Sharing my experience of back home

[OdaySomali]

I will give you the sweet, bitter and sour.

 

The glamorousesque perspective...

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And the more realistic nitty gritty perspective...

 

[OdaySomali]

disclaimer: These are not my videos but just a representation of the places on the ground.,

 

 

[OdaySomali]

I was awoken by adhaan early in the morning and already Hargeisa was in full swing. As awoke on the rock-hard double bed I quickly remembered where I was. I was apprehensive and for some reason nervous. I could hear the loud noises of the city outside; donkeys braying as they carry water between the areas of the city, driver honking the horns of their cars as they navigate the narrow but packed "roads", traders and their customers haggling, children playing and shouting and mosques giving sermons through their unregulated speakers. This city is one that is buzzing and lively with people and activities. I pulled myself out of bed and started to make my way to the on-suite "bathroom". I showered under the cold single spray of water coming forth from the attempt at a shower, installed in a tiny bathroom tiled from top to bottom though luckily I did not slip. The drain evidently did not work properly so the water from the shower would remain as still water on the tiled ground of the "bathroom", I hoped it would dry naturally. Quality issues would be a major issue throught my stay.

 

We ordered breakfast and it was brought to our room. Because all food - LITEREALLY ALL FOOD - is cooked on dhuxul (or coal), it never cooks "properly" or at completely the same heat and you can taste this. Begrudgingly I ate the food.

 

We called the car that we had pre-arranged and ventured into the city. The hotel was buzzing with returnees from the diaspora and I hear various european languages as well as Arabic being spoken right, left and centre. We made our way to the downtown. Looking out the window the city was definitely better seen during the day. It looked less gloomy and more lively. However it was still clear that there is extreme poverty and underf devlopment. As we trudged along the road we drove no faster than 20mph at most as the road conditions simply would not allow that. I noticed that most of the city consisted of houses built of brick and the roof covered with painted "jingad" (metal sheets". "Government" buildings were no better and there was an obsession among those offices with painting the perimeter fences and pillars in the white, green and red colours. Perhaps it was lost on them that it looked incredibly amateurish and as though the painting was done by children. All along the main "road" there are little buulal where presumably petty-traders and qat stalls are selling things and/or living.

 

One could complete a tour of the city within 2 hours or so as there is really not much to see or many places to go. We went for lunch to one of the restaurants. We turned into the side-roads and we were rocked inside the car as we navigated dirt-roads where flash-floods had cut deep groves. We turned into the gate of what was presumably the restaurant and parked on the gravel driveway. We sat in a room and ordered our food. As we were eating, with me have tasted and disliked the taste and smell of camel, a woman came to the window of the room and begged us. "Walaalayaal. Walaalayaal wax I siiya. Walaalayaal waxaan ahay hooyo intaas oo caruur oo agoon ah haysata. etc.... As uncomfortable as we felt we gave her what we could and murmling duco after duco she left. She would be the only Somali stranger to beg us during our stay. It was clear there were two socio-economic groups here side by side. Those locals without links to the diaspora are really struggling with the basics of life.

 

We drove into the city centre (Main shopping Street) where dahabshiil, travel agents etc were located. As we got out of the car immediately we drew attention. Different in appearance and clothing to the locals it was clear we did not fit in. For starters darxumo nagamay muuqan. As I walked along the main road and shielded my eyes from the dust and sand that was coming up from the ground a small boy, perhaps 5 years of age came up to me. Walaal, walaal he said, as he put his hand out. It was not immediately clear to me what exactly he wanted. The local with us said he wants money, give him some money. I gave him a couple of 1000' SL shillings and walked on again. Another child approached me, this time a young girl about the same age, clearly underfed and underclothed, she put out her hand. Again I gave her some money. I thought, "if that money will help her in some way, then why not". I walked a little further and turned the corner. A third child, another young boy, approached me from around the corner and put out his hand. "walaalo, walaalo", he said. I thought, o.k, where are these kids coming from because I did not see them a minute ago. I turned the corner and looked. I saw standing a woman surrounded by the children who had approached me. She was taking the money I had given the children and directing some more towards me. Without saying anything I walked off, and having seen that I saw what was going on, the third boy said nothing and walked off.

 

Later we discussed the beggin with the local who was with us. We learnt that the people we gave money to were indeed not even Somali. "The [vast majority of] beggers in Hargeisa are Oromos we were told. They know no Somali other than walaal, walaalo. Kids are used and sent to you to beg." Apparently begging is a good earner for them and they fully exploit the generosity of the Somali people and especially diaspora returnees. Most somalis, unless they are in extremely dire straits, are too proud to beg you directly. And even when they do, they will shaxaad you in quite and arrogant manner.

[OdaySomali]

The telcomms sector is booming and is a success story. I was impressed. The reception is perfect, calls are cheap and call-quality is flawless. Cheap mobile phone imported from China are readily available and most teens, even as young as 10, young women and men of all ages carry a mobile phone - from the teacher, to the trader to the geeljire in the baadiye. The only problem is interconnectivity between the various companies. The companies do not connect to eachother so people are forced to have 2 or three different sim cards so that they are able to call their contacts who happen to be on a different network. Even with that problem the market has provided a solution. the solution being cheap chinese-made mobile phones with 2 or even 3 sim-card capacity, thus overcoming the problem of interconnectivity. The youth have the latest pro-Somaliland mp3 songs on their mobile phones. Landlines are also pervasive. Of-course the poorer people cannot afford this but generally those who live in a brick house will have a landline.

 

One market failure is that calls are too cheap. With calls being dirt-cheap, and in some cases free, and people having so much free time as they do not work or study prank-calling has become a huge problem. Folks told stories about receiving calls form and dialling random numbers just for the sake of it. If the person who answers is of the same gender he/she will receive an earful of the most foul and offensive of words. If the person who answers is of the different gender then sheeko and shukaansi starts. One big problem this has led to is th e proliferation of a deviant youth-led and oriented underground where alcohol consumption and Zina are the main activities. Because of this, teenage pregnancies, illigitimate children and rapes are not unheard of. However there is another side to the youth. I saw a youth that were dynamic, informed and hungry for development and education. In addition to their school and quran lessons that they attended, most also attended extra classes run in the evenings.

[OdaySomali]

It was a pleasure to be only in the midst of my Somali people. Walk down somali streets. sitting on a porch watching somali children playing peacefully in the street. Praying in one of the many, many mosques. being awoken every morning by the sounds of call to prayer. Watching people every evening congegrate in cafes and open space for mass-maxaadiros. One of the best things was that every morening, long before the subax prayer, you would see countless of people going to work... whether their stalls, stores, offices - women forming a large part of them - people working for their irsaaqad and using the Somali entrepreneurial spirit. I even had a favourite entrepreneur. She was this old lady who converted dollars at a local suuq with her very modest stall - I never went anywhere else to have my money changed. I was also immensly proud of the many wonderful children that I saw - full of ambition, determination and work-ethic. In terms of business, do somali shop-owners know custoemr service and a half! you walk into a store and they will bring you a seat, a cold drink - espeically they target qurbo-joog ladies - adement to have you purchase from them. Lastly I was expecting the infamous "dhaqancelis" shouts... these I never experienced, everyone was very welcoming, very friendly - apart from oromos who would heckle you for money at every opportunity - no one would say a word to you as you go about your business.

[OdaySomali]

Apophis;893526 wrote:

I have enjoyed your report; it's well written and enjoyable. Cheers.

War iga daa meeshaa. It broke my heart and damaged my spirit. Ku dar intaas inay dadkeenu badankoodu cawaan yihiin, Previousy ive said:

 

When you feel so strongly about something that you literally think about it day and night. When it is the first thing on your mind when you wake up in the mornings. When it pops into your mind even when you are engaged in other things. When you make plans in your mind about it even though you are far removed from it. When it is in relation to all other things, at the very centre of your cognitive being. It can be hard to ignore it. The never fading obsession that is lodged in my heart...

 

I have always been interested in politics and business more than your average person. However, over the past couple of years this has taken a certain Somali spin to it. Faced even in the western media with an avalanche of coverage and information about Somalia [and its politics] I have found myself drawn to it. More than anything, I have become concerned with (no, obsessed with) the current [somali] state of affairs.

 

Having grown up with virtually with no contact to Somalis and even - as you might well find yourself in certain places of continental Europe - often having been the only ethnic minority [in the establishments I frequented], I was at one point Somali only in name and ethnicity. Somalis almost lost me but being the lucky bunch that you are ... you can take a Somali out of the land but you can’t take the Somalinimo out of a Somali.

 

Gradually I have gone through a process of discovering and learning about Somalis and Somalia and have progressed from the point of being ignorant and indifferent to the Somali state of affairs, to being relatively well versed in the frequent discourse.

 

As part of this process I passed through a brief stage of disillusionment; immediately after I visited and travelled through the motherland on a personal [mini] pseudo fact-finding mission. In this stage, I gave up on our land, our people and our future - a sad stage where I settled for being an ethnic minority immigrant in a faraway land. I found it difficult to accustom to and accept the fact that this impoverished and backward land was where I belonged, no matter how bad the situation currently might be.

 

I found it difficult to let go of the glimmering lights, smooth roads and conveniences and accept the fact that those things never were and never would be mine. I was, to say the least, overwhelmed and daunted by the amount of work that my homeland apparently needed to bring it up to standard; at the time it seemed like and impossible and improbable target.

 

I was also immeasurably angry with the divisions and divisiveness, with the disagreeability embedded into the very fabic of the political elite.

 

I quietly even promised myself never to return, such was the disillusionment. Only good then, that that stage [of disillusionment] did not last long.

 

There was somthing inside of me, something that fought the disillusionment, something that is strong, tenacious, flexible and yet unyielding; it was my Somalinimo... I realised you can take a Somali out of the land but you can’t take the Somalinimo out of a Somali.

 

I boarded the plane and embarked on the journey back to the developed places to which I had become so accustomed, though never felt as home. My disillusionment with the homeland was still very strong at that point and these negative feelings were magnified by the very hot and uncomfortable journey through Djibouti. It was utter torture, sitting in that simmering plane on the runway of Djibouti aiirport - with no airconditioning, no water, not comfort it felt like being inside an oven. When I thought it could not get warmer, it did just that and sweat, that was by now running down my everywhere, was causing my clothes to stick to my. As the passengers desperately attempted to cool themselves, in feverish movements with the safety instructions or whatever they could get their hands on, the children who were even more so unable to bear the heat, once again started crying as though they had just seen the elusive yet infamous xuux.

 

You may be thinking, "sod all this negativity and pessimism!", but there was most certainly a silver lining, as thin as it may be.

 

Having experiences just how underdeveloped and impoverished the homeland is, having seen the extent of lack of opportunities, education, health, jobs - all hings that we take for granted - I had indeed learnt a big lesson even though I might not have known it then. I was simply shocked at the number of mentally ill people - in every street there were at least several houses with mentally ill people either chained in front of them or screaming from the inside them. It seemed everywhere I looked there was a huge challenge waiting to be resolved.

 

I also found that the quality of everything was just terrible... from the haphazardly constructed 'houses', to the poor quality imported foods, to the uber-low-quality chinese goods flooding the country, to the dreadful 'roads', shabby business premises, the laughable attempts of plumbing and the list goes on... It was clear that someone, somewhere, had tried to improve things, to innovate, to implement new developments but had done so very, very badly - even though that may have been to the best of their ability.

 

The most shocking/disturbing/unbelievable/disgusting thing to me, was the following. The youth, faced with unemployment/lack of opportunities/jobs/propects and things to do in general, turned to other things. One of these things being, regretably and unfortunately, khamri. It seems that this, as you are aware perhaps of qat, is brought in illegally from Ethiopia and so is Khamri. Yaabka Yaabkiis I never imagined that come nightfall drunk somalis would readily be roaming the streets and that the community was aware of drunken youths - from Hargeisa to Garowe and beyond. The lack of proper leadership means that little to nothing is done about this, and few in number though they may be, I fear that it is only a growing trend.

 

What was lacking, I thought, was leadership - across every field/sector and in every respect. Those diasporans who had returned, instead of trying to make a difference, were often content with the status quo, they left the west and 'halkan' ayay soo candhaadhsadeen, wax ay soo kordhiyaan iska daa.

 

There were also success and good stories to be told.

 

It was a pleasure to be only in the midst of my Somali people. Walk down somali streets. sitting on a porch watching somali children playing peacefully in the street. Praying in one of the many, many mosques. being awoken every morning by the sounds of call to prayer. Watching people every evening congegrate in cafes and open space for mass-maxaadiros. One of the best things was that every morening, long before the subax prayer, you would see countless of people going to work... whether their stalls, stores, offices - women forming a large part of them - people working for their irsaaqad and using the Somali entrepreneurial spirit. I even had a favourite entrepreneur. She was this old lady who converted dollars at a local suuq with her very modest stall - I never went anywhere else to have my money changed. I was also immensly proud of the many wonderful children that I saw - full of ambition, determination and work-ethic. In terms of business, do somali shop-owners know custoemr service and a half! you walk into a store and they will bring you a seat, a cold drink - espeically they target qurbo-joog ladies - adement to have you purchase from them. Lastly I was expecting the infamous "dhaqancelis" shouts... these I never experienced, everyone was very welcoming, very friendly - apart from oromos who would heckle you for money at every opportunity - no one would say a word to you as you go about your business.

 

The silver lining and moral of the story. You will only ever have one home and that is dhulka hooyo. It is upto us to be the catalyst that out land and people require. We need to contribute tangible improvements and change. We need to remember that as humble as we may think of oursleves, we are in effect the 'elite', the most affluent, most educated, most travelled etc. We are capable of improving the situation on the ground because all the place needs is a reversal of the brain-drain.

[Saxansaxo]

Interesting read, It makes one feel homesick. Did you go to miyiga? If so how was your experience there?

[OdaySomali]

Saxansaxo;893546 wrote:

Interesting read, It makes one feel homesick.

Did you go to miyiga? If so how was your experience there?

I drove out into the country-side but did not venture into the mii.

[OdaySomali]

Apophis;893551 wrote:

In what way??

The sad state and hopelessness of the place. The mindset of the people. Where I said:

 

I was, to say the least, overwhelmed and daunted by the amount of work that my homeland apparently needed to bring it up to standard; at the time it seemed like and impossible and improbable target.

 

I was also immeasurably angry with the divisions and divisiveness, with the disagreeability embedded into the very fabic of the political elite.

[Saxansaxo]

Oday somali: Okay it would have been nice to read about it.

[Taleexi]

Eloquently put and descriptive. Thanks for sharing.

[OdaySomali]

Where did I get up to?... More to come.

 

The countryside & landscape

 

The isbaarooyin aka checkpoints

 

The villages

 

Berbera - kulayl iyo horumar

 

Sheikh - doog iyo naxariis

 

Tooray city - burco boodhweyn

 

Garowe - the quiet nice place.

 

Businesses - general overview.

 

The youth & the state of the society.

 

None existing governance & a place completely devoid of good leadership

[Malika]

^I am interested on your observation of the 'youth' and their role in the society..baal taasi igu hore..thanks in advance.

[OdaySomali]

Malika;921179 wrote:

^I am interested on your observation of the 'youth' and their role in the society..baal taasi igu hore..thanks in advance.

Of course dear Malika.

[Alpha Blondy]

this odaysomali is a complete and utter liar. his epic travels are NOT accompanied by pictures. its a lie.