Salama Caleykum w.w Pacifist, Azange Ngicaba Nge Ukuthi Isizulu Sakhe Silunge Kanje ..Wena Ugrand..Nyabonga . Peace,Love & Unity.

I dedicate the remaining episodes of this story to a great friend and a wonderful lady named Pacifist whom I wouldn't be here "again" without her efforts and who can forget the rest of the posse, Ms Faadumo Faarax aka Scarlet, Qori-Xabaalan, Conspiracy, my fellow Gooner and comrade 187 and our newest Gooner fan SoMa_InC, Good Looking Out Brothers & Sisters, B0B got nothing but LOOOF for all of you, May Peace Be With You All. The Story: "I was afraid you may never find your way to the Cafeteria" said Safia visibly delighted at the sight of her guest. "I almost gave up, you know?" replied Ibrahim. "That would've been ungentlemanly like of you, wouldn't you say so? teased Safia. "Well, I never said I was one and judging by what I’ve heard from my Dad, it's a heavy burden for a guy like me to bear" replied Ibrahim cheekily. "Ladies, always appreciate the company of a gentleman and believe me some ladies fall for a guy simply because of how he conducts himself in public especially in her presence" "Only for them to play him for a fool, right, so what's so gentle about humiliating a guy in front of all being?" interrupted Ibrahim. "Don't be silly" giggled Safia, "Now would you be gentleman enough to tell this Lady what she should call you?" she continued. "Oh, anything but Gentleman, Please, if that's not too much trouble for you, of course" joked the self-styled Prince. "Ha Ha Ha, Very funny" "My name is Ibrahim, the son of the greatest painter the world never heard of" boasted Ibrahim. "It's nice to meet you Ibrahim, the son of the greatest painter I've ever heard" complimented Safia."You know, I forgot to ask you about your name the other day then, maybe because I left in a hurry or sort of and when I got home...i just couldn't stop laughing at myself" confessed the beautiful rich girl,Safia." and I was afraid..you know". "Don't worry, at least neither of us is in a hurry today,at least I hope..so that you wont have to laugh at yourself ever again" said Ibrahim, looking directly into the most beautiful pair of eyes he's ever had the pleasure to look into. "Ha Ha Ha, I am sure I wont, thanks to you Mr Not So Gentleman" Laughed Safia who was enjoying the conversation more than she expected. "Do I need to hire a tour guide or you are going to be a lady enough to show me around" he teased. "Of course, how silly of me, Please this way" she stuttered embarrassingly. "You know, if you don't stop calling yourself all these derogatory names, I am afraid I am going to charge you for self battery" he joked. "Please Sir, take me now" she laughed putting her hands across suggesting to be handcuffed. Although the notion of a struggling painter's son that he was actually a mighty prince has its funny side, in truth it was very serious business with far reaching consequences both for good and ill, a poor child's dream is no idle fantasy, they are the means by which he creates the person he's going to become. Ibrahim did not disclose his dreams to anyone but his father who had a keen sense of the meaning of gestures, he could guess a great deal from his son's deafening silence and his manner of dealing with their lack of pleasant life, in other words, they have been poor for far too long. "Allah kan will end up doing something crazy with his life" became his father's daily statement. but unknown to this poverty stricken painter, this was no ordinary child, for years he couldn't quite decide whether he should keep on fantasizing about his imaginative aristocratic parents or accept his fate of being poor and find a fortune of his own and in one respect this singular boy was not unlike millions, he longed for the good life without either slaving or stealing for it and he was fully convinced that he was destined for a far better life filled with happiness and love and plenty of MONEY. "Had she been alive, your mother 'May Allah s.w rest her soul' would've said I failed to look after her beloved son' his father would protest every time he updated him with another episode of his money making scheme. Safia turned out to be the most cheerful person he's ever met and despite the noisy surroundings Ibrahim was giving a thorough account of himself, telling her about his parents and his poverty dominated background and he was telling her all these just to make her like him out of pity or make her feel sorry for him, but he was rather (bizarrely) bragging about the destiny that awaited him and how he was going to be a rich man one day soon. Safia was enjoying his company thoroughly and she also liked questioning him in a persistent while retaining her distant manner, a combination which he found confusing but she immediately understood that he wasn't a man who wanted to be liked out of pity, especially by a rich girl who had no idea what it felt like to be poor or go to bed with an empty stomach, he was more than that, at least in her eyes and luckily for him he was making a better impression that he thought he would. at first she was troubled by his naivety which she understood as arrogance and wondered whether he was prone to heartbreak or worse violence and even though he couldn't have appeared more docile, staring at her expensive clothes off with humble yet sad looking eyes, not quite knowing what to make of him, she found him fascinating, a rebel with cause who talked about all his favourite Palaces around the country even though he's never been near one in his entire life and it came to her as something of a shock when he suddenly announced how rich he was going to get and how many Palaces he would want to buy. "You know, to be rich is to be at war with the world Ibrahim" she confessed and who is he to argue with her for that statement, after all if she had no idea what it felt like to be poor then he had no idea whatsoever what it felt like to be rich. "Well, that is for me to find out" he replied with all the confidence in the world. See You Next Week Insha Allah....Have A Safe Weekend Everybody. Peace,Love & Unity.

In The Mist Of Madness. Traveling on a train to an unknown destination chasing my fading ancient ancestral dream seeking the missing piece of the puzzle that's my history from the rocky mountains to the valley of the kings passing through the birth place of my queen mother stopping by to bid farewell to my happy childhood somebody please help me find my stolen destiny I travel on leaving a piece of my soul behind resting where many souls were laid to rest baring my soul to the grieving sand I walk on tongue battered by the foreign lingo I pray in wishing my confusion and dilemma a Godspeed a lost son on his way to a lost cause I became staring back at the face of defeat in his shadow once a native before the storm of divisions hit an innocent child caught up between feuding seasons forced to take a bow..out of fear and unending shame I travel on through the uncertainty with hope hoping to find a house I can one day turn it into a home I introduce my present pain to my past misery praying to restore my humanity in the mist of all these madness. Peace,Love & Unity.

Wishful Heart: Today is filled with anger, fueled with hidden hate scared of being an outcast, afraid of common fate today is built on tragedies which no one wants to face nightmares to humanity and morally disgraced tonight is filled with Rage, violence in the air children bred with ruthlessness for no one at home cares tonight I lay my head down but the pressure never stops knowing that my sanity content when I'm dropped but tomorrow I see change, a chance to build a new build on spirit intent of heart and ideas based on truth tomorrow I wake with second wind because of hope I know I fought with all my heart to keep the dream alive the darkness of the mind is my festering corruption it infects my soul like an endless seduction without interruption I touch your voice and thoughts i catch your visions before they are sought i fought off a breath you just exhaled knowing what its absorption truly entailed you ail me with such simple distractions without releasing even the slightest abstractions my attraction to you grows with every smile that glows from your wonderful being, so I write it in prose i compose these words to expose in testament a bird's song to your voice isn't a just sentiment commitment may be a fear embedded deep within your heart but lend it to me and I affirm mine won't ever depart. Peace,Love & Unity.

Forever I search wishing forever is what I find i listen to the sugar merchant's tale a new found home after ours' decline for now is the time to set your sails assign your ports where you see fit and men shall trade upon your shores and they shall say.."God, this is it!" so take their tributes for they are yours you prosper as the day goes by and share whatever wealth received steer away from men who ill advise keep away from kings and queens deceived a word of caution to those who go let not the worldly riches let you rot I ask the merchant how he knows 'Masha Allah, how could I have not? i look towards the blood red sky for hope as I travel these fearful enchanting seas seeking forever hoping to find forever before dawn I rise to realize tranquility I found I stand before my creator and exclaim "Please forgive me". Peace,Love & Unity.

Kafaaxiye, Bro,you put us all in trouble now...people will soon want to know if the man in my Avatar is actually me and you know that means TROUBLE! @ Alexus,Mickey Mouse kulahaa..He's a Somali Brother who looks to have won the lottery..hence his full smile and can you blame him for that? Peace,Love & Unity.

Mr Osman, knew his son was an intelligent young man but what he didn't know is that his son was, if there ever was one, an intelligent fool and as every parent would, he was hoping, no, he was praying that for once in his life, he was wrong about his son and he underestimated his intelligence and his street-smart ways that no aristocratic kid would ever know about, after all being poor has its advantages that no poor man in the world would ever come to admit. Poverty taught this likeable family so many lessons and being a struggling artist who's been out of work for 18 years had left a deep stain on Mr Osman's conscience thus making him come to the gravy conclusion of, men aren't brothers but strangers and no one cared or interested in a down and out man, people just do not give a damn about each other. Mankind we are told, is divided into the haves and have-nots, but there are those who both have the good and do not and they lead the tensest lives. Young Ibrahim learned the full extent of his father's worthlessness from the violent arguments between his dad and his would-be clients. "I met so-and-so" his father would say , "he thinks he has a potential buyer for my paintings". in fairness to Mr Osman, it must be noted that under the circumstances he was a model family man and the greatest Dad to his only child and no matter what, would never part from his beloved son and he made heroic efforts to keep his young son housed, clothed and fed, spending almost nothing on himself and even giving up on chewing Jaad and smoking cigarettes in order to save whatever little money he's earned through his paintings and he was more than happy to do anything just to see his son happy and grow. Most children who are subjected to extreme poverty tend to develop insecurity and are blighted for life by the threats to their survival; panic dissolves their inner strength and turns it into venom, they either grow humble or spineless vicious but thanks to Mr Osman his son saw himself as a Prince and Safia his chosen Princess. What does a true Prince know about hunger and starvation, in his mind he was already a Prince, a proud one with an independent spirit, he saw himself as a man of integrity who didn't look down on nobody, even if your name happened to be Xaaji Lacag and definitely our prince didn't mind mixing with the common man, that is why he was content to commute daily on the bus to and from his castle (School) and he had no desire to get involved in sordid wrangles with indifferent and hostile people for he covets nothing that is theirs, he only wants what is his by birthright and he saw Safia as his god given soul mate and no one dare argue with a Prince. Shy and withdrawn by nature and habit, never staying anywhere long enough to make friends, Ibrahim lived in his head thus making him a strange loner and through curiosity he became interested in history and later in romantic novels, the reason being that History confirmed his convictions and romantic novels reassured him that it could be done. Peace,Love & Unity.

Sayyid Muhammed Abdulle Hassan University is the most sought-after school in the land and it was exclusively for the spoiled brats in other words for rich kids as only few chosen ones could afford it and that is something our poor friend knew only too well. Aristocracy is always cruel but credit to him for not letting it dent his hopes, in fact he was looking forward to he and Safia's second meeting and only God knows how many times he read the note and through the whole day he was replaying the whole scene bit by bit and he was amazed how beautiful yet friendly she was and how he wished that he could say the same about the girls at Moallim Basheer College which he attended. The great ambitions numb the pain of ridicule and he wasn't only an ambitious young man but mighty brave as well and though he was painfully poor he was a very proud kid and he idolized his poor but very articulate father beyond words. He hated and cursed the world for not giving his Dad the break that he desperately craved for and his father was always diplomatic and somewhat philosophic about his failure as he liked to say "Success is only delayed failure". "Come on Dad, you know you're a great painter who deserves far better than this" would be the immediate reply of his son and his sole companion for the past four years. "Dad, I am going to Sayyid Muhammad University tomorrow" announced our very much smitten friend. "Oh yeah? What..they finally came to their senses and reduced their ridiculous fee?" "Dad, I am not joking, I am going there to meet a friend that I've met earlier today on the bus" continued the dreamer. "A friend that rides on the cheapest bus in the land and yet rich enough to afford one of the most expensive schools in the whole world?...Come on dearest boy, you should know better than that." said the Aabo in sarcastic way. "Aabo, do you know a man named Xaaji Lacag and would you ever stop calling me a 'Boy' protested the son. "If Xaaji Lacag is the father of this bus commuting friend of yours then I am the father of the future millionaire" joked Mr Osman, who was in a joyous mood today. "Aabo, who is Xaaji Lacag anyway and is he some one that I should know about? And by the way this friend is in fact She rather than He and yes you are already the proud Dad of the future millionaire" "Xaaji Lacag is one of the richest men in the country that is why it defines logic his offspring would ride a bus, Son, check your pockets and wallet and see if there’s anything missing cause something isn't right here" warned Mr Osman who was every bit serious now. "Dad, come on now and relax please, no thief in the world would find anything worth stealing in either my wallet or in my bag and one of these days you ought to give me more credit than you are prepared to give me now and please stop treating me like a Doqon, I wouldn't disgrace my kind and become the first poor child with extremely low IQ and I promise you, one day I will be rich and famous, I just need a ride to get to the audition" joked the son and they both laughed on this off the wall statement. They were poor and lived in a tiny guri with a single bedroom but they were happy especially in each other's company as they always cheered each other up and put a genuine smile on each other's faces. Deep inside his father was worried sick not because of his son's naivety by believing a girl from such an immensely wealthy back ground would have the time of the day for his poverty stricken son, this wasn't clash of cultures, far from it, this was rather clash of class and Mr Osman knew only too well that only money could find money and though his beloved son had the looks and the charm to boot, he lacked behind, perhaps when it came to the most vital part and that was indeed MONEY. Truth be told, looks never won a man no fortune and the painful reality is that, the poor, of course suffer the oppression of scarcity from the cradle to the grave, even if she was indeed the daughter of Xaaji Lacag as she claims to be, (he showed his fathjer the note that safia wrote)then how could his son ever explain to her what the word 'Hunger' meant, that became he and his son's anthem and where on earth could he take her to with his few cents suppose she agreed to go out on a date with him, let's face it this girl wont be content with the dirty and cheap Muufo & Macsaro restaurants that he and his son dined frequently. Peace,Love & Unity.

Yeah i did and i am a PROUD MEMBER now..am looking forward to embarrassing myself Peace,Love & Unity.

My beloved Sister Juxa.. Welcome Back, i am honoured to welcome you Back and I apologize for keeping you waiting. "Excuse me,is this seat taken Aboowe"? asked politely by the most beautiful girl he's ever had the pleasure to lay his eyes on. "By who..uhmmm..I mean No Abaayo". He mumbled loudly and nervously still wearing the headphone. Safia quickly spotted this and realized why the handsome young man with sad looking eyes answered loudly, she pointed at his headphone and asked him to remove and which he did and spared himself any more embarrassment. "Thanks Walaal" she said with the most beautiful smile he's ever seen. She isn't only blessed with a great body but she also has a hypnotic eyes and a great set of white teeth and Oh.. her sweet smelling perfume and all those expensive looking jewelry.. she must come from a wealthy family he thought..but that can't be..No No..she wouldn't be riding this bus with me if she came from a rich family" he argued with himself when she interrupted. "so you like music huh"? she asked trying to get him into talking to her instead of staring at her which is exactly what he was doing shamelessly and continuously. "Yeah..but I am listening to Sheikh Mohamed Al Muheisini.. God, I love this Sheikh, May Allah s.w reward him with Jannah" he replied with a faint smile. Oh great, he doesn't stutter, that is wonderful. she thought. "Though I listen to music I wouldn't say I like it, whenever I choose to listen I prefer our Somali songs to any other" she confessed. "I rarely listen to Somali songs..they somehow make me sad and remind me of my Mom" he said in a sad tone. "What happened to Hooyo, Sorry I couldn't help asking Aboowe" and flashed her million watts smile. "Oh, she passed away when I was fifteen" and for the first time in his life he didn't feel sad and hasn't felt tears in his eyes in his eyes.. in fact he was amazed by her kindness, he couldn't believe she called his mother 'Hooyo'. not only was she pretty and friendly but she is also kind. Again another argument developed within his head and it was like he was desperately trying to convince his heart & soul to like this strange and beautiful girl immediately. "Oooh, I am so sorry, ilaahey hau naxariisto Hooyo Aboowe" she whispered in a true sadness and genuinely felt sorry for him because she knew how much she loved her Mom and couldn't imagine life without her. Suddenly the bus stopped and came the familiar hissing as the front doors creaked open and in stepped a neatly dressed man with dark glasses and signaled at their direction and began to whisper into his walkie-talkie and everybody kept on staring at him for almost half a minute before he finally put his walkie-talkie in his pocket and removed his dark glasses and calmly said.. "Safia, sorry, I came as soon as I could". she didn't seem impressed and only nodded slightly. "That's Mr Issa, my father's right hand man, he came eight minutes too late and I couldn't wait any longer , I hate being late for school and decided to take the bus instead" she said like she needed to explain her conducts to this novice guy with one of the saddest eyes she's ever seen. She walked out in the same grace when she first boarded this God forsaken and old bus that he's been riding to school for the past twelve months and strange enough everyone was sad to see her journey come to an abrupt, thanks to this serious looking man with the walkie-talkie. She went over to Issa and whispered something to him and then turned to the driver and generously smiled at him and said few things and immediately the bus driver nodded in agreement. She removed pen and pad from her expensive looking bag, (it was an expensive custom made handbag from the world famous designer Mr Maqaar) and began to write. "it was nice to meet you and I am sorry for reminding you of your late Mom, I didn't mean to upset you, I was only trying to make a conversation Aboowe" she said in her that sweet voice of hers and at the same time handed him the note. "it was nice meeting you too..ehh..uhhmm" he stuttered again. "Safia, the name is Safia and don't you forget it" she ordered with that cute smile of hers and she was gone just as she suddenly appeared. Suddenly he became the most interesting figure on the bus and now everybody was staring at him including the driver, who kept glancing at his direction every now and then and whenever their eyes caught, he smiled and it surprised him that the rest of the passengers smiling and not afraid to show their sudden mood swing, the same people who few minutes ago seemed disinterested in anything and everything including the most beautiful girl that ever set a foot on Almighty's earth. He couldn't wait to see and read what was on the note and certainly couldn't do it in front of all these people who now settled into staring at him and watched his every move even when he scratched his head and shuffled his hair. "at the corner of SYL Avenue please" he announced, it seemed strange because in all the 12 months he was riding this Bus, he never got off at SYL Avenue, he always got off the bus exactly at Aden Cadde Avenue and now that was few streets and few good minutes of walk away, but today he didn't care and wasn't worried about being late for school, in his eyes, he had far more important issue to take care of before anything else and that was reading Safia's note. Salam Aboowe, My name is Safia Xaaji Lacag, I am a second year student at Sayid Mohammed Abdulle Hassan College and I hope in God's will we meet once again and this time hopefully we won't have any bodyguards interrupting us. You can come down at my college on Wednesday (Today is Sunday) and I will meet you at the Cafeteria at 11:30 AM sharp and don't be late. Yours Truly Safia. Xaaji Lacag, as his name clearly states owned more than half of the city while our dear friend's Dad owned not more than few worn out Macawiis that he bought from the Friday Second Hand Market and his son's pocket money for the whole day was mere 10 Shilling, while Safia spent more than 100 Shilling at Gas for her sports car everyday and just seemed to like the guy with the sad eyes out of pity and here was a guy from one of the poorest family in the entire city thinking the daughter of the richest man in the city had interest in him. May God Bless The Dreamers. Peace,Love & Unity.

Brother Rudy... Don't you think it's about time you did some growing up of yours as well and started to become a Good Role Model to your sisters and brothers or those around you by simply addressing them with good names... We made the name Xaliimo and Faarax sound offensive and this is the first phase of losing track by teasing those among us with good muslim and noble names like Xaliimo and Faarax and before we know it we will tease those called Muhammed and make them believe their parents are backwards by calling them Muhammad and not Micheal... i say let's stop degrading our good muslim names and let's give the name Xaliima the honour it deserves after all a certain lady named Xalima-Sa'dia (R.A) breast fed our noble Prophet Muhammad p.b.u.h.... now do you know any John or Jane with such an honour and fortunate enough to breastfeed and care for the greatest and purest of pure,the most noble of all mankind? Brother...i pray to almighty Allah s.w may guide us all through the right path Insha Allah. Peace,Love & Unity.

Once upon a time we were all innocent and didn't know what the word Homosexual or Lesbian meant including those among us who "Spoke" english but since we came to non-muslim countries we slowly integrated and got used to their culture and mastered the art in speaking their languages (thanks to many years of hard work) and started to celeberate their holidays and now it's not unusual to find a somali guy or a girl with a homesuxal friend because "they told you it's OK" and we took their word for it... My point? only those from Islamic countries would be offended and i,honestly speaking don't believe a Somali from Kenya,Tanzania or any other African country would be "shocked" to see two men kissing because they may have already seen either in a Film or in those filthy magazines they sell in everywhere..those of you who have been to Nairobi may have seen porn magz being sold in Town with full view of the public including children... He who says Living in a Non-Muslim country is prosperous is a LIAR..spit on his/her face unless you want to lead a Godless life. May Allah s.w Lead Us All Through The Righ Path Insha Allah...Aamiin. Peace,Love & Unity.

Salaam All... Fabio Liverani is half Somali..his Mom is Somali and his Dad is Italian..Hence his Italian Name.. imagine a Maryooleey from Somalia telling you his name is..John Faarax..Micheal Samatar...Lucy Jaamac...Peter Geedi...Susan Warsame and i am afraid those are the sort of names we are going to hear in future..Allahuma Najinaa. Peace,Love & Unity.

Thanks Bro... have no fear because i guarantee you that i am far better player than a Coach and the kids that i coach at weekends never won anything Peace,Love & Unity.

The Notorious 1-8-7, Yeah he is a nice kid and his girlfriend is HOT .. there is a Somali kid named Fuad and they used to be in the same junior team and good friends but unfortunately Fuad broke his leg and when he recovered his parents refused him to carry on playing football and i wastold that the Chairman of Pirates came to Fuad's home to see if he could make his parentschange their mind but unfortunately couldn't and as they say..The rest is history...i am not being bias but i believe Fuad was more talented than Cheese_Boy! he doesn't score many goals and but whe he does they tend to be a special goals..i will be lying if i said he is or he isn't good in the air bro..cause i have never seen him score with his head so i am afraid i can't tell you about his heading ability... i don't have videos of him but i think i can get them..(i hope). Peace,Love & Unity.

Originally posted by SoMa_InC: Sup Bob? Sxb Bafana Bafana is history, get over it Salama Caleykum W.W my brother from another Mother...SoMa_InC .. Bro...i have never ever supported Bafana Bafana in my life...locally i like Kaizer Chiefs simply because of their beautiful Football and if you guys remember when Spurs came here to play two friendly matches against Chiefs & Pirates.. i was at the Stadium the second match when they played against Chiefs and this same player (Pule) made Jamie Rednapp look ridiculous footballer and i had to stand up and clap for him when he put the ball through his legs twice in a same move.. ..try to get a video or dvd of that match and watch it..then you will realize how talented Pule is . Peace,Love & Unity.

all this time it never came to my mind to read this topic even once simply because i am DOQON enough to think you guys were talking about a real Ramadan football tournament and many times i was tempted to read but somehow i never did... Thanks to my Arsenal Comrade...Notorious_187 who finally informed me about it and I AM FINALLY HERE...consider me a Rookie Manager from the Championship Waryaa NGONGE you better approve my application as soon as possible or face the sack! PS. Ladies & Gentlemen...salute the one and only BOB aka Spuer_Star. Peace,Love & Unity.

Originally posted by The Notorious 1-8-7: Another young South African now with the Orlando Pirates, goes by the name of Lebohang Mokoena, will surely be good player. I noticed him in the Football Manager game, and he was just awesome. Pule is far superior to all those you mentioned above, I believe if he'd had a father at home to look up to today we would’ve all been too happy to shower him with accolades but Pule grew up idolizing Thugs and that is the difference between him and those other players. Lebohang Mokoena aka "Cheese Boy" is a talented youngster, he's 18 and has already played Africa Cup of Nations at Egypt and big and bright future is expected and predicted for him as well and he comes from a good family background and his Dad is always with him and he's not allowed to go out on weekdays as he's still at school and on weekends his parents expect him to be home at 11:30-12:00 at the latest. last year his team Orlando Pirates won a league cup and he left the after party at 10:00 PM with the Chairman simply because the Chairman agreed he'd bring him home at 10:00 (he was 17 then). anyway so far he seems to have his feet firmly on the ground and he always speaks highly of his family and the important role they play not only in his life but also his career and that's a good sign. he likes to dribble too much and sometimes he does outrageous things but that is always a good sign in a young player, most players tend to get cold feet in big matches but great players rise to the occasion and that's what Mokoena and Pule have in common. Peace,Love & Unity.

Guys be patient dee Aggah, don't you know that Authors (yeah, I am a Dreamer) HATE to be hurried and pushed more than anything else including by their publishers? I will post as soon as I write Insha Allah don't you worry and guys get ready to relive that awful memory and frustrating moment when you first started noticing the cutie sitting next to you in the class and you didn't know what to say to her even when you knew she liked you alright and encouraged you to make a move. PS. Bashka, Safia is a classy lady and in my opinion any self respecting classy lady has got to have a wide range of Dirac,expect to see (read) Safia wearing the latest Dirac on a date. Peace,Love & Unity.

Alxamdu-lillaah I don't smoke and I hope and pray that I never will. I also hope you overcome this struggle and defeat the temptation and ultimately manage to quit it for good Insha Allah and I believe you can do it my brother. Peace,Love & Unity.

Congrats Brother Kheyr and may Allah s.w guide him/her through the righteous path that leads to a fruitful hereafter Insha Allah. May Peace Be With You and all your loved ones Insha Allah. Peace,Love & Unity.

Originally posted by Lost_Hope_4_Somalia: walahi this is a disgrace. :mad: Why it's a disgrace and tragic only when US personnel is said to be "Attacked" and yet so glorious when they bomb and kill innocent people just they like they do everyday in everywhere they are? They help who? is there any country in the world that US has helped apart from Israel for obvious reasons? All they do is rob, kill and rape and that is all there's to it. They say the "attack" took place off the coast of Somalia but only those blinded by their blatant lies and bullsh!t would believe that garbage and there is no way in the world a man with a speedboat would launch an attack against a warship..Please. They are portraying Somalis as stup!d people just like they did in Blackhawk Down. Peace,Love & Unity.

There he sat with his head resting against the Bus window. The bus was empty except for the regular faces that joined him every morning. Silence was commonplace for their commute into the crowded city. He took a disinterested glance around at the other passengers; One offered a slight nod, and another a trained smile. He'd been riding the same bus for a year now yet he didn't know their names. They were there, that was enough for him. Routine had slowly transferred to comfort and security. After confirming that nothing was out of place, he was content. Letting out a low sigh he reached into his messenger bag for his Ipod. What would be the soundtrack for today? The noble Qur’an, he argued with himself. He pressed play, brought the headphones to his ears and closed his eyes. The bus jerked without warning. The sudden brake nearly threw him from his seat. He quickly braced himself with an arm grabbing the back of the row in front of him, waiting for the impact... "War hana dilin" screamed most passengers at the driver but fortunately nothing happened. He unclenched his jaw trying to calm the nerves and adrenaline that now instinctively surged through him. Remarkably he seemed to be the only one concerned. The rest of the passengers still sat in their normal, complacent silence. Did they not notice? Then he heard the familiar hissing as the front doors creaked open. The sound somehow reminded him of the Funeral Parlour and the sound of a new coffin. But the figure that ascended the steps was nothing close to a creature out of a horror movie. She was beautiful. Chocolate skin, beautiful brown eyes and dark hair that framed her face perfectly. As she reached the last step onto the bus, the rising sun behind the windshield surrounded her silhouette. It was cinematic. If he had bothered to look at the scattered passengers and seen how oblivious they were to her arrival he wouldn't have believed she was real. Instead, he sat motionless with a gaping mouth,even forgetting to blink and enjoying every second of this amazing beauty and and thanking God for the opportunity to see her. The bus jerked again, easier this time, and merged back into heavy traffic. He was still starring at the unexpected beauty, unable to break his gaze. he watched her walk down the isle with a calm confidence; her long skirt flowing lightly. Her feet barely seemed to touch the bus floor. She must have been a ballerina, he thought. He'd never seen a woman handle herself with such elegance and grace. Lost in her gentle sway, he hadn't realized she was heading right to his row! Shifting nervously, his heart pounded like a piston in his chest. a few beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. The Ipod was still playing, but the sound seemed distant now. His eyes quickly darted around anxiously. She approached his row as he took in a deep breath... PS. This is the Somali Maryooleey version of "Chasing Amy"... Peace,Love & Unity.

Welcome Aboard Sister. Peace,Love & Unity.

Any one fancy her for a Wifey? Am glad i am not an Afghan and i have no intention of going anywhere near this Killer-Ayeeyo or Killer-Qooleey! Peace,Love & Unity.