he was still at an age when words hurt more than when the girl you like at school turned your dusty behind down for a date and he was horribly shaken to the core. "now what are you so worked up about Dad?" he softly asked with tears in his eyes, "When i become rich..i will be useful not only to you Dad but to the rest of the world and i promise to make every Somali soul proud of me" "is that something you heard from that spoiled little rich girl?" "What's wrong with listening to advice and Safia isn't spoiled but a good girl with a genuine heart underneath her chest" the painter dismissed the sunbject with a look. "Why don't you act like the kids of your age and dream of becoming a doctor or sports star and make contribution to history" "Dad, i am not a kid and i will make my contribution to history in my own way without ever following anybody else's footsteps" replied the proud prince with tears rolling down on his cheeks..hurt that his dad is willing to dismiss him without a second thought. "Oh yeah? by becoming a dumbbell who couldn't finish school at Qiilmawaaye Hotel?" asked his dad sarcastically. "Who's dumbbell" Ibrahim protested. he was desperate but in the way the young and the healthy are desperate, he despaired of the world not himself and never his beloved father. "Come on Dad, i know a lot and i am intelligent" "Intelligent!" the painter shook his head mournfully, then sighed and even looked at his son to show he could mourn with his eyes "Intelligence is no recommendation my dear son and most people haven't the faintest notion of intelligence, it could be tall, short, Somali or non-Somali, if you want to get a good job unlike me and i mean any kind of good job in anywhere in the world, you need some official proof that you have brains, it seems to me the most sensible thing you could do is get top marks and study as if you wanted to join the board of directors at Sayyid Muhammed Abdulle Hassan University" "Hey dad, you've got a point there" said Ibrahim, grateful that his father was no longer opposing him. He had planned to spend the evening with his father celebrating his breakthrough with Safia as she finally admitted to him that she liked him more than she thought she ever will and strangely for the first time in his young life he was bitterly conscious of being on his own.. feeling distraught by his father's cruel words he headed for the beach with the rest of the early evening strollers who amazingly most of them were the pretty girls from Calanley neighbourhood and here he was breathing sea air spiced with perfumes. He was so agitated, his nerves stood on end and he noticed girls more than at other times now and he secretly wished that one of them would run to him, embrace him, love him and live for him. A certain genius named Boodhari (God bless his soul) who summed up his life with the initials of the woman he loved taught us that LOVE has very little to do with the beloved person and everything to do with the lover's imagination, nothing is so seductive as our own thoughts, the passion that sweeps us off our feet is all our own. At any rate there seems to be no other way to account for the fact that Safia in love with Ibrahim long before they saw each other on that fateful day almost eight months ago now. first she became lively and energetic and like most people with slightly low blood pressure (like my dear friend Ali Bungoma aka Mbwa Kali ) with nothing urgent to do, she was late sleeper and slow starter, spending the first hours of the day in a lazy haze but the morning after meeting Ibrahim she woke early and was wide awake the instant she opened her eyes jumping out of bed, she ran to the window to draw the curtains. The sea was calmand the night wasn't spent yet, though the sun already signalled its coming by lighting the clouds from below the horizon, she put on her favourite Guntiino and went downstairs listening to the silence in the house, "I've got a head start on everybody else today" she thought with the elation of a racer breaking a record. How wonderful and simple everything had seemed when she first caught sight of him and the last thing she wanted was him to think of himself as a bloody Hindu beggar and her as the daughter of the maharaj but as a simple girl who loved him regardless of his poor background, after all she was just an ordinary girl who wasn't born in a higher form of existance but Ibrahim knew that happy lovers are not born but they somehow learn to outwit nature in Aargada like roundaboutway. "What's wrong" asked Ibrahim worried. "I thought we agreed that you'd take your education more serious now" "I will, as soon as i am done with my plans.. you know? ohh, never mind" "and when will that be?" "Why? it could be tomorrow" "Do you honestly believe that the goverment will lend you SSH 10,000 without a guardian and you said your dad isn't willing to bail you out this time and i hate to be the one burst your bubble but since you've already exhausted your loans as a student..i doubt if they will even bother replying to your letter". "I take my chance, after all i got nothing to lose but the whole world to gain" "Ibrahim, come on.. be realistic for once in your life, will you?" asked Safia trying to sound tough. "i hate seeing you punish yourself for something you or your dad or anybodyelse had anything to do with, not only do i want you safe and sound but sane as well and i speak for the rest of the world when i say we will be poorer without you" she continued.. over come by a new kind of protective love for him or maybe she was hiding something from him that is why she was suddenly worried to death about him..could it be the bad dream she had last night which was all about Ibrahim and his life? "How awful she can look" he thought, she must really care about me if it can spoil her beautiful face, longing to comfort her and cheer her up, he tried to swallow his impatience.. "All right, i will slow it down for a while" she continued to stare at him with an ugly face. "What good would that do?" "All right, i will quit this whole scheme of making quick millions and take a good care of myself" he lied in a humble voice hoping that her fears would wear off in a day or two.. "forget the whole thing, i will give it all up" "You don't mean that Ibrahim,men don't give up anything for women" Ibrahim turned pale then met her fearful eyes with a difiant look as his lie wasn't believed, he began to believe it himself. if she could picture him dying in some horrible disaster, he could see himself as the man who renounced his riches for a woman's smile and they were both in that state of vibrant exhaustion in which anything seemed possible.. "I will quit" he said. "Do you promise Ibrahim?" "I want you to be happy Safia" "Good" Safia became beautiful again as she began to have a sense of her power over him. "Remember you promised my handsome poor rich man, i just don't want to lose you" she said teasing. Glad to say anything that pleased his pretty princess Ibrahim promised again and she knew that he only half meant it but it was good enough for a start, she had time she could wait as she was always a patient about everything and she always liked to listen to him as he had a way with words and and he was a good story teller too. "My father says that for a woman to love a man and think he's genius is one and the same thing" she told him. "Oh God, please don't tell me you think that i am genius" he mocked. "i am sure i am objective about you,i knew you were brilliant as soon as we started talking on the bus..just make sure you finish university so when you marry me..if we ever get married you can take a good care of us..now there is no demeaning about that..lots of rich girls marry poor guys who in the end make it on their own and go on to have a successful marriage and a happy life" Ibrahim managed a smile and he was amazed the faith she had in him which meant the world to him...he sighed loudly and said "but it will be far simpler if we were both rich and Safia was determined to find out how serious he was about giving up and she seemed to be saying to herself "if he doesn't have to give up anything for me then how could i ever tell whether he really loves me as much as he says he does". "Who would think highly of her because of me" he worried .."i am still nobody" he was overwhelmed by remorse for his lack of break and most of all his lack of wealth. "if i keep this up, i will never amount to anything" he said to himself. She loved him as much as anybody ever loved before her and she was kind and mighty brave as there aren't many girls who would ever want to do anything with a poor fellow never mind the wealthy ones and yet never worry about whatever people may say or do, it makes no difference to her way of life. she can live as she pleases, nothing she does has any material consequences simply because SHE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT ITS TO BE POOR..but how could he ever explain that to her? All the harsh truths of life crowded in on him when Safia left him alone. he decided to have a serious talk with her, explain to her that she must stop being a spoiled rich girl bossing him around. (he could be very critical of her when she wasn't around). He swore he would make her understand that there was more to life than being a rich girl who knew nothing about how the majority lived and that he didn't want to be kept by anybody, that he had to find his wealth if they were to be equals and death isn't as bad as it's made to sound as long as one knew he was dying for the right cause but as soon as they met again with her genuine love and care for him and Oh that Smile..he would think of her ugly look and said nothing because LOVE made him coward and he just didn't have the courage to upset her. Ibrahim may not admit this to anybody including to himself but he was genuinely Madly,Fully and Totally in Love with her..his beloved Princess Safia. Peace,Love & Unity.

in principal Ibrahim didn't mind being laughed at or being at the center of every joke imaginable which were mainly based on him being the poorest fellow in the entire school and the sarcastic smiles and the daily taunting remarks and jeering made him despise poverty even more and many times after his daily dose of humiliation at school he would go straight at home and fall onto his bed and start staring at the ceiling long into the night and his father got used to his 'dark days' as he liked to call them and learned to respect his son's strange behaviour and these endless humiliations had their effects on this prince and many times he asked himself 'what's my life's purpose' and sometimes he would end up doubting himself but he knew too well that he had no choice but to tolerate them because he believed that great ambitions numb the pain of ridicule. but unfortunately this time, particularly today, however, the stings went deeper not because he had a guest he was dying to impress but they said something against his beloved mother which made him swung around with a murderous glare. "What's the matter? Can't you take a joke?" "Yeah, sure, I can take a joke" Ibrahim replied and turned back to his admiring companion but he was too agitated, too depressed with himself, too unhappy with himself to take the long-term view and he turned around instead and went straight for the guy with the widest grin and soon they were rolling on the floor inseparable. Ibrahim's violent reaction had taken everybody by surprise and two full minutes passed before the two fighters were separated and the brawl came to an end and it was while Safia was watching the fight that it occurred to her that the interesting young prince was very much on his own and desperately needed a friend and as he stood up and started to gather his books making a point of not retreating from the scene, Safia stood beside him to see if he was all right. "Did he hurt you?" she asked "He will limp for few days" replied Ibrahim taking a deep breath 'Allah booto badanaa'. Then he took another deep breath and forgot all about the fight and suddenly noticed her standing so close beside him and what a sight that was to his eyes, a beautiful rose that was brimming with life, a nineteen year old mother earth who had such force of gravity and he felt his sense of smell drawn down to her lekker smelling perfume. "Are you sure you are all right?" she asked with a look that said 'I like you too'. "I am a little dizzy" "You should have something to eat" "I don't feel like eating" "You should have your lunch and then go and lie down" Safia advised him, blushing. Ibrahim forced himself to eat and she tried to reassure him that the guys didn't really mean to hurt his feelings and they were just being silly. Safia's blind faith in people's good intentions, her willingness to see a world of good in everybody had made Ibrahim shy away from her up to then but there's nothing like a kick in the stomach to make a man appreciate goodwill and the warmth of the person sitting in front of him melted his heart, that is to say, produced a melting sensation in his chest and in his head. "it sucks to be here not knowing anybody at all, I hate it here" mourned Ibrahim. "I know the feeling myself Ibrahim" she lied just to make him feel better, Safia was at home everywhere and she was the most polpular student at Sayyid Mohammed Abdulle Hassan University and not because she was the daughter of Xaaji Lacag or she was drop dead gorgeous but she was rather genuinely a good person with a golden heart. "Are you religious Ibrahim?" "What else would I be if I wasn't faithful to my almighty creator, praying is all that I can afford since it costs nothing". Safia drew back to look at him with that smile of approval and he could swear the stars didn't sound far-fetched from the lips of this extraordinary girl who gave him a sense of creation and an immense confidence in his ability to bring a excitement into someone else's dull life and it seemed to him that he had never stopped thinking about her and he attributed his sense of well-being to the thoughts of her and such is the gratitude of those already possessed by longing. They say men and women are not made for mutual satisfaction, women cannot always flow and when they do, they well up slowly while men are quick as torrents and they are primed by nature to burst forth at different times. Safia & Ibrahim were too young to feel bitter, Ibrahim was afraid that he was too cheap and too fast for Safia while she was afraid that she was too expensive and too slow for Ibrahim. it was the end of April, warm enough for sleeping out and they sat down on the soft sands of the crystal clear waters of Qandal Beach just few miles from the great and the beautiful city of Kismayo and they were looking at the clear sky with full of winking stars, the atmosphere was so clear that the stars seemed round and almost tangible, suddenly Safia stood up and ran down to her car and a minute later Ibrahim could hear the music of the film they had just seen coming through the speakers of her brand new BMW 3-series that her dad bought for her on her 19th birthday, thought he liked the tune in the film, hearing it again hurt, he put two and two together, she was a member of Hawa Tako Lyric Opera of Kismayo and he knew nothing about Music. He couldn't understand what such a clever, educated beautiful rich girl saw in him and she knew who's who in the entire country and vice versa while even the lowlifes didn't know him never mind the elite. "She must think that I am just an ignorant guy" Ibrahim thought, hating her. "She is bound to get bored with me" to make matters worse she was quoting from a book he hadn't read. Happy with her chosen companion, with the night, with the stars and she wouldn't have mentioned it if she hadn't wanted to share the thought with him but Ibrahim tried not to listen. The self doubt had crept into his thoughts again and Ibrahim was feeling inferior in her presence but only if he knew how much she liked him and how much respect she had for him by standing up for himself the other day but then again without the daily taunting and humiliation he was exposed to at school Ibrahim would've never lacked a confidence and he wouldn't have felt intimidated at no one else's presence, never mind the presence of this rich but very much likeable girl who was beginning to see Ibrahim in a different light altogether, far from the inferior complex that he was seeing himself in. PS. Wish me a safe journey back to Q-Town tonight and hopefully you're going to hear from me with in the next couple of days Insha Allah. May Peace Be With You All Insha Allah. Peace,Love & Unity.

Salam My Sister Mantra, Me and you should have a very private meeting where we discuss about these strange similarities between you and my Safia and I like the way you are being modest about your looks because it's a rare quality but very positive one to possess. I am glad you enjoyed reading my story because you are a potential buyer to my future books Insha Allah, this is just to wet your appetites before the real meal which I hope to serve one day soon Insha Allah. PS. Maybe this story is based on a true story that might have happened to a friend or some one I know or thought i know like yourself , who knows? Peace,Love & Unity.

The Mathematics Of Tears: Reality is layered within a code so many lies to truth's accent like the cracks in the open road covered with second grade cement lost in a dream of a thoughtless goal I find myself within a mighty void a feeble creature with no control before the world he is destroyed men walk lines that swerve in time as if destined by some outer force my eyes betray my mind's divine and hang me a convicted corps I walk without a path to follow aimlessly wandering a desert plain I dread the thought of the many tomorrows come the next day and then again am I truly born for shame? Oh my Somali people... has cursed future became my fate? for I took an apple from a tree and divulged in temptation’s bait a lesser man than any I have become my soul a prisoner's domain I gave a man my last two pennies he crushed my hopes in fair exchange there was a bird that was born to fly it soared above the open crowds i am a man, who was born to die now wrapped around a blackish shroud my mission was to walk with truth for he would set my burdens free but truth has left for better days after it threw away the only key. Peace,Love & Unity.

"What do you mean by to be rich is to be at war with the world anyway?" he asked with a serious tone. "I mean, who will be your friends when you are rich, have you ever thought about that?" "I don't see why being rich should make any difference to what kind of friends you have" he replied again showing his naivety. "it does though, people will either like you for your money or they will resent you for having it, so you are stuck with a small group who are as rich as you are and that doesn't give you much choice now, does it?" she answered. "I always thought I would have more friends if I were rich" Safia explained to him in length the kind of friends rich people usually have and she also stressed the difficulty of being a girl from a rich and famous background and Ibrahim just kept nodding gravely as if to say he knew how difficult it was for rich girls but noticing her watching him, he gave up pretending. "You are the first one I have ever seen let alone meeting" he admitted and they both laughed and Ibrahim felt that wealth or status didn't matter to Safia and he was right for she never wanted it to matter either, it was coloured for him by his high hopes, the absence of money from his life was a mere postponement, the waiting period for the grand prize. The growing attraction of two young people for each other is a touching sight but there is no feeling in this world, no joy, no pain that is not simply a question of MONEY to somebody and MONEY was Ibrahim's dream and nightmare, his agony and bliss, his great adventure, his faith and fate, it wrapped everything and there was money involved even when there was no money involved, even in the exchange of glances with a pretty rich girl. In the responsive gleam of her beautiful brown eyes, dimmed by passing clouds in the beautiful blue Somalia sky reminded him of his beloved Mother and he smiled briefly and then there was his dad, Mr. Osman who feared that at the most hopeful estimate his son's chances of making it big maybe One in a Billion. and the life of these two bachelors, each wise to the other's folly, dreaming and traveling without getting anywhere and neither of them suspected that they were alike, the father's wealth was stardom and the son's stardom was finding wealth and this made all the difference in the world as far as they were concerned. Mr Osman used to enjoy reminding his son that its every father's job and responsibility to keep their sons alive and sometimes the young prince used to wonder if getting into trouble would perhaps present him his biggest break in life. "Maybe I was meant to suffer in my early life so that I would understand and appreciate being rich in my latter life when I finally make my millions and I know how weird that may sound to you" he raised his strong, bony face with an intent look. "Do you think there's such thing called LUCK" he asked Safia. Watching him she forgot to answer, she only gave him a smile and seemed to lean closer to him, though she didn't move an inch and her amazing smile drew all his attention to her lips, soft and fresh without a lipstick (Ibrahim never liked girls who wore lipstick) and he could hardly manage to disguise his genuine admiration towards her beauty. Safia's eyes were bright with promise as if she was holding back the secret path to his success only for the sake of sharing it with him on a more intimate occasion and from that day on, her smile never failed to move him to the depth of his whole being and for the first time Safia was tempted to become a different sort of person (Maybe Money & Status mattered to her after all)so that she could spend the rest of her remaining days with this naïve, poor but proud, trustful yet daring and happy guy and she silently wondered what it would feel like to live in the PARADISE of his PASSION...if only there were such a place on the map. He was beginning to see Safia as a good omen, he hasn't got nothing yet and he already met a rich girl who liked him genuinely and laughed at every silly joke he told, maybe she sensed that he was lucky too (even if he didn't believe in LUCK) he might just find his wealth sooner rather than later and marry her. Why not? He would be richer than she was and they could live happily ever after. Safia enjoyed his company immensely and everything he said seemed to awaken her soul and never more than when he suddenly said, "be careful as your unrivalled beauty and lively yet pretty eyes tell against you because you know what they say" "uhmm, ohh, Thanks, Uhmm, no I don't, What do they say?" "they say the bright and attractive people are discriminated against like all minorities" "Gosh, I never knew I was part of a dying breed" she joked, fighting to hide her blushes. Ibrahim just couldn't resist the opportunity to flatter and tease her at the same time and Safia loved every bit of it and remembering his confident grin when they first met had her beautiful mind racing. "And even if he makes me feel good and sexy its nothing personal" she reflected trying to regain her peace of mind. "I live in such an emotional palace, its no wonder a little flirting shakes me up, a new song, a good novel or even a good movie could have done that much for me" the better she reasoned the duller she felt and the day ceased to be perfect for the rich and beauty and her poor prince. Peace,Love & Unity.