Originally posted by xiinfaniin: ^^Waryee af xumidaa ninyahow! Acuudka! Well excuuuuuse me! A little too effete to push an extra button are we?

"Stuff and Nonsense", my big forehead! Originally posted by Abtigiis & Tusbax: Let the Hargeisa-Burco-Berbera traingle declare itself the 'LESOTHO' of the horn. war nimanyahow, reer triangleka ah, sadex baan ku qabnaa, UN-tana marqaanti bay ka ahayd waagaan ku qabanay iyagoo britishku ee soo faraxumeeyeen, mana furi doono weligeen! marka saaxiibyaal calaacalka meesha kalabaxa. :cool: dhulQarnayn Republic Of California

Melancholy by Baron Wormser Weakness—the pale succumbing to loneliness, Refusing to admit anyone else, indulging The blue perquisites of adolescence Long past their sensible deliquescence. He knew it but went on drinking and regretting, Not calling his friends and regretting, Making scenes over nothing and regretting. It helped to make him despise himself, Which was, he sensed, what he wanted. He was Then, in his oblique way, at ease to wander The city's brazen or quiet streets, conjuring Random lives and how the slim arc Of emotion was pulverized. Back home, he put On some Monk, lay down, half-cried.

The hour before dawn, the hour of silence, when time seems to stand still. Dawn, the hour when we think our loneliest thoughts, when we beseech God, and search for understanding deep in our hearts, our essence. What is the secret that keeps our people alive, what pain, what breath? Over and over, the question returns to haunt us. Suddenly, impressions of mayhem flood my mind: war and conflict are raging, Somalis are being driven from their homes, bombed, gunned down, abused, tormented... concentrated in death camps. Humiliated for a name, an origin, an identity. Humiliated, and then forgotten. It was only yesterday, and in the mists of my memory, their faces are simultaneously engraved and obliterated by the immensity of the evil wrought upon them. Are we not responsible for our history? Can it be that we have not learned to confront our demons? The taste in my mouth is repulsive, bitter. Today is so like yesterday. Where have we come, in fact? Are we innocents droning on for all to hear about their insignificant lapses? Bedlamites carried away by ignorance of what they have done? Monsters possessed, by their thirst for power and control? Who are we? Yesterday’s victims, today’s killers... suffering at dusk, dictators at dawn? And when the long night is over, what will we have become? Who, finally, are we? What memory can we call our own? The same images: of those driven from their homes, bombed, gunned down, abused, tormented...concentrated in camps of the selfsame death. Today, like yesterday. They knew, of course. And they let it happen... Today, we know. We let it happen. The cravenness is deep. The hour before dawn, the hour of silence, when time seems to stand still. Suddenly, I feel I must speak with my sister, my brother. To whisper to them what lies in the heart. A secret. Down deep, I do not know what we have become;I cannot know our hopes, our aspirations. I no longer know the value of our promises, so much have we betrayed each other. My sister, my brother, if our life’s blood has any meaning, it is time to awaken our shared memories. It is time for us to awaken; to resist. We have been deceived. How beautiful were our dreams; how ugly the reality. They spoke to us of peace as one would speak of hope: something for us, beyond us, without us. Without effort. We witness a destiny free of memory, of sacrifice, of justice. Without dignity. Under the unfathomed blue skies of Somalia, I can hear the deadened melodies of contrition, of sustained guilt, of a slowly throttling ailment; I would like to become the ambassador of the unvoiced, of the doomed, the friendless and the refugee, those who have paid the price for our meekness. I would like us to invigorate our national bond with those victims, the memory of dusk that brings forth the demanding justice of the dawn. To awaken us from the long night of our history. How I would like to do that! The hour before dawn, the hour of silence, when time seems to stand still. To live for peace! To stand up at last, in the name of those driven from their homes, bombed, gunned down, abused, tormented... assembled for death, today like yesterday. To become the conscience of the downtrodden . For here love, dignity, and hope lie hidden. Here faith is born, the breath of life, the task that lies before us. This, finally, is the price of peace: among us, with us, for us all. Never give up. Simple, when you come down to it. But at the heart of this deafening silence, here amongst brothers, I know no other secret.

The hour before dawn, the hour of silence, when time seems to stand still. Dawn, the hour when we think our loneliest thoughts, when we beseech God, and search for understanding deep in our hearts, our essence. What is the secret that keeps our people alive, what pain, what breath? Over and over, the question returns to haunt us. Suddenly, impressions of mayhem flood my mind: war and conflict are raging, Somalis are being driven from their homes, bombed, gunned down, abused, tormented... concentrated in death camps. Humiliated for a name, an origin, an identity. Humiliated, and then forgotten. It was only yesterday, and in the mists of my memory, their faces are simultaneously engraved and obliterated by the immensity of the evil wrought upon them. Are we not responsible for our history? Can it be that we have not learned to confront our demons? The taste in my mouth is repulsive, bitter. Today is so like yesterday. Where have we come, in fact? Are we innocents droning on for all to hear about their insignificant lapses? Bedlamites carried away by ignorance of what they have done? Monsters possessed, by their thirst for power and control? Who are we? Yesterday’s victims, today’s killers... suffering at dusk, dictators at dawn? And when the long night is over, what will we have become? Who, finally, are we? What memory can we call our own? The same images: of those driven from their homes, bombed, gunned down, abused, tormented...concentrated in camps of the selfsame death. Today, like yesterday. They knew, of course. And they let it happen... Today, we know. We let it happen. The cravenness is deep. The hour before dawn, the hour of silence, when time seems to stand still. Suddenly, I feel I must speak with my sister, my brother. To whisper to them what lies in the heart. A secret. Down deep, I do not know what we have become;I cannot know our hopes, our aspirations. I no longer know the value of our promises, so much have we betrayed each other. My sister, my brother, if our life’s blood has any meaning, it is time to awaken our shared memories. It is time for us to awaken; to resist. We have been deceived. How beautiful were our dreams; how ugly the reality. They spoke to us of peace as one would speak of hope: something for us, beyond us, without us. Without effort. We witness a destiny free of memory, of sacrifice, of justice. Without dignity. Under the unfathomed blue skies of Somalia, I can hear the deadened melodies of contrition, of sustained guilt, of a slowly throttling ailment; I would like to become the ambassador of the unvoiced, of the doomed, the friendless and the refugee, those who have paid the price for our meekness. I would like us to invigorate our national bond with those victims, the memory of dusk that brings forth the demanding justice of the dawn. To awaken us from the long night of our history. How I would like to do that! The hour before dawn, the hour of silence, when time seems to stand still. To live for peace! To stand up at last, in the name of those driven from their homes, bombed, gunned down, abused, tormented... assembled for death, today like yesterday. To become the conscience of the downtrodden . For here love, dignity, and hope lie hidden. Here faith is born, the breath of life, the task that lies before us. This, finally, is the price of peace: among us, with us, for us all. Never give up. Simple, when you come down to it. But at the heart of this deafening silence, here amongst brothers, I know no other secret.

Waryaa DUKE... war nimankaan il inay kugu ridaan kama baqaysid miyaa? why do you insist on remaining such an avid supporter of the so called TFG, especially with all the "hateration" eminating from this forum? Saaxiib, these guys will make you impotent with their "habaar" n shit, so chill out on the support.

Walahi, this thread is bloody hilarious. War nimanyahow kama daashaan miyaa, this back and forth with the very loyal Duke of Somalia.lol

The hour before dawn, the hour of silence, when time seems to stand still. Dawn, the hour when we think our loneliest thoughts, when we beseech God, and search for understanding deep in our hearts, our essence. What is the secret that keeps our people alive, what pain, what breath? Over and over, the question returns to haunt us. Suddenly, impressions of mayhem flood my mind: war and conflict are raging, Somalis are being driven from their homes, bombed, gunned down, abused, tormented... concentrated in death camps. Humiliated for a name, an origin, an identity. Humiliated, and then forgotten. It was only yesterday, and in the mists of my memory, their faces are simultaneously engraved and obliterated by the immensity of the evil wrought upon them. Are we not responsible for our history? Can it be that we have not learned to confront our demons? The taste in my mouth is repulsive, bitter. Today is so like yesterday. Where have we come, in fact? Are we innocents droning on for all to hear about their insignificant lapses? Bedlamites carried away by ignorance of what they have done? Monsters possessed, by their thirst for power and control? Who are we? Yesterday’s victims, today’s killers... suffering at dusk, dictators at dawn? And when the long night is over, what will we have become? Who, finally, are we? What memory can we call our own? The same images: of those driven from their homes, bombed, gunned down, abused, tormented...concentrated in camps of the selfsame death. Today, like yesterday. They knew, of course. And they let it happen... Today, we know. We let it happen. The cravenness is deep. The hour before dawn, the hour of silence, when time seems to stand still. Suddenly, I feel I must speak with my sister, my brother. To whisper to them what lies in the heart. A secret. Down deep, I do not know what we have become;I cannot know our hopes, our aspirations. I no longer know the value of our promises, so much have we betrayed each other. My sister, my brother, if our life’s blood has any meaning, it is time to awaken our shared memories. It is time for us to awaken; to resist. We have been deceived. How beautiful were our dreams; how ugly the reality. They spoke to us of peace as one would speak of hope: something for us, beyond us, without us. Without effort. We witness a destiny free of memory, of sacrifice, of justice. Without dignity. Under the unfathomed blue skies of Somalia, I can hear the deadened melodies of contrition, of sustained guilt, of a slowly throttling ailment; I would like to become the ambassador of the unvoiced, of the doomed, the friendless and the refugee, those who have paid the price for our meekness. I would like us to invigorate our national bond with those victims, the memory of dusk that brings forth the demanding justice of the dawn. To awaken us from the long night of our history. How I would like to do that! The hour before dawn, the hour of silence, when time seems to stand still. To live for peace! To stand up at last, in the name of those driven from their homes, bombed, gunned down, abused, tormented... assembled for death, today like yesterday. To become the conscience of the downtrodden . For here love, dignity, and hope lie hidden. Here faith is born, the breath of life, the task that lies before us. This, finally, is the price of peace: among us, with us, for us all. Never give up. Simple, when you come down to it. But at the heart of this deafening silence, here amongst brothers, I know no other secret.

Up against the Sea by David Wagoner At the foot of the cliff, the sea is taking back what it left there long ago, and the landowners have made a barricade of three old cars between low and high tide and loaded them with so many river stones, they've been weighed down below their springs, below their shock absorbers. The waves are breaking over the side panels, on blurred teenage graffiti, and barnacles and tougher limpets have made themselves at home on mats and cushions, on the salt versions of vinyl and rust. The sea is welcoming all of them, as ever, as passengers at the end of a lover's leap, at the beginning of a joy ride down an old lover's lane again.

hey wanker! firstly, do you support shabab and if you do why? do you think their current strategy of hit and run warfare will work.

pure emotionalism unknown1 , and not worthy of being responded to. But I gotta ask...what is your gender?

I'm posting, here, ... ... just to state that I won't post a post in this topic to answer the topic-Q. So I will not post a post. ... ... X-cept this one that is not in agreement with the topic-Q. It is an anti-post, ... not a post to support the topic Q If you (the reader) think I am posting in conclave with the topic-Q, ... ... you are wrong, ... ... you should think the oposite. I say not, ... not yes.

Quiet After the Rain of Morning by Joseph Trumbull Stickney Quiet after the rain of morning Midday covers the dampened trees; Sweet and fresh in the languid breeze Still returning Birds are twittering at ease. And to me in the far and foreign Land as further I go and come, Sweetly over the wearisome Endless barren Flutter whisperings of home. There between the two hillocks lightens Straight and little a bluish bar: I feel the strain of the mariner Grows and tightens After home and after her.

In the 1960s and 1970s, the army used to seize power in the developing nations. The military felt they could run nations better than the politicians of the time. Of course there are countries such as Pakistan where, because of land-related conflicts with neighbours, the military is never far-off from the corridors of power. Even in Pakistan and in most developing nations people now recognise, military rule is unmitigated disaster. The military is best to look after defence matters. The question is: will the use of religion bring a good government for Somalia? It is true, according to the Holy Qur’an we are required to rule ourselves by the word of the Almighty. Unfortunately, many Muslims confuse Sharia (the judiciary) with public administration (political matters). The judiciary is one of the pillars of the state. Governing, like the Judiciary has its separate path. Normally a medical doctor will not be a dentist; the same way a veterinarian is not a physician trained to cure humans. Every field has its own path and every field requires its specialists. That is why the Almighty wants mankind to seek knowledge. In the Hadith HASAN MASHHÛR – the Prophet impressed upon Muslims to seek knowledge no matter how far the distant — even as far as China: "Seeking knowledge is an obligation upon every Muslim." In the 16th century, the churches used to rule in Europe. It is now many centuries since religion and politics have been separated in the West. We must ask, why? The reason is because religion and politics are lethal mix. Again we must ask, why? The problem is not religion. The problem is man. Guns do not kill. It is man who uses them to kill. The use of religion is subject to interpretation. Ten witnesses of one incident are likely to tell ten different stories (versions). Man has issues and flaws such as bias, attitude, greed, ego and many more. He or she also had a certain upbringing and certain schooling. The person who rules does not come out of a box like brand-new merchandise. An individual has a background, which shaped one’s outlook and attitude. Another important factor concerns values. Values come from one’s environment and upbringing. Values ( qiyam) are cherished things such as land, flag, nation etc. If one’s parent(s) were clannish, one is likely to be clannish. Anyone can learn the entire Holy book by heart. One’s fairness (fair-mindedness) and judiciousness does not come by the mere reading of the holy book — they stem from other factors. A good government cannot be without positive criticism and constructive dissent. Man is fallible and those who rule need to be told when they are wrong. If mistakes are not mentioned how else will they be addressed? Unfortunately, it is hard to criticize clerics who use religion to rule. They will not tolerate dissent as they are likely to believe their verdicts are divinely inspired. They will dismiss any critic of their actions and will swing to swift action. What a man does is done by man. It has nothing to do with divinity. In the eyes of the Creator everybody is equal. And no-one is a direct representative of God after the prophets. The Somali people applaud the peace agreement reached in Djibouti on 9 June 2008. It is a good start which paves the way for a lasting peace in Somalia. The situation is very intricate and complex, but because of the peace agreement a new beginning has been achieved. It looks the Courts’ side which was a party to the negotiations have come a long way. This peace agreement if unhindered will end the presence of the Ethiopian forces in Somalia. The Somali people recognize that the Courts’ leadership which has signed the peace accord has shown a willingness to put the national interests above personal gain. The people also recognize the endeavour of the TFG side headed by the Prime Minister Nur Adde to bring a lasting peace to Somalia. It is not wise to oppose this peace agreement at its embryonic stage. This would not serve in the best interest of our nation. The continuation of violence will only prolong the misery of our people and leave no option for Ethiopian other than to remain in Somalia. It is always right to do what is in the best interest of our nation. We love our religion. We also love our nation. We know what works. Politics may not have delivered yet for the Somali people but that does not mean politics is the wrong application. It will depend on who is utilizing it. To govern well will no doubt require a deeper understanding of politics. It is important those who rule to be told when they are wrong. Good governing will need special skills. But any organization which rules through the use of religion will not bring Somalia any closer to the establishment of a better government. Let us remind ourselves that it is humans who run things (including governments) — not holy books. Even the holy words are subject to interpretation. It is not a secret that people interpret things differently. There is no doubt the Islamic Courts, during their short spell in the capital, have done a number of good things. They have also committed errors. Every nation has its judiciary (courts). But judiciary is best when it confines itself to legal matters. The question is: how to consolidate the good aspects of the Islamic Courts in the new Somali State? Sheikh Sharif has shown maturity as well as quick grasp of things. While rigidity and obduracy are the signs of bad leadership, open-mindedness and quick learning are the qualities of good leadership. In 2009, a unity government headed by Sheikh Sharif Sheikh Ahmed is the way forward. To form and run an effective government, the nation will also require a capable Prime Minister. In my next piece let us explore how such a unity government can give Somalia the best of both worlds. ------------------------------------------------- dhulQarnayn Republic Of California

Topic: After Ethiopians leave? What do you think ba dhacaya? waxaan dhicidoona tha same shit dhicijiray before the ethios got there....same ol' crap

Not to Sleep by Robert Graves Not to sleep all the night long, for pure joy, Counting no sheep and careless of chimes Welcoming the dawn confabulation Of birds, her children, who discuss idly Fanciful details of the promised coming — Will she be wearing red, or russet, or blue, Or pure white?—whatever she wears, glorious: Not to sleep all the night long, for pure joy, This is given to a few but at last to me, So that when I laugh and stretch and leap from bed I shall glide downstairs, my feet brushing the carpet In courtesy to civilized progression, Though, did I wish, I could soar through the open window And perch on a branch above, acceptable ally Of the birds still alert, grumbling gently together.

The only way to"reduce the appeal of the highest office in the land(the presidency)to just another job" is to decentralize power to the provincial level. "Cantonize" the country, just like Switzerland! Each province in Somalia becomes its own state. The so-called "Somaliland" will not be ruled outta Hargeisa, but rather the constituent provinces of Somaliland--Awdal, Waqooyi Galbeed and Togdheer will each go there seperate ways and have their own independent state governments. SSC will persue their own destiny, respectively, without any outside influence from either Puntland nor Somaliland. Puntland itself must seize to exist and allow the formation of self-administered automounous provincial governments by Bari, Nugaal and Mudug. The rest of the country will follow along this path of decentralization. This will ensure that the power of the central government gets so watered down that it wont be worth the hustle for dumb warlords and false jihadists to fight over. dhulQarnayn, Republic Of California p.s Al-Buracaawi Am working on a constitution just like you did. Mine is modelled after the Swiss constitution. I think you will find it very agreeable. Will post it once am done.

Wetdreams of a Cyber-Mujaahid Ceyrow jr.- "I would use my crack force of 10,000 mujahid warriors and invade Puntland, which currently has a weakened leadership. We would rally at Dusamareeb (where they least expect us),do some tailgating, and then deploy a caravan of Technikos and take the short ride, enmasse, to Puntland's capital, Garoowe. The CP would be established in the presidential palace, where "dark chubby" himself now resides. Puntland has several societal key nodes that can be neutralized in a matter of just a few days. No, I would not opt for a protracted jihad in Puntland at all, that would be senseless. The Puntlanders are a friendly lot and it's relatively small size, and the fact that it is centrally located in the heart of Somalia and is in close proximity to Galgaduud(command central), not to mention having some of Somalia's most beautiful womenoutside Xamar Cadey, makes it an ideal spot for hanging out and acting tyrannical, while practicing our jihad skills without the nuisance of being bothered by TFG forces." dhulQarnayn, Republic Of California

No takers...I see!

Night by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Into the darkness and the hush of the night Slowly the landscape sinks, and fades away, And with it fade the phantoms of the day, The ghosts of men and things, that haunt the light. The crowd, the clamor, the pursuit, the flight, The unprofitable splendor and display, The agitations, and the cares that prey Upon our hearts, all vanish out of sight. The better life begins; the world no more Molests us; all its records we erase From the dull common-place book of our lives, That like a palimpsest is written o'er With trivial incidents of time and place, And lo! the ideal, hidden beneath, revives.

A Primer of the Daily Round by Howard Nemerov A peels an apple, while B kneels to God, C telephones to D, who has a hand On E's knee, F coughs, G turns up the sod For H's grave, I do not understand But J is bringing one clay pigeon down While K brings down a nightstick on L's head, And M takes mustard, N drives into town, O goes to bed with P, and Q drops dead, R lies to S, but happens to be heard By T, who tells U not to fire V For having to give W the word That X is now deceiving Y with Z, Who happens just now to remember A Peeling an apple somewhere far away.

Originally posted by NGONGE: quote:Originally posted by dhulQarnayn: ^^ war ninkaan magaalbaa? Who are you asking? Anyway. Your silly post above reminded me of the story of the Somali that returned to his hometown after years of living and studying abroad. One day, as he was strolling in the village, he met one of his childhood friends (named Abdi). Abdi: is that you Cali? Cali: yes it is me. Abdi: I have not seen you for years, my friend. Where have you been all this time? Cali: I've been away studying. Abdi: Studying? What did you study? Cali: Philosophy and Logic Abdi: Logic? What is that? Cali: I spent years studying the subject and you expect me to explain it to you in seconds? Fine. I'm going to try. Do you own a dog? Abdi: Yes. Cali: that means you also have a front yard where you house this dog. Abdi: Yes. Cali: and if you have a front yard, you must be living in a villa. Abdi (excitedly): Yes. Yes. Cali: a young man like you can't own a villa, so you must be living with your parents. Abdi: yes. Cali: and if your parents can still afford to keep you at home at your age then they must be rich. Abdi: they are. Cali smiles and says: you see? By finding out that you own a dog I managed to rationally work out that you come from a good, rich family. This, my friend, is logic. Abdi was impressed and went away shaking his head at the beauty of logic. Later, as he was walking out from his evening prayers, he spotted an old nodding acquaintance of his. Abdi always wanted to strike up a conversation with the guy but never had a suitable opening. Now he did. Abdi: hi Acquaintance: hi Abdi: I never spoke to you before but I can tell that you're a nice man who comes from a good family. Acquaintance: How can you tell? Abdi: I used logic. Acquaintance: What's that? Abdi: You'll find out in just a minute. But first, tell me, do you own a dog? Acquaintance: Acoodo bi Allah. Dogs are dirty animals, my friend. No. I don't own one. Abdi (disappointedly): I was WRONG about you. "A dog who attends a flea circus most likely will steal the whole show." Waryaa idaa!

NGONGE, Tsk tsk, such a pessimist(note, I did not say realist). Guns will be banned and the police service will only be supplied with feather dusters. All, Have any of you read(read mind you not seen) Starship Troopers? A Federation with common laws is in effect. Citizens earn political rights through service(military service), while non-citizens play a lesser societal role(having little power to effect real change in the world). Now before everyone loses their minds, I am not completely advocating this stance (although the concepts in the book do pose interesting philosophical questions). I do think a Somali national government is possible. However, it would have to be federation-like. A collective hegemony, with common laws (SIMPLE common laws), but local administration of said laws within the framework of a "federal mindset". Punishment for beaking the laws MUST be swift and severe- (I'm not advocating the death penalty (or maiming) for everything, but punishment of a physical nature works quite well I can assure you). That being said, there is no way (currently) that Somalis will agree on common laws. Those laws must be EXTREMELY simple (simplicity IMO reduces loopholes by allowing for a more general interpretation of the law). Also, as Saudi Arabia shows, having Shariah law does not necessarily equate to more justice. Aristotle said..."Legislation may have a specious appearance of benevolence; men readily listen to it, and are easily induced to believe that in some wonderful manner everybody will become everybody's friend, especially when some one is heard denouncing the evils now existing in states, suits about contracts, convictions for perjury, flatteries of rich men and the like, which are said to arise out of the possession of private property. These evils, however, are due to a very different cause -- the wickedness of human nature." Somalis, like most people are inherently evil with the potential to do some good. Thus, concentrating civil, political, and military power in fewer people will INCREASE the degree of injustice in our country. A loose federation is the only thing (IMO) that stands any chance of keeping Somalis united. Setting up the laws that will govern Somalia will be a sticky issue. Laws supposedly reflect the morals of a culture. Well for Somalis all across the country and abroad, it begs to ask "whos morals?" should we adhere to. The wonderfully diverse points of view we have; bring with them vastly different moral structures (taking me back to extremely simple law statements). Last point. Law enforcement. Each piece of the federation must have a policing/military body for enforcement and defense. The military body must be integrated with the national defense structure to prevent rogue provinces from ceding from the national arena(I know this is going to boil some people over but oh well). Is it possible? Conceptually yes, practically.....well...... Would it work? Yes (with considerable pain on conception and delivery) As our civil conflict advances and continues to be converted into something deleterious and malignant, I believe that our nation will fracture even further. However; like Adam-Zayla said,"we have nothing to lose, everything to gain". Thank you for your time and attention. -dhulQarnayn

^^ war ninkaan magaalbaa?

yep, Ceyrow jr. is a political bigot. Your screed is just a string of anti-TFG conspiracy theories. Your unwitty gripes about the support the leadership of the Somali State of Puntland may provide the TFG in no way gives you the right to insinuate that all the inhabitants of Puntland are to blame for Al-Shababs misfortunes. Saaxiib, just because the head of the TFG hails from Puntland does not mean that all Puntlanders are somehow in cahoots with his administration. But I understand how you can make this mistake - you don't know what you're talking about because you've become blinded by spurious zealotry. I'm not going to do a point by point rebutal of your lies - it's impossible to prove a negative. I will say this, your political biases and hatreds are very damaging to us all as a people and I fear that people of your calibur equipped with the power of the internet will propagate further hate and violence amongst Somalis. The SOL posters that hate the TFG, hate it zealously and they believe that most people do too. As well, they truly believe, contrary to all the evidence, that somehow the only way to defeat the TFG is through the use of bomb blasts, gunfire and assassinations- knowing full well that such tactics will not lead to victory. So in a nutshell, we need to find solutions to our civil strife by not suggesting to further expand the arena of conflict, i.e dragging Puntland into the mess in south Somalia, but rather work towards bringing Somalis together to fix our problems through non-violence.