Guul iyo Gobanimo. Bay**** has been the center of the stooges for far too long. Clean their dirt, Al-Shabab, and reconcile with sheikh Shariif. But if Ethiopians were to come back or support a warlord, continue the fight; even against sheikh shariif.

But that is not good enough reason to run from battle fields and betrays your commanders. You convince them and go for the deal.

LG We endorsing him not because he is the best, but the only game in town. It shows maturity on our side, and a willingness to embrace what is good for Somalia. Our main issue was that Ethiopia should go out of Somalia, and we don't think Ethiopia has left becuase of Shariif. We know it is becuase of the Muqaawama. But that is one thing. Now the game is different. That we endorse him does not change our perception of him. He still is a bad leader, coward, and a pathetic flip-floper; but if he is not declared president, then Nuur cadde and others will be. We are afriad those will take orders from Ethiopia. There is nothing inconsistent or hypocratical here. Simple pramatism and politcis 101. must I repeat that when you are grappling with fast-chaging situations, you don't slam doors, you don't get glued to a chair. Instead, like a bad man who strays into the nuptial chambers of a maaried women, you sleep with this one unblinking eye firmly on the exit. ma isfahanay faanto?

Go read the sheekada so that you know how the week was. Dinner with Emiley akhri.

Haye KK. i will stick with this one. adigu sow nabad ma'aha? Hadaan lahaa aad baafisid.

Abdirisaq yare, 20 years old, was watching a big plasma TV screen he bought from money he and his two brothers got working part-time, and contributions from his father. They were engrossed with the story watching a good movie on Hallmark. Abtiyo Cumar, as they refer to him, just walked into the house to check on the health of his younger sister, Abdiriaq’s mother. Cumar was disgusted by the profligacy of the kids and their parents. Back home, money spent on this nonsense, he thought, would have dug two wells and four Berked’s. He shook his head. “aaway, where is Faadumo? Walaal, waxan maxay ciyaalku ku faleeen? Waxan weyn ee la’eg bahalkii lagu sheegi jiray Shaneemooyinka, maxay ku faleen?” After Cumar left, Abdirisaq was furious. “Mom, what exactly is the problem with your brother? It is not him who bought us this TV? It is not his kids who are watching it? Why does he bother about it?” His mother calmed him down. A month ago, it was the same story when Cumar joined the kids and their mother to the furniture shop. They wanted to buy a sofa, and seemed to have agreed upon one with white cover. The boys were happy with it, but Cumar vetoed it on account of “ inayna usgaga qarsaneyn”. That day also Abdirisaq was grumpling," Why can't Abtiyo Cumar leave us alone. Why can't he mind his own business. I mean this is intrusion...". It is getting bad in this family of mine, who live abroad. The daily tales of misunderstandings between the old and the young are refreshing. This is the latest I got, do you have any? Please update us.

Qoryaha noo soo celiya, rer-somalilandyoow, hadaad ilaahay taqaanin.

nasheeds won't take him far.

It is all about the money. That is the reality. But that doesn't mean a women will go for a guy just becuase of it. of course she have to like him. But between A and B (equally desired), but B having money, the other not having, B has a better chance of winning, cetris paribus. All other things being equal, as economist wpuld like to say. Val Luquntaada dheere.... Waa lagu salaamay.

loooooooooool@Nokia 3310. Ilaa hadda wali presidential is ma moodayo oo sharaabaad isaoo maydhan maalin dhowyd nin arkay baa ii sheegay. Armuu iska sii wadaa uun...

malika, lots of love and whatever aad dalbato ugaaso. We are in celebration mood here.

Girls are nowadays sophesticated. They don't fall for any of such nonesense. I mean civilized girls. Nowasdays, it is not so much about words, but materials and creating impressions. Few tricks I saw: 1- talking on telephone next to her: "hallow?ma cabdi-yara? sii lacagta soo ku ma odhan. 10,000 dollar u dhiib. Tukaan'kana xidh oo kaalay" 2- Creating the impression of being a big boss: u sheeg, wax warqad ah oon saxeexayaa majirto. haduu rabo, ha dacwoodo. 3- Sending a young man: "orod CD iiga soo saar gaadhiga (this works in Africa where cars are seen as something). 4- displaying fashionable mobile appartatus, and putting on nice music: "Xalay baan hurdada ku hawaawiroon...." and leaving it on the table, so that it rings for sometime 5- Ingirska markaan ku noqdo (if you came from there), ama talk about anything with the key words : visa, sponsor, iyo Canada ayaan u wareegay. At least in Addis Ababa, waa I will buy a leather jacket ama mobile. Haddi kale waa I will take you to Sodere (a resort area).

Buuxo is three years older than me. Waa 38. Simple additions.

He is not a Sheikh, but Shariif Sheikh Ahmed must be the new president. I declare that i support him for this post simply because he is the better choice on the table and in the hope that he will be a president who will be free of Ethiopian manipulation. Now that Ethiopian have left Somalia, it is time Alshabab integrates into a national army after finishing off tyhe Ahlu-blah blah cancer. (Sh) shariif sh. Ahmed is the proverbial whirlwind, always turning and turning. He is also a coward who escaped from a battle field. But all that is not relvenant right now. Let him do what he does best, dhanxiir style. He will be ejected in the first free elections. For now, we can live with him. I endorse him for president.

BOB did I tell you ninkii aad la hayd Cabdi ayaa la yidhaa oo Harare ayaan ku aqaanay inaan arkay? Kaalay kaasi waa nin waalan oo kharibane, sideed iigu soo qabatay. Waaba nin calooshi la ciyaar ah'e. Qo'qaani waan is aragnay wuuna i cassumay maalin Jo'burg. On December. Adiga Lwanda waa inaan kugu soo gaadha maalin dhow, ninyahow. Ama adigu Harare imo.

waryaa soodir CV'ga. Dhakhso.

Before I tell you anything, let me tell you a breaking news. THE CAMERONIAN BOSS IS SUMMARILY DISMISSED FOR GROSS INCOMPETENCE AND ABUSE OF AUTHORITY. Where is sister Malika? Naa ku dhufo ililililil!!! mashxarad. The deputy is officer-in-charge, and is already saying I am the "unoffcial' deputy. Meeshi waan qabsanay, as Somali's like to say. It was a victory of professionalim over randomness and inflated ego. Jacayl Emiley waan is aragnay, and she gave me a cold greeting this morning.

Oh! I forgot the big part. Wuxuu yidhi (he is a dark guy), when I looked myself with her there on the mirror, i thought my whatever looked like a badly roasted maize on a white sheet of cloth.

Malika Thanks for all. What people fail to understand is that faced with enourmous temptations and abundunt supply, I am yet to falter. I think people miss that side to my stories. Malika, Walaahi if you see the face of that Axmaar man; when he was making the narration, you wouldn't have forgotten for ages. He must have been desperate to tell it to someone as it was an encounter he had this week. We were lying on the grass waiting for the other members of the team to arrive, and he just started the story out of the blue. My elder son was beside me, when the man started (and becuase the son knows the language), I have to tell him to go and bring something for me from somewhere. The xabashi is impressed. Cake! " naftu haday iga baxdo that moment, I wouldn't mind, kulahaa".

Few would have resisted such temptations. Give credit where it is due. It is an obsession that refuses to go away. For some strange reason, i always believe those are the ultimate game-makers. Softy baa na daashatay saaxin. Although, yesterday, when I went to play football with Ethiopian community, ku ciyaala suuqa (he used to be Airbone during mengistu and he fled with him) ayaa qosol igu dilay. All of a sudden, he narrated an encounter he had with this white girl. What was funny was the way he was laughing. I asked him how are they? Markaasu intuu cirka eegay, in delirium yidhi " min liba lih (maxaan ku idhaa?)...ee..ee. " Ok, "Cake". Call it cake. Cake unbuu ku waashay. Whatever he have tasted must have left an impression with him.

under threat, I have regained my old self. I think Ngonge is right. Avoid Nuune, yarta. Awliyo xariif ah weeye. Horta suu ku ogaaday inay gabadh tahay?

Ngonge, I told her she needs to PM you or me. Orientation aan anaga aheyn haday qaadato, we are in for a trouble. I am already celebrating this new CL of mine.

PM me ifahan'oo. Horta ya ku siiyey 'orientation'ka'. Iska ilaali Nuune,Ducaysane iyo Faarax Brawn. Aniga iyo Ngonge iyo ayaa aalaa gabdhuhu na soo maraan.

Dinner with Emiley She called me on my number. As the executive secretary of the head of office, there is nothing unusual about this call. Me: “yes, Emiley. How is it?” Emiley: “Good. Where are you? The meeting will start in five minutes time. Did you print enough copies of the talking points for the head of office?” Me: “I didn’t print. But I am on my way to the office. Maybe five minutes. I will print 30 copies as soon as I arrive.” Emiley: “I think that will be late. Anyway…” Five minutes later, I arrived. I quickly went to my PC to order the prints, but she rushed from her desk and told me that she was only making me nervous, but otherwise she has already printed the copies. She gave it to me. I was happy and thanked her. “Thank you Emiley. I will make sure I reciprocate this favour soon.” I said Emiley: “ Ya. You must buy me a lunch.” Gi-gi-gi-gi ( a big African laughter followed) Me: “I will. Tomorrow lunch.” Next day, she came and told me lunch is not convenient to her and perhaps we make it dinner on the weekends. Saturday. Saturday arrived and we met at 6:00pm. Locating where to eat was a challenge, but finally we settled for Cais-Cais, a Portuguese restaurant. I was the one who arrived earlier, as I wanted to go early to my home. She arrived later at about 7:00pm. She said she had to drive from her church located at the other side of the city, where she attended a service. Order was placed for the food and the talk started. I was careful not to give any impression that I was interested in her, or in knowing some information about my boss, who is obviously an enemy to me. He is in a fight with his deputy, and I am an ally of the deputy. Or that is how he sees me. Emiley started the chat. “I was in the church and as the lead of the group; I couldn’t cut it and run. That is why I have to delay.” Me: “I understand. What is your church called?” Emiley: “ It is Seventh Day Adventist.” Me: “And how is that different from the Pentecostal, Orthodox, Catolic and others? I mean what is the biggest point of difference?” Emiley: “aaa.., It is the day of worship. And couple of things. But, yes, mainly the day. For us, it is Saturday, because God created the world on Sunday and rested on Sat urday (the seventh day).” Me: “So, this is more like the Sabbath of the Jews?” Emiley: “yes, in some ways. Yes, we concur on the day of worship, but we are Christians”. She was well dressed for the evening. Her dark skin contrasting with mine, fitting the big picture behind the wall, advertising Black & White Whiskey. If a moment of madness were to arrive and legs would have to interweave, I wonder if we would have looked like an unblemished Zebra, in unison. A nasty thought I quickly repelled. If it is not my man mind playing that old trick of misunderstanding women’s intentions, I sensed Emiley was keen to change the subject of discussion into something more worldly. I was pressing on the religion topic, deliberately, and I thought she wanted something more befitting of the occasion. She pointed to the toilet facing us from a distance, where a man just went into. I saw the big mark “Fart-Free Zone” written there, and was a bit embarrassed. But I didn’t tell her. I thought she must have seen it now. Apparently, she didn’t. “You see that man going into the toilet. There is a girl who went inside there minutes ago.” She giggled. “Maybe, the women section is inside as well. And they share the front door.” I said. “No, no, the women section is at our back. There.” She pointed towards it. Before I replied, a young girl came out from the toilet door with a broom at her hand and a bucket of water. She must have been the cleaner. Few minutes later and after several “so…, tell me” starts from her end, a large black woman suddenly came after greeting us, pulled a chair and shared our table. I waited for Emiley to talk to her in her local language. But she didn’t. Instead the big women looked at me and said “you know me. Yes?” I shook my head, not affirmatively. “Ok. My bill is only ten dollars. You pay it and I leave”. I didn’t respond. The manager, obviously noting the discomfort we are feeling came, and asked me if I can talk to him. “Sir, do you know her?” he asked “No.” He thanked me and ordered the security guy to remove her. She didn’t resist, although I later learned that she was telling the guy to leave so that she can follow. She didn’t want to be pushed or shoved. But just before I returned to my table, my wife called. And the women who intruded us answered the phone, saying “hang on, he is here. Coming”. Emiley asked, “Do you know her. She is a prostitute.” I felt embarrassed. By then Emiley has finished three quarter of the big Peri-peri chicken she ordered. I was struggling with the Tillapia fish and the potatoes. But she said that the chicken is too hot. “What? After finishing three quarters?” I almost yelled. I told her that she can try the Fish. I didn’t want to stay longer by ordering new round. She did just that and took a big chunk. She also ordered for the remaining chicken (which was by then mercilessly scoured) to be packed for take-away. My phone rang again, and a voice in Somali was saying “ war meeshaad joogtaa maxay aheyd. Caanihii ka yar ha soo iloobin. Come fast because we are having a problem with the DSTV.” I escorted Emiley to her car, thanked her and went to my car. Some of the dark creatures around, who kept on looking at me, as a foreigner taking advantage of their women must have sighed a sigh of relief when they saw we went into two different cars. But when I turned and stopped at the immediate red traffic light, the car next to me was hers. They must have thought we were heading to the butchery. Just before we left our table, Emiley was in no hurry. The white stuff over her eye-lids, velvet eyelids, and radiant red lipstick gave her a look of the proverbial woman who refused to go out of bed, in Firew Hailu’s "Esheruru". For whom, he sang thus: “She painted her tits and lips With stuff I do not know And said she will not go out of it Stretching wide on the bed”

It was my name dear. Ask Xinn. Abtigiis &Tusbax was my name. But if you want me to leave you alone, send me a PM. Particularly if you tick [female] in bank forms.