Qundur Is ilaali. Asalaamu calaykumtaadaa dhinacnna ha u dhaafin. Lambarkaa ku nuuxnuuxso si aad u badbaado! Ngonge nin laydhaana iska ilaali. Yuuna ku duufsan. Otherwise, it should be a fun.

Xassen-Waal Wildlife Park Midway between between Jigjiga and Dhagaxbuur, just off the main road, lies the vast expanse of Xassen Waal’s Park lies. Xassen was a shop owner in the town of Dhagaxbuur. But after repeatedly borrowing money from the commercial Bank, and failing to repay, his assets were confiscated and the shop sold on auction. Three years later, he left the town and decided to try the life of the wilderness. He set up a small hut and enclosed a vast land that nobody owned. He is from the area and his clan’s didn’t object for the enclosure as long as he doesn’t use it to dig Berked or to farm. His ideals were seen as ridiculous when he said he will bring ‘white’ tourists and charge them for the sightseeing. He quickly assembled a mesmerising stock of snakes, garnuug, Bakayle, Haram-cad, Hyena, Fox, Birds and other reptiles and mammals. After few years, foreigners and some wealthy locals who pass along the road started to show interest. It started Bal na soo tus waxaad haysid; but soon the man started charging people. One day, a group of white men descended onto the area to satisfy their curiosity. They were not tourists, but rather were passing by and decided to have a look. Of course, they were ready to pay the peanut that is requested by Xassen-Waal. The problem was Xassen was a very volatile and poor guide. And he refused to hire professionals, insisting on ‘ma dacwa tan la yidhaa baan nin u shaqaaleysan’! The day this group arrived, perhaps was the funniest day. One of the White men would ask what that snake is called. Ideally, in Snake world parks, you would expect to be told, “This is black Mamba or a Cobra or that. Its speed is x-km/per hour and it stings with the back teeth. If you don’t get anti-venom treatment, it kills within so and so hours or days.” But Xassen Waal’s description is different. He only tells them the name and waits for questions to follow. When they do, his answers are sharp and sarcastic. When he told the visiting team, that a partcilcuar snake ‘Kaas Abris baa la yidhaa’, one visitor asked him ‘Does it sting?’, he replied ‘Maya, wuu ku dhunkan ku dheh’. Others asked about the age of one hyena and he would angry say ‘maana ka dhaliyey anigu’. People admired his industriousness, though.

Wedding and funerals is where the leaf is served! NG-adigii baa is fashilayee.

Is there any doubt he is not high when scribbling at SOL?

Cara- my dear, you underestimate the power of Mirqaan! People talk when they munch on that green stuff. I tell you.

From the legendary Manhadal Saloon! http://www.wardheernews.com/articles_08/July/Maan_Hadal/21_in_the_den_of_Djiboutis_big_man.html In the Den of Djibouti’s Big Man Maan Hadal Team July 21 , 2008 A pyramid is power. It is repression, force, and wealth. But it is just as much domination of the rabble; the narrowing of its minds; the weakening of its will; monotony; and waste. O my Pharaoh, it is your most reliable guardian. Your secret police. Your army. Your fleet. Your harem. The higher it is, the tinier your subjects will seem. And the smaller your subjects, the more you rise. The Pyramid by Ismail KadareThe A government functionary escorted me from the steps of the aircraft and instantly whisked me through the VIP Lounge where a waiting immigration officer stamped entry into my passport. My official escort drove me to a luxury Five Star hotel located at a beachfront, described by a voyager as “an oasis in a hell”. My official escort was a man in his late thirtieths with firm tentacles in the corridors of power; flashy and full of bonhomie. His car stereo played a popular song that excessively glorified the head of the state. The chorus line ends with a refrain “Noolow Ma Daale! Noolow Ma Daale!” (Long live the indefatigable! Long live the indefatigable!). The song strikes a chord. Unmistakably, the song was a literal carbon-copy from another era; from another leader who persistently demanded and overjoyed excessive praise and adulation. En route to the hotel, I was driven through what seemed to be a godforsaken squalid ghetto; a landscape dominated by largely dense corrugated shantytown; streets littered with piles of garbage and multitudes of plastic bags flowering the entire city, and dilapidated near-absent infrastructure. Poverty is uncomfortably conspicuous and it permeates all levels of this city-state. The people of this tiny city-state had enough of hard and foreboding times, first under the French colonial regime, and now under the leadership of the “Big Man”. A long bout of adversity has depleted both the spirit and initiatives needed to surmount this testing times. Another familiar scene of a country systematically pauperized by a select few who fleece the public with impunity. The hotel was teeming with a host of undercover agents hailing from East and West - and from the over-edgy neighbours - eavesdropping, prying, snooping and fishing for information, overtly and furtively. It seemed an ideal place for fishing; a perfect setting for John le Carre’s spy novel, “Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy”. Indeed a pristine venue for a rendezvous. Local and foreign agents, civil society activists, journalists, ardent Islamists, fortune-hunting diaspora returnees, influence-wielding tyrant warlords, disgraced politicians, career crooks, and “compassionate” pundits of the Aid Industry, business entrepreneurs and sharp-witted brokers were milling, milling, milling at the lobby. Despite its serene landscape and the spectacular view of the deep blue sea from the balcony of my room, there was nothing idyllic about the hotel. It was not my kind of comfort turf. I felt surrounded by the usual suspects. Next day at noon, I was invited to join a small group of well-to-do men for a chewing session. The room was spacious and well resourced and bore perfect resemblance to Maan Hadal. Miniature tables laden with assorted soft drinks where placed besides the sitting cushions. A giant portrait of the Big Man hung on the opposite wall from where I was seated. He peered out at me through the dark lenses of his spectacles. It reminded me of the famous phrase from George Orwell’s novel – Nineteen Eighty Four - the “Big Brother is watching You” or that forbidding notification “Big Brother, anxiously awaiting your arrival in room 101”. I felt uneasy. I was in no doubt that we were under the complete surveillance of the ever paranoid secret service of the omnipresent, flamboyant, enigmatic president of the city-state. We started the chatting ball rolling with the usual desultory banter that precedes the predominantly insightful discussions of the chewing salons. We skimmed through various topics including the recent peace talks between the Islamists and the TFG; the ongoing conference of the central committee of the Islamists in this very hotel, the border standoff between Eritrea and Djibouti; crisis in Zimbabwe and Darfur, and the calamity that beset the once Pearl of the Indian Ocean - the embattled Mogadishu. How concerned is your President of the indictment issued by the prosecutor of the International Criminal Court (ICC) to Sudanese president Omar al-Bashir? I put that to an official of the Ministry of Interior who was among the chewing gang. “We are not ****** like the Sudanese”, he retorted sharply. “Our President is doing everything to please the West. We are hosting the US forces monitoring terrorist activities in the Horn of Africa and provide facilitation for the United States extraordinary rendition of terrorists”. The official enlightened us on the role his country plays in gathering intelligence information on Somali Islamists. “We keep up-to-date profiles on who is who in Somalia and share the same to our Western friends” he asserted. I believed his assertion at face value. Security profiling and predation are some of the troubling measures I could expect from a country run by a former spymaster. “Look at the crisis in Zimbabwe” exclaimed another. “Mugabe has been incarcerated by the West for disenfranchising the opposition and for running solo. That is exactly what our President did three years ago. He has not incurred the wrath of the West in doing so. This clearly shows the level of acceptance he enjoys with the West” With the exception of few government officials, the chewing crowd was resigned to the fact that the Big Man and many other African tyrants may never be indicted by the prosecutor of the ICC for crimes committed against their wretched black population but for failing to comply with the interest of the West. The city-state has the reputation of being the arena for Machiavellian political brokerages, endless abortive peace overtures and ruthless profiteering from the political tragedy and cataclysms that bedeviled its beleaguered neighbour, Somalia. In the past two months, the Big Man had hosted and rolled the red carpet for the presidents of the TFG, Puntland, Somaliland and leaders of the Islamist resistance in Southern Somalia. He congratulated Abdillahi Yusuf for overseeing one of the worst humanitarian crises that continue to afflict the lives of tens of thousands of civilians. He applauded Adde Muse for turning Puntland into a lawless den for human traffickers, sea pirates, and kidnappers. He patted on the back of Dahir Rayaale for outsmarting and “castrating” the exasperated and increasingly weary opposition parties and for lengthening his lease of contract for the palace and for seizing the long coveted Las Anod. In the same vein, he cheered the soft-spoken mysterious Sheikh Sharif for executing bloody guerrilla warfare in the very heart of the densely inhabited Mogadishu. This is none other than a classic case of disingenuous camaraderie and shedding crocodile tears. The collective disingenuous mood and the deleterious “mirqan” in the room was accentuated by a soothing voice of none other than Mohamed Moge with his now classical song of “wacad,” at times prompting all of us to sing together “ Walaalkay nimaan u haystay muxuu waddo ii fadhiistay, ……” Like many of the beleaguered inhabitants of the failed states in Africa, Djiboutians have witnessed some of Orwell’s worst nightmares of a totalitarian regime. The lyrics of the Noolow Ma Daale resonate with Big Brother’s “Never again will you be capable of love, or friendship, or joy of living, or laughter, or curiosity, or courage, or integrity. You will be hollow. We shall squeeze you empty, and then we shall fill you with ourselves”.

Sidaad u jibbaysantahay! of course! Waryaa nagadaa jikaarkoo soo dhawoow!

War hedde ma calaacaliyee warbixin baan ku siinayey! Waad ogtahay inaana nina u joojin!

JB iyo Wacdarihiisi. Soo dhawoow saaxiib. You been missed. Kolay aniga budka igu dhacayey kadaaya maad tidhaahdeen laakiin wax uunbaad tari laheyd. Digadaa la iga sii dhigay intaad maqneyd. Show nin waalan oo NGONGE la yidhaa baan afka la galay.

AfroGirl Inaga isku wacnaynee, maxaad iiga wareegtay? dhiiririn dhiiririin!dhiiriin! [Raaligelin adag!] Odagyga Singub ah maa la iska daayoo, wax buu ku qaadqaaday laakiin it is that he is celebrity that haunts him. Many of us have done worse! Adeerkay hala daayoo, for the sake of his contribution to the somali art!

Originally posted by xiinfaniin: Waryee xaaska cusubi walaalo ma leedahay? Hadday leedahay ma ka yar-yaryihiin? Hadday ka yar-yaryihiin isku meel ma joogtaan? Haddaad ku jawaabto yes for all the above qs, please meesha isaga guur saaxiib. Old habits die hard, and I am not at all sure if you learnt how to manage your courage… Haa, Xinn. Tu ka yar oo 16 ah ayaa xaafada joogta oo iskuul dhigata. Laakin, waxaad ka hadlayso ma dhici karaan. The new wife has the same name U- with the deceased girl. Purely coincedental! The other thing is despite that mistake, I have alway remained loyal to my marriage! Dadka yar dus dusa ma aheyn runtii! Ngonge & Malika

Originally posted by Dabshid: and what was the cause of her death? AT&T, You have to repent, otherwse she will haunt you forever. BTW, are you enjoying by naratting this sick story over the net? Mate, you need an immediate medical attention. Maybe, It is part of the healing process! Kolka arin aan qofka ku dhicin laga hadlayo, it is always easy to say he/she should have done this or that. It is also easy to pass judgement. But, not everything that we face in life is explicable. I saw what you think about the man in the story, and in many ways the reaction is less condemning than I predicted.

Afrogirl, waaxay suusadan aad furanaysaa? Naa is-astur!

In the fake ones, you have the option of what story to tell. In the real one, you must not alter! I know it is a bad story.

Meaning you don't like the real ones?

Having read all your responses,Let me summarise how I think of the whole misfortune-which had changed my life (physically and emotionally). Indeed, I didn't tell all the twists and turns that followed the marriage. 1- There is no bravery or anything like it in it. With the benefit of a hindsight, I will infact term it a big shame and insensitivity. 2- There was little to choose between the two girls in terms of physcial attractiveness. In their behaviou, the big one -U- was joyful, straight-forward,and always in smiles. The young one -C- by contrast was silent (too silent), cold-blooded and decisive. 3- Xinn's assumption that there were nothing that happened between me and the big one is so kind of him; but not necessarily true. 4- There is no chance of the broken family coming back again. Things have happened. 5- I have since learned vital lessons, but the hard way. 6- The mother-in-law accepted me and actually liked me with time. I never saw her again after the divorce day! 7- The dead U, lived just enough to see my first child, and has been a regular visitor. 8- ALL along, after the initial euphoria run down, I was bothered by the knowledge the WIFE I am living with could actually do such a wrong thing on her sister-at that tender age. I knew she was capable of doing Anything! She, on her part might felt I can do anything to her. 9-In ten years, the subject of the triangular love affair hasn't came up once between us! NG- by the time all this happened, I wasn't A&T (with all the paranoia, loquacity, and pervertness that comes with them name). I was simple M, and was a very SHY boy. In front of people, I am still TOO shy, to the extent people feel I am s-tu-pid. Perhaps, that is why I overcompensate here incognito! Nassib-daro dhacday unbuu ahaa! Just to be cheeky here (not serious), after the divorce, Her younger sister came from as faras Hargeisa for reconciliation. Walaahi, she sounded very sound when she talked about how divorce is bad for the children, that I have enemies who will rejoice my family disintegration, now and then stressing the names of my children and saying 'where do you live them?'. At one point, It involuntarily crossed my mind to say 'Adiga laftigaagu bal ii waran?' Nin qoyan ileen biyo iskama dhawree!! She managed to get us back briefely for two more months. Haneefah Way ku canaan baan islahaaye, haddad saa igu daysay wan baa laguu qali. I have seen lots of my friends who are Nabsi-Proof, laakin in my case anaa qiray inuu jiro! Or maybe bad judgement and the consquent troubles ayey Somalidu Nabsi u taqaan!

^ Your caprice of my mental retardedness validated, soo ma aha? CL.

North That is my story. I have struggled whether I should share my secrets and what people will think of me, but that I shared my guilt and ordeal to others is already refreshing! EDIT NG- adiga iyo anigu we need psycho-therapy. Let us not pretend we are normal!

What if it is him?

Serenity, I really would like to do as much as possible not to be disliked by you. But I understand you must have good reasons to hate me. I respect you. CL I have been asking NGONGE to join me for the medication. I think we too need one. Thanks for the advice. To All This is not fiction, or just a mere story. It is the REAL life of someone in this forum. Make the distinction between my 'fables' and when I am talking real.

This is a real story a friend relayed to me. What do you think of him? How I married Believe it or not, everybody envied my love with U- and that we will get married to one another in 1996 was not a big news to tell somebody. Even her Eeddo, who I was introduced to by her –formally; commented joyfully ‘Maashaa-allah’ waan idin duceeyey’. Our relationship started in the Sport field. Me, a football player for the town, she- the star of the volleyball team. For a long time, I refused to go to their house-although she insisted at each encounter. One reason was, because I wasn’t sure if I could marry at that early age and didn’t have the financial muscle to do so even if I wished to do so, I didn’t know on what capacity will I be meeting her family? The six sisters and two brothers, and her parents. The case with her eedo-who lives in a different town, was different. Different because U insisted that she told everything about me and my intentions to her (who she could talk to at ease) and the old women approved of me. But the real day arrived, and I went to their house. Not to meet the parents and brothers but to meet the sisters. So, I met them all as M, and was enthusiastically welcomed. Four of the girls were younger than U. Nothing happened that day. But I started to come on and off to the house with the new legitimacy I acquired. Then something happened. I started to be attracted to the Youngest of all- C. I quickly realised why I am coming so frequently to the house is actually because of her. Why? Because I noticed that when I am told the bigger one (U) is just out and will be coming in twenty minutes, instead of being sad, I actually relished the opportunity and managed to ask few questions to the young and shy one. Not anything direct. Quickly, after several months, it was clear I was tilting to one end. And finally, I took the risk and asked the young one on what she thinks about a relationship. You may think it is so nasty, and I agree, but at the time, it just happened as a normal thing. After initially hesitating, saying what about my sister, to which my answer has always been ‘I think I like you’, she succumbed to the pressure but with the condition that it will be ‘a clandestine affair’ no one should learn about. To justify the inevitable shift, I started nagging U about her commitment to me and that I don’t think she will be a good wife to me. A key entry point was the ‘volley ball’ issue which I used to push my agenda. I said she should stop playing volleyball, should do this and that. All this to create a rift! She duly obliged to all. Then, I changed the story and come up with ‘I am not ready for marriage for the next five years. So if you can’t wait till then, I think we should talk about what to do’. It wasn’t lost to her what my intentions were, but I genuinely feel she cared about me and tried to save the relationship. In the meantime, the Sheeko with the young one was blooming and suspicious growing among the neighbours. Finally, it reached the ears of the elder. Then the showdown, ‘how dare?’ came up. I jumped from one line of argument to another- from I did it to annoy you because of so and so, to complete denial. It went well and she admonished me not to go that way again. It didn’t take long before I got mad with love for the young one, who didn’t love me as much as the big one did. I think she was not sure of what she was doing. And guess what, without notifying the big one-who bragged to all her friends about when our engagement will be, I decided to propose to the young one. Their family, by then have heard of what as going on, and have sent a clear message that such ‘a disgrace’ won’t be tolerated. So, I and the young one have to elope (secretly). Me, 22 - her 16 and do Nikax in a far town. By then, I have started working and was doing very good economically. Waa la is mehersaday, to influence the decision of the family. After two months of that Nikax, My odayaal (big ones) were at the doorsteps of their family in formal proposal. I knew of what was going on in the family and all the divisions that the issue brought. Her brothers refused, her father refused, but the mother was influential and said ‘if it is her Calaf, let it be. Why disappoint her?’ I later learned that it was actually U who influenced the decision of the family-convincing her mother that she shouldn’t object to the proposal for fear of disappointing her. And with youthful and nin-jecel-hayo Indho-adayg, I walked into the same Xaafad U took me surrounded by best-men and with the chants of ‘Aroos Khayr leh, Aamiin’. When I think about it now, I am lost for breath. Then, I was so sure that I was doing the right thing! Well, U died two years later (nothing to do with the initial heart-break), and I lived in good marriage with the young one for 10 years. I got three kids. But the last of the ten years turned bad, and the marriage ended. Somehow, I still believe that ‘betrayal’ factor has ruined my life as I always remained half-hearted in the marriage thinking the young one will punish me one day (as she comprehends with the enormity of my sins and hers too). So, at last it happened. With constant naggings and wareer, I nearly become insane. Interestingly, the nine years were full of peace and love. The torture went on for three months before I decided to end it with divorce. A painful one as I have never thought of raising kids without a mother. I dreamed of the perfect family, but with what I have done and many that I haven’t told, I am content that I deserved whatever I got! Perhaps, that experience is why I am so obsessed with ‘betrayal’ these days. Ironically, this time, it is me who hates it!

Originally posted by Red $ea: Tolka, Xoolo waan lenahay anaguba. Dal resource fiican lehna waan leenahay.Yaa kugu yidhi carabta ayaa naquudisa. Adeer adoo kaba la', oo xaalkaaga Ilaahay ogyahay sidee somaliland saboolnimo ugu sheegi kartaa. Somaliland for last 17 years wataa isku filan. Bilaa aqoonsi, bilaa carab, bilaa xoolo somali galbeed. Somali galbeed somaliland ayaa ka aduunyo badan. Si kastaba. Puntland somaliland ayaa ka aduunyo badan si kasta. Somali koonfured somaliland ayaa ka aduunyo badan. Marka laga reebo mooska iyo canbaha. Kaasina Western Africaba wuu kabaxaa. Hadii uu wax utarayo. Dadka maanta dhibtu haysato ee aan isku filnayn Ilaahay waa ogyahay, adna waad ogtayhay. Dadka maanta ubaahan in aduunku wax uqabto ee waxba qabsan karin waad ogtahay. Ethiopia ayaa idin haysta ku sheeg somaliland, laakin runtu waxay tahay waad ogtahay. Adaana iska indha tiray. Hadii aanad iska indh tirin runta, maybe both Jigjiga and Muqdisho wouldnt' be under Ethiopian military hardware. At the risk of turning the discussion Reerkanaga Vs Reerkiina, let me ask you how many rivers pass through Somaliland? What does it produce? It is abundunt in which minerals? And is it not Xoolo-dhoofin, transport services, and trade with Arabia that is the backbone ofthe existence in Hargeisa? Ma fadhi-carbeedyadda guryaha Hargeisa yaal, iyo Electronics' ga suuqa ka buuxa ayaad mooday Capital assets! Tan kale, In dadkayaga Xabshi haysato oo rafaadsanyihiin isweydiin maleh. But is that because of our weakness or historical misfortune. We could easily have ended up in the Somali Republic and might not have needed to fight for our identity! Taas la soco! Faanka se kugula yaabi maayo oo waa caadoo aan la maydhi karin! For that matter, what is the basis of Somalilanders quest for Independence. Is it not: 1. Ultra-tribalsim: rated 1st among Somali's 2. Wa-la-weyn sideey noo xukuntaa Xaqiraad and contempt 3. And justifiably waa nala dilay oo cadaadis ayaa nala saaaray. THIS one is the only valid point, but even it cannot lead to secession. Rwanda is an example. Xaaji Xunduf Loo@ riigu waa Somaliland; laakin kolkay Hargeisa cabto ayeey Borame cabi! See a pattern there, Xaaji Xayraaan!

The main point is that the idea of secession is driven by the elites of a single clan. That clan tries to advance its hegemony and aspirations with a fasle claim that the 'somaliland dream' is persued by all inhabitants of what was known as 'British Somaliland'. Now, we all know that people from Awdal, Significant parts of Sanag and Sool, not to mention the silent majority of the clan whose name is abused see themselves as being part of the proud people of Somalia. Haday kabain waydana oo la yidhaa qabiilbaa isku raacay inuu Soomali ka go', Fine, laakiin yaa dhulkiisa laqaadan oo la cabudhin karaa? Let the Hargeisa-Burco-Berbera traingle declare itself the 'LESOTHO' of the horn. We shall see if that will be a viable entity economically and politically. Somaligalbeed will not send anymore Adhi and Xoolo through Berbera nor will serve as the absorping market for the goods brought from Arabia. The Arab states will never recognise it. Kolkaa ma calanka 'Talyaanika' ee dirgadaha laga taagay yaa lacuni dooonaa?? Having said that I agree if that 'clan' doesn't wish to be with the rest of the Somali's, they should get their wish! In la cabudhiyo ma'aha. Iyaguna inay LAS CANOOD iyo Awdal iyo dad aan ogoleyn cabudhiyaan Ma aha! Fair enough. Haye, let me wait for the avalanche of the secessionsts kolka hadda!!

Xiin Ngonge anigu waxaan u haystaa uun macalin xabashi ah oo iskuulka noo dhigi jiray oo aannu u naqaanay 'Brofessor BAZA-BAZA'. Bazabaza in Amharic waa qof dhabadhabayti qabba oo wax is-dhex dhiga!