A wake up Call From Angry Spirits
Reading the desperate face of the layman on the street is my favorite book. Using his tongue as a pen inked with twisted tears deep, deep from his heart. As we share and have many things in common. That is why his agony and scream shivers my spine. His coughing and sneezing opens my eyes to see, and inspires my brain to visualize.
Then I nose around for scandal and apply all my senses to snoop. If I set aside all negativity, and redeem all sins. Still, I smell blood in the water. Flammable memories from the past, dormant in the heart for years came back flooding. A nerve racking vice and detachment of spirit and soul.
A new revelation of truth of discovering more mass – graves and massacre of the burning flesh on the barbecue of my deceased heroes like, Hassan Suleiman the rocket, Mr.Six the multi – man and the emblem of our freedom, Ahmed Dhagax the obstinate rock, Mohamed Moogeh the fighter and the singer with the golden – voice. Mohamoud Haibeh with the heart of the Lion, Mohamed Ali the Tiger of the jungle, Abdul Qadir Kosar the diplomat and the Warrior, Ibrahim Good Bur the terminator of the fortified castle, Dahir Dubad the defensive trench, Adan Suleiman the uninflammable War – Tank, Adan Shiine the enemy sweeper, Ahmed Gamco – Dheere the fearless, unyielding fighter.
You name it, I can’t cover the list on this small page. Dear reader, any new discovery of Mass – graves revives and refreshes a new smell from their burning flesh on the barbecue, grilling over the charcoal. The ugly scene with the painful memories sweeps again our hearts with forks and knives, and rewinds the old sad memories to flood back again. Heavy foggy clouds of heartbreak, overwhelming new sorrow and distress. Scratching again those old wounds. Implanting new seeds of hatred and malice in our memory and hearts.
The dormant sleeping volcano of the masses rage has been activated. Every piece of cigarette is another nail in our coffin. Now and then, we have been conquered by wild mosquitoes hungry for pain. Associated with false prophets which came to us in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly, they are ravening wolves. They are still burping; and we are tasting again that disgusting smell of raw onions that we have swallowed two decades ago. The night is long that it never finds the day. Every now and then, the angry spirits of our deceased heroes sending us a wakeup – call from their graves.
What a confusing legacy life can play! Mr.Silanyo, go ahead with your hidden agenda of double – standard policy. But remember that any stigma will serve to beat a dogma. Bear in mind that there is no light at the end of the tunnel; and hypocrisy is a tribute which vice pays to virtue. It is a sin sitting at Rome and revolting against the Pope. Every fool has a wide picture of your hidden intention. Please don’t sign your political death Contract. I hate to say I told you, but I did. History is now and England.
It came to my knowledge that some readers suspect me of anchoring hate and prejudice for certain communities of Somaliland. Owing to that, those readers regard me as being bias and partial in my writing. But honest to God, that perception is totally baseless and a groundless allegation. You can verify the authenticity of my statement by asking those who knows me in person. I am just expressing my personal views and sincere feelings. Harboring no ill intention that is tribally motivated. But every one has the right to disagree with my point of view. Believe me, I have no any ill intention targeting to offend a certain person or group, simply because of his tag or labeling.
Also some of my intimate friends blame for being ugly and seditious in my style of writing . But I couldn’t convince them that ugliness is the art of God and regarded as a beauty in the school of thought. The other face of credit is debt. That is why the School of President Silanyo can’t confess that the art’s fruit in life, is the destination of avoiding pain. Dispensing good advice and taking lessons of disgrace from a bad coach and teacher. One falsehood leads to another. His facts are stranger than fiction. Trading off food for thought. That is why fools names, and fools faces are always seen in public.
Fame one day, zero the next day. Asking is free, and so is refusing. As far as experience is the school of the mind; there is no need to apologize for my sore – throat. Because Adam ate the apple and that is why our throats are still aching. But there is no accounting for taste. Because who accepts nothing, has nothing to return. To say of any man that he is an angel is not an honor, but an insult. You are the sun, you are the moon is the old dead project that has led to the disaster. Period!
Dear reader, yesterday was a painful memory, today is dark and there is no a promising tomorrow. I am not sponsoring or promoting hate and malice among families and friends, or acting as a fear monger. But as Somalilanders, we proved ourselves as the most ungrateful nation on the earth planet. Giving a bad – turn to the sacrifice of our dead heroes. Guess what! When the kids of my favorite Hero Mr.Six, sitting in the chilly winter around the fire in their destitute shack; with trembling limbs, unshaved heads, and empty stomach. Asking their devastated helpless mother.
Mammy, why daddy is not around any more and what was the cause he died for? Her reply is nothing but to break tears running on her cheeks which she does not want the kids to see. On 18th October Instant, the same scenario took place on the anniversary of the SNM Mujaahidiin. That stomach aching memory happened to the widow of our Mujahid, Ibrahim Good Buur the terminator of the fortified castle of the corrupted regime. Ingratitude is Somalilanders nature.
Our first lady, Amina Waris, amazing indeed how money and power blinds and corrupts people. You and your lovely Mr. President, have forgotten that yesterday you were one of us. What a confusing legacy life can play. How do you expect tomorrow, me to put a bunch of flowers on the tomb of the grave of our President? That is a question crying for an answer?
Yusef Khairy
yusefdeyr@hotmail.com