Mogadishu is slowly transforming in to a city of development, commerce and vibrancy. With a little bit of stability, the entrepreneurial spirit of the Somali people will undeniably soar. The other side of this paradoxical city is however, equally present. The effects of poverty and lawlessness on the character of the city and its peope is evident everywhere.
Speaking to one of the women who had returned to reclaim her family's property, her story slowly put in perspective how much of the old warlords' power that still remain in tact, powers that are ironically endorsed by the central government. These warlords, who were in control of some of the city's districts with tremendous amount of blood on their hands have instead of being brought to justice, been given a government jacket, legalising their warlord behaviour and activities. This is apparently in part to encourage them to keep the peace and become part of the process to stabilise the city. The irony is that because their powers have remained in tact, they continue to operate as they did with no regard for government authority or the rule of law.
This lady had inherited her late father's property and took the relevant documents to city hall where she received written confirmation from the mayor's office that she indeed owned the claimed property and that the present occupiers ought to vacate the property. She took this letter to the commissioner of the district where her property was located. She told me once he realised the property in question, he loaded his rifle and held it against her head. He warned her that if she dared to come back to his district again claiming that property, she would not get out alive. Naturally, she was very disturbed and returned to the mayor's office. She told me the mayor refused to intervene and in fact advised her against taking any legal action and that she should come back on a day when that commissioner in question no longer controls her property's district. She later found out her property was occupied by the commissioner's cousin.
One can only imagine the grief and frustration this lady had to endure. Real reconciliation cannot take off without due justice and the addressing of grievances held. Property issues are among some of the biggest issues that are barely discussed publicly but serve as foundations for ongoing disputes. Warlordism is another issue that is often spoken of in a historical context but remains vividly active today, with some warlords being far more powerful than the government itself.
Monday, August 19, 2013
Thursday, August 15, 2013
Mogadishu chronicles; say less, care more
My second visit to Mogadishu began July 30th. This time I'm working on an anti piracy media campaign by UNSOM for which I am producing several TV programmes.Ironically, the city is much busier than last year. There were elections and constitutional conferences taking place then but the city seems much more densely populated now. People from across the country young and old have come to Mogadishu to seek better fortunes. Folks from the Diaspora are also here in abundance, establishing businesses or trying to get a foot in any government door.
The security situation has plummeted. Explosions, grenade attacks and roadside bombings are occurring far too often. Everyone is trigger happy. Yesterday a car in front of us shot bullets in the air just to get the traffic in front of him moving. Several days ago, a plane allegedly carrying weapons for the government from Ethiopia crashed into Mogadishu airport. The other allegation is that the weapons were headed for Kismayo and were meant for the militia of Ahmed Madobe.
The rampant insecurity and the reality that one truly lives on the edge in Mogadishu puts life in stark perspective. Every minute lived is a minute survived. It drills home the fragility of our lives, how not in control we are. It makes you appreciate the little things we often overlook when life's fragile nature isn't brought so near, like the morning banter with your neighbour next door, the stranger who holds the hotel gate open for you, reconnecting with your friends and family over the phone or the Internet since both take a regular sabbatical. Mogadishu makes you want to run to your loved ones, kiss them on the forehead and tell them you truly love them, unequivocally.
Anyone who has a dispute resorts to violence.A local guy who used to make money from lighting the streets using small electrical light bulbs has lost his business because of the lamp posts that the government has installed that are lit using solar energy which are built on some of the streets. Someone like him would plant bombs on those lamp posts purely out of spite. Street development puts him out of business. There is also a rapid development of private properties that people are building which would slowly put hotels out of business. The main reason people stay in hotels is because of the security they provide but the more people feel comfortable in the city, the less they'll need to stay in hotels so the hotel owners would create instability to ensure their businesses stay afloat. A similar argument can be made for NGO communities, private businesses and security companies. The street patrollers are often working without salary so when someone wants to plant a bomb, a hundred dollars and food for the night will make the guard turn a blind eye.There is so much vested interest in maintaining the status quo that it is difficult to see light at the end of the tunnel. Still, we remain hopeful...
The security situation has plummeted. Explosions, grenade attacks and roadside bombings are occurring far too often. Everyone is trigger happy. Yesterday a car in front of us shot bullets in the air just to get the traffic in front of him moving. Several days ago, a plane allegedly carrying weapons for the government from Ethiopia crashed into Mogadishu airport. The other allegation is that the weapons were headed for Kismayo and were meant for the militia of Ahmed Madobe.
The rampant insecurity and the reality that one truly lives on the edge in Mogadishu puts life in stark perspective. Every minute lived is a minute survived. It drills home the fragility of our lives, how not in control we are. It makes you appreciate the little things we often overlook when life's fragile nature isn't brought so near, like the morning banter with your neighbour next door, the stranger who holds the hotel gate open for you, reconnecting with your friends and family over the phone or the Internet since both take a regular sabbatical. Mogadishu makes you want to run to your loved ones, kiss them on the forehead and tell them you truly love them, unequivocally.
Anyone who has a dispute resorts to violence.A local guy who used to make money from lighting the streets using small electrical light bulbs has lost his business because of the lamp posts that the government has installed that are lit using solar energy which are built on some of the streets. Someone like him would plant bombs on those lamp posts purely out of spite. Street development puts him out of business. There is also a rapid development of private properties that people are building which would slowly put hotels out of business. The main reason people stay in hotels is because of the security they provide but the more people feel comfortable in the city, the less they'll need to stay in hotels so the hotel owners would create instability to ensure their businesses stay afloat. A similar argument can be made for NGO communities, private businesses and security companies. The street patrollers are often working without salary so when someone wants to plant a bomb, a hundred dollars and food for the night will make the guard turn a blind eye.There is so much vested interest in maintaining the status quo that it is difficult to see light at the end of the tunnel. Still, we remain hopeful...
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
a diaspora coming into being
I was recently working on a research project looking into the Somali people's experience of living in Europe. The research focused on enhancing current social policies so we looked into all sectors of public life and institutions and it was breathtaking to observe the frustrations that the people faced but also how remarkably ambitious people were. What caught my attention particularly was how an increasing number of the older generation was employed and harboured great ambitions despite each one of them having an average of 6-7 children in addition to looking after parents and other elderly relatives. Quite a few of them were near retirement age but still possessed a zest for life and an appetite to work.
There was also an immense diversity in the disciplines and career aspirations of the youth moving away from the traditionally pursued areas of medicine, law, computing and engineering. Many of these youth have been raised on income benefits and haven't had the privileges that are often exposed to their peers but they still finished their schools with top marks. This really infused a great deal of hope in me of what the future might bring.
But there are some stark challenges that lie ahead and a common thread among most people we spoke to trickled down to language barriers. The main problem with the current ESOL system is that it is designed in a 'one-size-fits-all' kind of way. This means people coming from an academic background or have professional skills that just need to learn the language are sitting in the same class as people from an unskilled background. The two clearly can't learn at the same speed nor do they have the same comprehension level so the teaching becomes prolonged, tedious and eventually, fruitless. If any tangible progress is sought from these classes, they really need to reform and tailor to the needs of the students more acutely.
Many Somalis who have studied in the countries they have moved from find themselves in this ESOL rut and end up doing menial work that don't require much English. The language barrier also affects them when it comes to accessing public services whether it is going to the GP, dealing with their children's schools, sorting out housing issues or liaising with the local council.It is important that the ESOL issues in the UK is addressed but I also feel that the people need to make a greater effort themselves to overcome these challenges. The Somali diaspora have demonstrated the valuable contribution they can make through their efforts towards Somalia but this needs to be done in parallel to striving to become an integral part of the local society here in the UK. This is particularly important for the upcoming youth who have shown remarkable potential but they need a leadership that can steer them to achieve that potential. The adults therefore need to become the role models that their children can aspire to be like.
There was also an immense diversity in the disciplines and career aspirations of the youth moving away from the traditionally pursued areas of medicine, law, computing and engineering. Many of these youth have been raised on income benefits and haven't had the privileges that are often exposed to their peers but they still finished their schools with top marks. This really infused a great deal of hope in me of what the future might bring.
But there are some stark challenges that lie ahead and a common thread among most people we spoke to trickled down to language barriers. The main problem with the current ESOL system is that it is designed in a 'one-size-fits-all' kind of way. This means people coming from an academic background or have professional skills that just need to learn the language are sitting in the same class as people from an unskilled background. The two clearly can't learn at the same speed nor do they have the same comprehension level so the teaching becomes prolonged, tedious and eventually, fruitless. If any tangible progress is sought from these classes, they really need to reform and tailor to the needs of the students more acutely.
Many Somalis who have studied in the countries they have moved from find themselves in this ESOL rut and end up doing menial work that don't require much English. The language barrier also affects them when it comes to accessing public services whether it is going to the GP, dealing with their children's schools, sorting out housing issues or liaising with the local council.It is important that the ESOL issues in the UK is addressed but I also feel that the people need to make a greater effort themselves to overcome these challenges. The Somali diaspora have demonstrated the valuable contribution they can make through their efforts towards Somalia but this needs to be done in parallel to striving to become an integral part of the local society here in the UK. This is particularly important for the upcoming youth who have shown remarkable potential but they need a leadership that can steer them to achieve that potential. The adults therefore need to become the role models that their children can aspire to be like.
Friday, January 4, 2013
a new dawn..
The beginning of a new year is always promising and full of hope. We spent much of December and beginning of January planning the dreams and aspirations we hope to achieve in the new year. I for one had a very fulfilling 2012 and so my only real goal for 2013 is to try and stay on course.
I was very lucky to have been able to travel to Somalia last year and play a small part in the political changes the country was going through as well as help highlight some of the developmental challenges that still plague many regions. One of the main issues that weighed heavy on my heart, and that I wish to focus on in this brief note, is the haphazardness in the way many people were operating and this is largely due to people meddling in areas that are outside their skill-sets. It sounds very elementary but chaos certainly rises from people trying to do jobs they are not equipped to do. And this is across the board from politics to media, education and humanitarianism, I saw people young and old with lots of enthusiasm and zeal but zero clue of what ought to be done. I sadly also noticed how many people are in it for the wrong reasons, seeking praise and recognition without putting in the hard work. This is an underestimated and overlooked issue that can be costly if it is not addressed.
That being said, I remain inspired by the few that are the exception to the above issue, especially the youth both from the diaspora and within Somalia that put their degrees and professional experience to good use in places where they are really needed. It's these kinds of efforts that need to be sought out, empowered and promoted. The youth really can make the necessary change, if equipped with the right guidance and support as their hearts are often clean from the traumas of clannism.
This is the time where the older generation needs to put their differences aside and come together to inspire the next generation of leaders and in order for that to come to fruition, older generation need to start reflecting on the kind of influence they have on their youngsters and whether this can bring positive changes in the long run.
More than anything,sincerity and a revival of moral conscientiousness needs to take place among all that wish to work towards the rebuilding of Somalia.
May this year be the year she starts to shine.....
I was very lucky to have been able to travel to Somalia last year and play a small part in the political changes the country was going through as well as help highlight some of the developmental challenges that still plague many regions. One of the main issues that weighed heavy on my heart, and that I wish to focus on in this brief note, is the haphazardness in the way many people were operating and this is largely due to people meddling in areas that are outside their skill-sets. It sounds very elementary but chaos certainly rises from people trying to do jobs they are not equipped to do. And this is across the board from politics to media, education and humanitarianism, I saw people young and old with lots of enthusiasm and zeal but zero clue of what ought to be done. I sadly also noticed how many people are in it for the wrong reasons, seeking praise and recognition without putting in the hard work. This is an underestimated and overlooked issue that can be costly if it is not addressed.
That being said, I remain inspired by the few that are the exception to the above issue, especially the youth both from the diaspora and within Somalia that put their degrees and professional experience to good use in places where they are really needed. It's these kinds of efforts that need to be sought out, empowered and promoted. The youth really can make the necessary change, if equipped with the right guidance and support as their hearts are often clean from the traumas of clannism.
This is the time where the older generation needs to put their differences aside and come together to inspire the next generation of leaders and in order for that to come to fruition, older generation need to start reflecting on the kind of influence they have on their youngsters and whether this can bring positive changes in the long run.
More than anything,sincerity and a revival of moral conscientiousness needs to take place among all that wish to work towards the rebuilding of Somalia.
May this year be the year she starts to shine.....
Saturday, November 3, 2012
Somalia's women
Much of the political rhetoric surrounding Somalia in the last few months has seen a reoccurrence of one debate; women's participation. I was in Mogadishu when the roadmap milestones were met with the approval of the draft constitution and selection of parliament. But whilst these milestones were being celebrated, particularly because for the first time it was held in Mogadishu, many women were galvanising one another to push for more female political participation. Whilst at the constitution conference, outburst of women voicing their perturbance kept happening. I spoke to some of them then and the key concern seemed to be the fear of not getting their 30% quota in the parliament.
They didn't get their quota and since then, many presidential candidates including the current president included this issue as a priority into their campaign. I waited to see if any of these discussions and promises would bear fruit and, going by the street talk of Mogadishu in the last few days, the new cabinet, when announced, might be taking a key step into the forward movement of this debate in the form of a female foreign minister.
If this does become true it might be a cause for celebration but what lingers in the back of my mind is the fact that Somali women had always as far back as history depicts been part and parcel of Somali society, unlike our Arab and Western counterparts. They were highly active and held many key posts within government, including ministerial, as well as leading other areas and institutions of the Somali country and society. One of the fond memories I have as a child in Mogadishu is going with my mother to her university, whose department was led by a female professor.
And then when the civil war broke out, women took an even greater social responsibility upon their shoulders and became the backbone of society and initiators of survival. So I wonder when did this backward moving shift occur where women have now got to ask for inclusion, as if they're second class citizens? Till this day most women are the breadwinners of their households and leaders of their communities but them advocating for a minority inclusion defeats the mountainous role they always held.
It is a topical issue, one that can certainly not be concluded in a mere blog post but I just wanted to shed light into the need to properly examine and engage with somali women with regards to the roles they played, engage them on an equal platform as men and then look into developing their
participation, rather than having minority quotas and the odd ministerial position allocated.
They didn't get their quota and since then, many presidential candidates including the current president included this issue as a priority into their campaign. I waited to see if any of these discussions and promises would bear fruit and, going by the street talk of Mogadishu in the last few days, the new cabinet, when announced, might be taking a key step into the forward movement of this debate in the form of a female foreign minister.
If this does become true it might be a cause for celebration but what lingers in the back of my mind is the fact that Somali women had always as far back as history depicts been part and parcel of Somali society, unlike our Arab and Western counterparts. They were highly active and held many key posts within government, including ministerial, as well as leading other areas and institutions of the Somali country and society. One of the fond memories I have as a child in Mogadishu is going with my mother to her university, whose department was led by a female professor.
And then when the civil war broke out, women took an even greater social responsibility upon their shoulders and became the backbone of society and initiators of survival. So I wonder when did this backward moving shift occur where women have now got to ask for inclusion, as if they're second class citizens? Till this day most women are the breadwinners of their households and leaders of their communities but them advocating for a minority inclusion defeats the mountainous role they always held.
It is a topical issue, one that can certainly not be concluded in a mere blog post but I just wanted to shed light into the need to properly examine and engage with somali women with regards to the roles they played, engage them on an equal platform as men and then look into developing their
participation, rather than having minority quotas and the odd ministerial position allocated.
Monday, August 27, 2012
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Mogadishu chronicles
My longing to see the city I was born in which I harboured for many years, finally came into realisation on the 20th of July 2012. I went for an assignment to moderate the Somali draft constitution conference. Prior to this trip, last time I was in Mogadishu was in 1989 as a 6 year old. As my flight lowered on to the ground ready to land, I noticed the beautiful blue ocean, its waves flowing serenely onto the crisp white beaches. Right next to it, there is a sea of makeshift tents scattered across the city, filled with displaced people. I was about to come face to face with my birth city, a city torn forlornly by war.
I made my way into the airport and had to queue in the 'foreigners' line for immigration. I was a foreigner in my native soil. I had to buy a visa to enter my homeland. It was a bitter pill to swallow. On my way to the hotel, bullet holes and destroyed buildings decorated the streets. People built makeshift tents in the old government ministries which were now destroyed beyond recognition. Every moment or so fresh gunshots would sound in the faint distant. My city was a city of conflict.
The first few days at work were haphazard and chaotic. The conference was being held at the former police academy and countless security checkpoints were put in place. More than 800 people from across Somalia were assembled to approve the draft constitution and hundreds of staff were hired to facilitate the conference during the 9 days it would last.But given the lack of coordination between those working there, minute tasks became impossible to accomplish. Security personnel weren't adequately trained so they would search people in the most inappropriate ways. Additionally, senior dignitaries and government officials were present most days which made circumstances extremely volatile. Whilst there, a mortar attack aimed at where people go through security and two suicide bombings were carried out. The suicide bombings were particularly frightening as they occurred just outside of the building where the conference was being held. The explosion shook the entire building and part of the ceiling came off. A security guard got injured and another one died. We all hurriedly ran towards the door and as I walked outside, I saw bits and pieces of the limbs and other body parts of the suicide bombers, dispersed across the ground.
Back at the hotel, most evenings would be filled with similar anxiety. Mogadishu keeps you on your toes. Every night, I would hear a varying number of casualties that had been killed either by roadside bombs or targeted assassination. Leaving the hotel was unimaginable.The sound of gunshots in the night were so regular that eventually it became the background music of my city. Strangely, I got used to hearing them after some days but would still have the occasional flinch.
When the work was done, I had a few moments to drive through the city. I was lucky enough to see the ward of the hospital where I was born, Medina hospital. I also went to the beach and played with its sand, a rare moment of tranquility amid chaotic circumstances. The city was beloved to me, it still is but its heart had been pierced and shredded and it pained me. I felt like I was driving through a ghost city. Very few buildings were in tact and the people looked like they had been to hell and back.
I took a moment to mingle with the people and noticed despite living in a city ravaged by war and having lived through it, they were remarkably hopeful and ambitious. I met several youngsters who were eager to educate themselves doing degrees and diplomas consecutively whilst having a part time job. The local business people were full of creative ideas. The entrepreneurial spirit of the people was alive and thriving. It was then that it dawned on me that the people of Mogadishu had moved beyond fighting with one another. There was no sign of clan animosity. They were ready for peace and stability but their leaders weren't moving in the same speed...
The city gave me a good sent off on the day I was flying out. The guards at the security checkpoint at the entrance of the airport struggled to get people to form a line. Instead of telling them to queue up, they fired gunshots in the air whilst standing right next to us. This was clearly the main form of communication but I remain optimistic and hope the next time I am there, the language of humanity would be there to greet me.
I made my way into the airport and had to queue in the 'foreigners' line for immigration. I was a foreigner in my native soil. I had to buy a visa to enter my homeland. It was a bitter pill to swallow. On my way to the hotel, bullet holes and destroyed buildings decorated the streets. People built makeshift tents in the old government ministries which were now destroyed beyond recognition. Every moment or so fresh gunshots would sound in the faint distant. My city was a city of conflict.
The first few days at work were haphazard and chaotic. The conference was being held at the former police academy and countless security checkpoints were put in place. More than 800 people from across Somalia were assembled to approve the draft constitution and hundreds of staff were hired to facilitate the conference during the 9 days it would last.But given the lack of coordination between those working there, minute tasks became impossible to accomplish. Security personnel weren't adequately trained so they would search people in the most inappropriate ways. Additionally, senior dignitaries and government officials were present most days which made circumstances extremely volatile. Whilst there, a mortar attack aimed at where people go through security and two suicide bombings were carried out. The suicide bombings were particularly frightening as they occurred just outside of the building where the conference was being held. The explosion shook the entire building and part of the ceiling came off. A security guard got injured and another one died. We all hurriedly ran towards the door and as I walked outside, I saw bits and pieces of the limbs and other body parts of the suicide bombers, dispersed across the ground.
Back at the hotel, most evenings would be filled with similar anxiety. Mogadishu keeps you on your toes. Every night, I would hear a varying number of casualties that had been killed either by roadside bombs or targeted assassination. Leaving the hotel was unimaginable.The sound of gunshots in the night were so regular that eventually it became the background music of my city. Strangely, I got used to hearing them after some days but would still have the occasional flinch.
When the work was done, I had a few moments to drive through the city. I was lucky enough to see the ward of the hospital where I was born, Medina hospital. I also went to the beach and played with its sand, a rare moment of tranquility amid chaotic circumstances. The city was beloved to me, it still is but its heart had been pierced and shredded and it pained me. I felt like I was driving through a ghost city. Very few buildings were in tact and the people looked like they had been to hell and back.
I took a moment to mingle with the people and noticed despite living in a city ravaged by war and having lived through it, they were remarkably hopeful and ambitious. I met several youngsters who were eager to educate themselves doing degrees and diplomas consecutively whilst having a part time job. The local business people were full of creative ideas. The entrepreneurial spirit of the people was alive and thriving. It was then that it dawned on me that the people of Mogadishu had moved beyond fighting with one another. There was no sign of clan animosity. They were ready for peace and stability but their leaders weren't moving in the same speed...
The city gave me a good sent off on the day I was flying out. The guards at the security checkpoint at the entrance of the airport struggled to get people to form a line. Instead of telling them to queue up, they fired gunshots in the air whilst standing right next to us. This was clearly the main form of communication but I remain optimistic and hope the next time I am there, the language of humanity would be there to greet me.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
a noble concept
As I left Cardiff last week on my way to Leicester, I wanted to discover the walking route to the Cardiff central train station. I normally catch the inner city train from my neighbourhood. Armed with directions on my iPad I went on my way but was soon lost given my habit of being directionally challenged! I asked some local policemen and as they were explaining the walking route, a passer-by overheard our conversation and when I began walking in the direction the police had pointed towards, the passer-by told me he was going in the direction of the train station and could show me.
Since we live in a paranoid-state-of-mind environment, I instinctively took a step away and looked him up and down, checking for the presence of any weirdness but then I thought not everyone has to have an ulterior motive to be nice and I gave him the benefit of the doubt. He led the way and as we walked through the town centre and I explained I was still getting to know Cardiff, he informed me of all the buildings we walked passed, told me their history and when they were built, pointed where the cheapest shops were and local markets where the freshest fruit and veg could be found. I had a guided tour and as we arrived at the train station, he wished me well and went back to work. It was during his lunch hour that he showed me the train station when most of us would think 'I only have an hour, where is the nearest place I can grab something to eat?'
The instinct to help another person when you can has become a dying commodity. In fact we are so used to individualism that we often assume there is a catch when someone offers to help, as I did.
Whilst on the train, I was overwhelmed with a sense of appreciation but I also couldn't help but feel guilty. Guilty that my first thought was one of suspicion as the gentleman offered to help. Guilty for not expecting niceness of humanity in the first instance. We should assume good of people until one is proven otherwise, innocent until proven guilty so to speak but I'm guessing we've become hardwired, engulfed in this tit-for-tat lifestyle of self-centredness.
This encounter was a lesson in humanity for me. Our society is made up of all sorts of people and for every rotten apple, there is a rose in bloom, somewhere...
Since we live in a paranoid-state-of-mind environment, I instinctively took a step away and looked him up and down, checking for the presence of any weirdness but then I thought not everyone has to have an ulterior motive to be nice and I gave him the benefit of the doubt. He led the way and as we walked through the town centre and I explained I was still getting to know Cardiff, he informed me of all the buildings we walked passed, told me their history and when they were built, pointed where the cheapest shops were and local markets where the freshest fruit and veg could be found. I had a guided tour and as we arrived at the train station, he wished me well and went back to work. It was during his lunch hour that he showed me the train station when most of us would think 'I only have an hour, where is the nearest place I can grab something to eat?'
The instinct to help another person when you can has become a dying commodity. In fact we are so used to individualism that we often assume there is a catch when someone offers to help, as I did.
Whilst on the train, I was overwhelmed with a sense of appreciation but I also couldn't help but feel guilty. Guilty that my first thought was one of suspicion as the gentleman offered to help. Guilty for not expecting niceness of humanity in the first instance. We should assume good of people until one is proven otherwise, innocent until proven guilty so to speak but I'm guessing we've become hardwired, engulfed in this tit-for-tat lifestyle of self-centredness.
This encounter was a lesson in humanity for me. Our society is made up of all sorts of people and for every rotten apple, there is a rose in bloom, somewhere...
Thursday, June 21, 2012
on the slow train, steadily going upstream..
Since commencing my PhD last October, I have often felt that I've been thrown in the deep end, at times thinking perhaps I've bitten more than I can intellectually chew. I started my journey with a set agenda instead of embracing that seeking knowledge is a limitless process without boundaries nor an end. I'm very fortunate to have realised this notion quite early on and it has made every piece of new knowledge that I've acquired since immensely fascinating. The irony that comes out of this process is how limited the human intellect really is, compared to the wealth of knowledge that is available and how we can't grasp most of it. Many a times I dropped several books because I just didn't get their theories but a few months later when I revisit them, they make sense. I even feel silly for not 'getting' it before and laugh. It is a humbling experience but you feel yourself growing and making remarkable progress at the same time, both academically and personally.
Last week I finalised my theoretical framework and research title after nine months of literature review. My research aims and methodology are taking shape and I feel quietly in control, something I haven't felt for many months! The natural storyteller in me is peeking through and I feel a story is coming out of this process on which I can confidently put my thumbprints on. The greater struggle is still ahead but as I look up, the journey to the finish line is looking to be a sweet one to enjoy.
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Trekking through the fields...In between beauty and catastrophe
Last month I was fortunate enough to have had the opportunity to visit some of the famine affected areas of Somalia. As most people know by now, Somalia faced the worst drought in 60 years in 2011 and by August, the United Nations declared famine in six regions of Somalia, threatening the lives of over 250,000 Somalis and requiring urgent humanitarian assistance for millions of people across the Horn of Africa. In February 2012, the UN declared the end of the famine but of course the needs of the people were still ever present.
I wanted to see what the conditions on the ground were post-famine and how the lives of those displaced by the famine were.
A group of us traveled to Mandera and crossed the border to the cities of Beledhawo, Dolow and the small villages in between. Before arriving in Mandera, we stayed in Nairobi for a few days where on the first night I was greeted by the buzzing sounds of mosquitoes. Last time I was in Africa was during a work trip to Ghana some 8 years ago so mosquito music had gone to the back of my head! Needless to say the mosquitoes had a feast biting me. Last time I was in Nairobi was also a long time ago, 14 years to be exact. Much has changed. One senses the city has indeed become a global hub for all things Africa. But what I was happy to encounter to not have changed is the humility and friendliness of the Kenyan people. Eastleigh is of course still 'Eslii' but the neighbourhood's businesses are booming more than ever. If one can bear with the dirty streets and rubbish piles, you'll find the nicest 5 star hotels, complete with a sewage view...
At 5.30am on the second of April, we arrived at Wilson airport to fly to Mandera. Mandera was hot, humid and dusty and tension was in the air. Just a mere few days earlier, clashes between the local tribes occurred which led to many of the residents fleeing into Somalia or the rural areas. Luckily things had been settled between the people by the time we arrived but schools were still closed and the city did not have the usual buzz of life. Soldiers guarded the streets by day and silence by night. I was keen to see Somalia, mingle with the people. I found them to be amazingly at ease with whatever their lot was. In Beledhawo, on the outskirts, there is an IDP camp called Tuulo-Amin. This camp holds between 1800-2500 displaced people and most of them fled from the Bay, Bakool, Mid and Lower Shabelle regions which were all affected by the famine last year. I met a beautiful young lady at the camp, Sulekha. She told me she fled her village in Bakool with her six younger siblings, leaving behind both her parents as they were too weak to walk. She also has children and a husband of her own. She is only 20 years old. These are the silent heroes of strength bearing the real burdens of responsibility.
In Beledhawo, there is a dire need for the rebuilding of basic infrastructure. The city has been engulfed by constant warfare and people are scared to invest. This means basic healthcare, primary education and adequate sanitation facilities are in dire need.
Some 35 km away from Beledhawo is the city of Dolow. There is a vast contrast between the two cities. Dolow has not been affected by the conflict as much as Beledhawo has so one will find Dolow to be more built. There is an airport where aid agencies can deliver aid directly, the town centre has some healthy businesses and people's basic needs seem to be met. Here too, there is a large IDP camp populated with over 2000 people, mostly from the same regions as those in Beledhawo. Because these people look to be of African descent, the other local Somalis discriminate harshly against them. This often affects the way food is distributed in the camp.
Outside of Dolow, in the rural areas, population has grown dense and pastoral people do not move around anymore. The famine wiped out all of their livestock and although it has rained, people have nothing to move with and can therefore not rebuild their lives. Walking through the rural areas, it is immensely dry. The greenery of the land has vanished. The rain that fell between September and December last year did not make much of a difference to that part of the country and this speaks of the magnitude of the effects of the drought. The rain actually brought a surge in waterborne diseases such as diarrhea, cholera and malaria and without adequate healthcare coupled with lack of hygiene, people continue to die in the thousands.
I flew back to Nairobi and back home with a heavy heart and much to ponder on. For one, I was happy to find that the security conditions in South Somalia were gravely exaggerated. People were all but advising us against going there but I firmly believe we as a people will never be able to bring effective change if we continue to be scared, watching from the sidelines. I found the most pressing need in that area at this moment to be healthcare rather than food aid. Although food is immensely needed, local aid agencies as well as some international ones are actively distributing food on a regular basis, albeit in short supply. Also many Somalis have relatives abroad that send them remittances.
With regards to healthcare, the whole region shares 4 doctors, two of whom are private and people cant afford to pay for healthcare and the other two, who are meant to be based in the Beledhawo hospital are instead in Mandera, citing 'security issues'.
Alongside healthcare relief, methods to move people from emergency relief to development for them to be self-sufficient again should be put in place. In addition to the human catastrophe, environmental degradation and deforestation have robbed the country of its life. All these elements combined, the likelihood of another famine becomes unfortunately inevitable.
A group of us traveled to Mandera and crossed the border to the cities of Beledhawo, Dolow and the small villages in between. Before arriving in Mandera, we stayed in Nairobi for a few days where on the first night I was greeted by the buzzing sounds of mosquitoes. Last time I was in Africa was during a work trip to Ghana some 8 years ago so mosquito music had gone to the back of my head! Needless to say the mosquitoes had a feast biting me. Last time I was in Nairobi was also a long time ago, 14 years to be exact. Much has changed. One senses the city has indeed become a global hub for all things Africa. But what I was happy to encounter to not have changed is the humility and friendliness of the Kenyan people. Eastleigh is of course still 'Eslii' but the neighbourhood's businesses are booming more than ever. If one can bear with the dirty streets and rubbish piles, you'll find the nicest 5 star hotels, complete with a sewage view...
At 5.30am on the second of April, we arrived at Wilson airport to fly to Mandera. Mandera was hot, humid and dusty and tension was in the air. Just a mere few days earlier, clashes between the local tribes occurred which led to many of the residents fleeing into Somalia or the rural areas. Luckily things had been settled between the people by the time we arrived but schools were still closed and the city did not have the usual buzz of life. Soldiers guarded the streets by day and silence by night. I was keen to see Somalia, mingle with the people. I found them to be amazingly at ease with whatever their lot was. In Beledhawo, on the outskirts, there is an IDP camp called Tuulo-Amin. This camp holds between 1800-2500 displaced people and most of them fled from the Bay, Bakool, Mid and Lower Shabelle regions which were all affected by the famine last year. I met a beautiful young lady at the camp, Sulekha. She told me she fled her village in Bakool with her six younger siblings, leaving behind both her parents as they were too weak to walk. She also has children and a husband of her own. She is only 20 years old. These are the silent heroes of strength bearing the real burdens of responsibility.
In Beledhawo, there is a dire need for the rebuilding of basic infrastructure. The city has been engulfed by constant warfare and people are scared to invest. This means basic healthcare, primary education and adequate sanitation facilities are in dire need.
Some 35 km away from Beledhawo is the city of Dolow. There is a vast contrast between the two cities. Dolow has not been affected by the conflict as much as Beledhawo has so one will find Dolow to be more built. There is an airport where aid agencies can deliver aid directly, the town centre has some healthy businesses and people's basic needs seem to be met. Here too, there is a large IDP camp populated with over 2000 people, mostly from the same regions as those in Beledhawo. Because these people look to be of African descent, the other local Somalis discriminate harshly against them. This often affects the way food is distributed in the camp.
Outside of Dolow, in the rural areas, population has grown dense and pastoral people do not move around anymore. The famine wiped out all of their livestock and although it has rained, people have nothing to move with and can therefore not rebuild their lives. Walking through the rural areas, it is immensely dry. The greenery of the land has vanished. The rain that fell between September and December last year did not make much of a difference to that part of the country and this speaks of the magnitude of the effects of the drought. The rain actually brought a surge in waterborne diseases such as diarrhea, cholera and malaria and without adequate healthcare coupled with lack of hygiene, people continue to die in the thousands.
I flew back to Nairobi and back home with a heavy heart and much to ponder on. For one, I was happy to find that the security conditions in South Somalia were gravely exaggerated. People were all but advising us against going there but I firmly believe we as a people will never be able to bring effective change if we continue to be scared, watching from the sidelines. I found the most pressing need in that area at this moment to be healthcare rather than food aid. Although food is immensely needed, local aid agencies as well as some international ones are actively distributing food on a regular basis, albeit in short supply. Also many Somalis have relatives abroad that send them remittances.
With regards to healthcare, the whole region shares 4 doctors, two of whom are private and people cant afford to pay for healthcare and the other two, who are meant to be based in the Beledhawo hospital are instead in Mandera, citing 'security issues'.
Alongside healthcare relief, methods to move people from emergency relief to development for them to be self-sufficient again should be put in place. In addition to the human catastrophe, environmental degradation and deforestation have robbed the country of its life. All these elements combined, the likelihood of another famine becomes unfortunately inevitable.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
the City of Leicester: virtue in action
A much overdue dedication to the local authorities and residents of my hometown, the city of Leicester, for their stance against the EDL. As many of you know, they came to demonstrate in our city 2 weekends ago using the four Somali girls who had beaten a local English girl as an excuse to incite hatred amongst the locals. But instead of countering their vile actions with similar demonstrations and eruption of violence, which is synonymous with EDL protests, the local community put together a well-organised awareness raising campaign shown through the local and independent media about the Somali people in Leicester. Somalis also took active part in working closely with all the other communities to achieve this.
This was enhanced by the local authorities declaring a free library day on Saturday allowing youngsters to borrow and read books, dvd's and cd's for free and if they owed fines to the libraries, it was written off. Furthermore all the local leisure centres declared an open day where everyone could use the facilities for free.
This not only helped to keep people off the streets to avoid any potential clashes but it also brought people together from all ethnicities and neighbourhoods, symbolising the truly multicultural unity of Leicester. People also came together to work alongside the police to patrol locally owned businesses and generally maintained a happy-spirited sense of solidarity. The rare occasion when good truly repelled evil!
The week before last saw me wrapping up the second half term break session mentoring the Somali youth of Leicester, this time they learned about communication and presentation skills through making videos but they also engaged in workshops where they were familiarised with conflict resolution and engaging with the politics of the country. One learns much from the free-spiritedness of children and their sense of being inquisitive, an art-form we unfortunately shed as we grow into adulthood. Our children really are a beacon of intellect and my only hope for prosperity coming back to Somalia really lies with them, passionately.
Speaking of Somalia, the London conference overshadowed much of whatever else that was happening in the world on Thursday. As usual many senior figures were present and much was promised. Whether those promises will come into fruition is the million dollar question..
This was enhanced by the local authorities declaring a free library day on Saturday allowing youngsters to borrow and read books, dvd's and cd's for free and if they owed fines to the libraries, it was written off. Furthermore all the local leisure centres declared an open day where everyone could use the facilities for free.
This not only helped to keep people off the streets to avoid any potential clashes but it also brought people together from all ethnicities and neighbourhoods, symbolising the truly multicultural unity of Leicester. People also came together to work alongside the police to patrol locally owned businesses and generally maintained a happy-spirited sense of solidarity. The rare occasion when good truly repelled evil!
The week before last saw me wrapping up the second half term break session mentoring the Somali youth of Leicester, this time they learned about communication and presentation skills through making videos but they also engaged in workshops where they were familiarised with conflict resolution and engaging with the politics of the country. One learns much from the free-spiritedness of children and their sense of being inquisitive, an art-form we unfortunately shed as we grow into adulthood. Our children really are a beacon of intellect and my only hope for prosperity coming back to Somalia really lies with them, passionately.
Speaking of Somalia, the London conference overshadowed much of whatever else that was happening in the world on Thursday. As usual many senior figures were present and much was promised. Whether those promises will come into fruition is the million dollar question..
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
power of literature in bringing social change
A few days ago, I facilitated a social event that explored the issues of FGM within the African societies back in the continent as well as those here in the Diaspora. The issues were brought forward through a theatre play followed by a panel discussion. What was particularly a breath of fresh air for me was that the panel discussion included male Muslim scholars that were not only able to voice the teachings of Islam on circumcision but also speak out and advocate against the barbaric traditions that are often interwoven with religion when it comes to FGM.
Some of the interesting dimensions that I picked up on from the event were how vocal the youth of the African Diaspora were, particularly the Somali youth,in expressing their dislike towards this practice with many of them detailing their preference to the contrary.
It has been a long struggle if one reflects on the fight against FGM in the Somali as well as the African context but much has been achieved, many are enlightened and on the whole much of today's society is fortunately equipped with enough education to stop practicing this tradition. However the fact remains that it is not an eradicated practice and if we take heed from what some of the attendees of the event have related to us, FGM is rampant in many parts of the motherland and its practice is sacredly being passed on to the new generations.
Thus, as always, the fight must continue...
Some of the interesting dimensions that I picked up on from the event were how vocal the youth of the African Diaspora were, particularly the Somali youth,in expressing their dislike towards this practice with many of them detailing their preference to the contrary.
It has been a long struggle if one reflects on the fight against FGM in the Somali as well as the African context but much has been achieved, many are enlightened and on the whole much of today's society is fortunately equipped with enough education to stop practicing this tradition. However the fact remains that it is not an eradicated practice and if we take heed from what some of the attendees of the event have related to us, FGM is rampant in many parts of the motherland and its practice is sacredly being passed on to the new generations.
Thus, as always, the fight must continue...
Saturday, January 14, 2012
the year of optimism
The year 2012 has fast come. Time flies far quicker than I can keep up with these days. I am however trolling along with an optimistic outlook on what's ahead of us this year. I'm getting to know the land of the Welsh and I must say, it has been a pleasant breath of fresh air thus far. I find myself directionally challenged lost in the most popular areas, but then again, one cannot bring a testimony without the tests...
My PhD is slowly taking the shape of a full time job (much of it spent trying to find the library!) that occupies my mind on a full time basis, but only noticed how consuming it is just now, as I reflect. It is a fine bubble to be in!
One of the issues I've been pondering on lately is that this year is the year of massive soldier withdrawal from Afghanistan.The United States is pulling out approximately 33,000 by the end of 2012, which is one third of the 101,000 American troops who were in Afghanistan in June, the peak of U.S. military presence in the war.Canada withdrew 2,850 combat forces and France and Britain will each send about 400 home while Poland is recalling 200 and Denmark and Slovenia are pulling out about 120 combined. On one hand it is good to see that this war might finally be coming to an end, hoping the Afghan troops can maintain law and order in their country.
I dread the conditions the returning soldiers will be facing though, as many of those who had come back from Rwanda, Iraq and Vietnam for example had severe stress and depression related illnesses leading to endangerment to themselves and others at times. Statistics that reflect the mental health conditions of returning soldiers and veterans and their levels of post-traumatic stress disorders are astounding. What's ironic is that these same soldiers are revered and well looked after by their governments prior to their departure.
I was watching a documentary not long ago that highlighted this issue titled 'A War in the Mind' and what baffled me was the lack of after-care there is available for these soldiers. It is almost as if they're of no more use, so they get disposed of and this is precisely what leads some of them to commit the ultimate act of violence against themselves.
For many of these soldiers, and probably for those that will return this year, admitting the symptoms is often the hardest in a “suck-it-up” military culture of macho toughness that stigmatizes men for the “weakness” of being emotionally troubled. What isn't often taken into account is that once a soldier returns from a battlefield, the horrors of war remain engraved in their memory long after the war has ended.
Being successful does not mean winning a war but rather being able to go to sleep with a clear conscious and waking up with a noble perspective.
My PhD is slowly taking the shape of a full time job (much of it spent trying to find the library!) that occupies my mind on a full time basis, but only noticed how consuming it is just now, as I reflect. It is a fine bubble to be in!
One of the issues I've been pondering on lately is that this year is the year of massive soldier withdrawal from Afghanistan.The United States is pulling out approximately 33,000 by the end of 2012, which is one third of the 101,000 American troops who were in Afghanistan in June, the peak of U.S. military presence in the war.Canada withdrew 2,850 combat forces and France and Britain will each send about 400 home while Poland is recalling 200 and Denmark and Slovenia are pulling out about 120 combined. On one hand it is good to see that this war might finally be coming to an end, hoping the Afghan troops can maintain law and order in their country.
I dread the conditions the returning soldiers will be facing though, as many of those who had come back from Rwanda, Iraq and Vietnam for example had severe stress and depression related illnesses leading to endangerment to themselves and others at times. Statistics that reflect the mental health conditions of returning soldiers and veterans and their levels of post-traumatic stress disorders are astounding. What's ironic is that these same soldiers are revered and well looked after by their governments prior to their departure.
I was watching a documentary not long ago that highlighted this issue titled 'A War in the Mind' and what baffled me was the lack of after-care there is available for these soldiers. It is almost as if they're of no more use, so they get disposed of and this is precisely what leads some of them to commit the ultimate act of violence against themselves.
For many of these soldiers, and probably for those that will return this year, admitting the symptoms is often the hardest in a “suck-it-up” military culture of macho toughness that stigmatizes men for the “weakness” of being emotionally troubled. What isn't often taken into account is that once a soldier returns from a battlefield, the horrors of war remain engraved in their memory long after the war has ended.
Being successful does not mean winning a war but rather being able to go to sleep with a clear conscious and waking up with a noble perspective.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
a tale of blame shifting
My little brother recently shared a story with me that served as a great reminder for me. He began his tale with 'Once upon a time, a devilish creature went to a kiosk in a small village and rubbed a streak of sweet jelly on one of its walls. An old wise man walked up to the creature and asked him why he's always misleading humanity to which the creature replied "I am not to blame for humanity's decisions." The old man walked away upset.
The jelly attracted a fly which got stuck on the wall. A customer that came to buy something from the kiosk brought along his cat. Whilst conversing with the owner, the customer's cat got attracted to the fly on the wall, and the cat then attracted the dog of the kiosk owner. Long story short; dog ended up killing the cat and a huge fight ensued between the customer and the kiosk owner. Their fight draw in the entire village and the kiosk owner gave the customer a final blow that led to the customer's death. A village-wide outcry led to a nationwide outcry and before long,a civil war broke out between those that supported the family of the kiosk owner and those on the dead customer's side.
The devilish creature came back to the old, wise man and said "You see what humanity is capable of without our involvement? All I did was rub some sweet jelly on a kiosk wall..."
We often hear many shifted blames and complaints about how others are in the wrong yet we rarely reflect on our individual parts of society's ills. This story served as a reminder for me and wanted to share it with you all hoping it might have similar impact.
The jelly attracted a fly which got stuck on the wall. A customer that came to buy something from the kiosk brought along his cat. Whilst conversing with the owner, the customer's cat got attracted to the fly on the wall, and the cat then attracted the dog of the kiosk owner. Long story short; dog ended up killing the cat and a huge fight ensued between the customer and the kiosk owner. Their fight draw in the entire village and the kiosk owner gave the customer a final blow that led to the customer's death. A village-wide outcry led to a nationwide outcry and before long,a civil war broke out between those that supported the family of the kiosk owner and those on the dead customer's side.
The devilish creature came back to the old, wise man and said "You see what humanity is capable of without our involvement? All I did was rub some sweet jelly on a kiosk wall..."
We often hear many shifted blames and complaints about how others are in the wrong yet we rarely reflect on our individual parts of society's ills. This story served as a reminder for me and wanted to share it with you all hoping it might have similar impact.
Monday, December 12, 2011
reflections of a hopeful student
The past few weeks have cocooned me into my own world of literature. When I started my PhD course in October, I was still in an idealistic state of mind reading 5-6 books a week of authors I personally liked and much of it was general media and conflict literature.
I had my first 'awakening' when I got feedback for my first literature review draft. Since then I've figured out I ought to be reading around 30 odd books, a wide range of journals and empirical data on a weekly basis in addition to critically analysing them! Swamped with this much information, one's mind can often get bogged down. But I've also had a good few 'Eureka' moments where ideas flowed out of my mind.
So far my studies have taken me along a humble path, realising the scope of knowledge there is out there and the human limitations when it comes to acquiring it. Every day I learn something new and every day I face a new intellectual challenge. It is a balancing act of patience, humility and optimism which I hope will gradually move me forward in to the realm of ongoing progression.
I am thoroughly enjoying it, far more than I had anticipated. Einstein's statement 'the more you seek knowledge, the more you realise you know nothing' often crosses my mind :). I feel I am growing on a daily basis and for that I am grateful.
I had my first 'awakening' when I got feedback for my first literature review draft. Since then I've figured out I ought to be reading around 30 odd books, a wide range of journals and empirical data on a weekly basis in addition to critically analysing them! Swamped with this much information, one's mind can often get bogged down. But I've also had a good few 'Eureka' moments where ideas flowed out of my mind.
So far my studies have taken me along a humble path, realising the scope of knowledge there is out there and the human limitations when it comes to acquiring it. Every day I learn something new and every day I face a new intellectual challenge. It is a balancing act of patience, humility and optimism which I hope will gradually move me forward in to the realm of ongoing progression.
I am thoroughly enjoying it, far more than I had anticipated. Einstein's statement 'the more you seek knowledge, the more you realise you know nothing' often crosses my mind :). I feel I am growing on a daily basis and for that I am grateful.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Post Somali Week
Though I'm still recuperating, I wanted to write a quick note of appreciation as I had a blast at Oxford House's Somali Week in London. I came back Sunday morning exhausted but filled with exuberance and hope for the heights Somali literature can reach in the future.
Many prominent artists, writers, publishers, poets and literary experts gathered for that one week and every day was a different flavour bringing many people across the spectrum together. Wednesday was particularly close to my heart as it was the evening dedicated to Women's Literature and the contributions they made to the development of society.
I've met some awe-inspiring youngsters and inspirational women and men that I hope to stay in touch with. If events like these were replicated across the country and perhaps even in the countries where there are large Somali communities, the image of the Somali people would be tipped towards the positive side.
Many prominent artists, writers, publishers, poets and literary experts gathered for that one week and every day was a different flavour bringing many people across the spectrum together. Wednesday was particularly close to my heart as it was the evening dedicated to Women's Literature and the contributions they made to the development of society.
I've met some awe-inspiring youngsters and inspirational women and men that I hope to stay in touch with. If events like these were replicated across the country and perhaps even in the countries where there are large Somali communities, the image of the Somali people would be tipped towards the positive side.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
For the love of humanity
I have always been a big fan of book gatherings and events that bring people who share a similar love for literature together. It is a different kind of love that overwhelms you when those gatherings are held for your own writings and people attend because they share your literary vision.
For the past two weeks I have been at awe and very humbled at how many people that turned up at our book launches across the city. People from all walks of life crossing gender, faith, class and social status came to share this journey with us in our quest to make a small contribution to the betterment of our Somali people and the societies we live in.
It is amazing to see the similarities in the human race and how there is a lot more that connects us than that which separates us. I've met people I never thought I'd come across only to have an instant bond with them through our common sense of humanity. They have given me memories, fond memories and for that my heart will remain touched.
For the past two weeks I have been at awe and very humbled at how many people that turned up at our book launches across the city. People from all walks of life crossing gender, faith, class and social status came to share this journey with us in our quest to make a small contribution to the betterment of our Somali people and the societies we live in.
It is amazing to see the similarities in the human race and how there is a lot more that connects us than that which separates us. I've met people I never thought I'd come across only to have an instant bond with them through our common sense of humanity. They have given me memories, fond memories and for that my heart will remain touched.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
humble beginnings...
For as long as I can remember, I've always dreamed of putting pen to paper in a definitive sense and share my creativity whilst contributing to the greater good. It has been a long time coming but my first book that I've co-authored with three other authors is finally out.
'Somalia to Europe; stories from the Somali Diaspora' looks at the experiences of the Somali-European community from fleeing the civil war to becoming refugees in various European countries and then migrating once again, this time seeking tolerance and social acceptance. Many seem to have found this in the UK but nevertheless have come across various ordeals and obstacles. This book captures those experiences in personal story formats and is written in both English and Somali. This is done for many reasons but primarily the intent is for the book to reach as many audiences as possible but also for it to serve as an archive of the history of the Somali people as they continue to evolve. The upcoming generations will have something that has been preserved that will teach them of their parents' history and migration to the Western lands. In the immediate future, we hope the book will create a better understanding amongst the wider communities of the Somali people, particularly those that engage with the Somali community so that better relations can be formed based on understanding, respect and mutual tolerance.
On an individual note, a human being is always observing the horizons of one's life continuously seeking meaning and a way to make a difference. This has been the driving force behind my part in this book. The stories captured in this book tell of joys and happiness, tears and pain, doubts and fear. Aspects that can resonate with human beings across the world since we are all connected through the emotions we experience and the quest for a better existence. When we begin to look around us and observe individuals and societies, we realise our journey is a shared experience...
'Somalia to Europe; stories from the Somali Diaspora' looks at the experiences of the Somali-European community from fleeing the civil war to becoming refugees in various European countries and then migrating once again, this time seeking tolerance and social acceptance. Many seem to have found this in the UK but nevertheless have come across various ordeals and obstacles. This book captures those experiences in personal story formats and is written in both English and Somali. This is done for many reasons but primarily the intent is for the book to reach as many audiences as possible but also for it to serve as an archive of the history of the Somali people as they continue to evolve. The upcoming generations will have something that has been preserved that will teach them of their parents' history and migration to the Western lands. In the immediate future, we hope the book will create a better understanding amongst the wider communities of the Somali people, particularly those that engage with the Somali community so that better relations can be formed based on understanding, respect and mutual tolerance.
On an individual note, a human being is always observing the horizons of one's life continuously seeking meaning and a way to make a difference. This has been the driving force behind my part in this book. The stories captured in this book tell of joys and happiness, tears and pain, doubts and fear. Aspects that can resonate with human beings across the world since we are all connected through the emotions we experience and the quest for a better existence. When we begin to look around us and observe individuals and societies, we realise our journey is a shared experience...
Thursday, August 25, 2011
post riot reflections
A mere few weeks ago, England had been swept by rioters causing havoc and upheaval in our mostly calm surroundings. The events were dominating most of the Western media as they spread across many of the British cities in a matter of days, all happening consecutively. For a moment the whole country went mad, mimicking signs of a people ready for a civil war. Here in Leicester, we had police officers almost in front of every house and shop with helicopters flying over each street. It created a tense atmosphere but it was also the reason why the yobs here were prevented from committing any real damage.
I'm happy to report things are back to normal. I went to London a few days ago where preparations and test runs for the Olympics were in full swing. Normality was in full bloom. If you hadn't watched the news, you wouldn't have thought any upheaval took place, let alone the biggest riot in English history. It's uplifting to see people value peace and serenity to this length and reassuring that the police has brought calmness to our streets.
What is pertinent that we ask one another is the reason for a peaceful demonstration in front of a local police station in one of the boroughs of London to spin so quickly out of control. What led to all these youth coming out in such full force having no mercy for anyone? The first and most obvious answer is that they are a pack of criminals who saw an opportunity and decided to take advantage. Once captured they need to be brought to justice. This is the most obvious explanation and that's what the government has been advocating for. The real underlying issue that will take much more effort than capturing and handcuffing these youth is the huge social divide in the British society where the upper and middle class live extravagantly and the working class struggle to reach a comfortable living. Taxes affect them the most as well as pensions being cut and student fees being trippled to £9000 per year.
In addition many of the youth from a working class background have been segregated into the life of the 'estate' because there aren't many other opportunities in the mainstream society. They are surrounded by poverty with the only role models being the local hustler and gang leader. Therefore when an opportunity like the recent demonstration comes along, it is their chance to feast! They couldn't care less about preserving public buildings and local businesses because they feel society hasn't preserved them. Whether they get a criminal record or serve time in prison is also of no concern since they never had any future aspirations. This really reminds me of the youth in Somalia who are a perpetual part of the agonising civil war. Those that are at the forefront of the Al-Shabab militias or the piracy that has gone beserk are all youngsters very much in their teens and early twenties.
I am by no means excusing their actions. What they did was vile and utterly unacceptable but I think it is high time we speak about and point out that the government and society at large starts addressing the core problems of issues like these and start implementing long-term solutions to draw the social gap in our society and for these youth to feel inclusive in the society they live in. This means educational opportunities affordable to them, job creation, training and vocational programs that are viable and ensure a difference in their lives and most of all they need mentors and role models that show there is another way of life. This is the only way we can ensure this sort of thing does not happen again on our streets and harmony across the classes of society is harboured. Otherwise we'll remain a ticking bomb not knowing the severity of the next explosion...
I'm happy to report things are back to normal. I went to London a few days ago where preparations and test runs for the Olympics were in full swing. Normality was in full bloom. If you hadn't watched the news, you wouldn't have thought any upheaval took place, let alone the biggest riot in English history. It's uplifting to see people value peace and serenity to this length and reassuring that the police has brought calmness to our streets.
What is pertinent that we ask one another is the reason for a peaceful demonstration in front of a local police station in one of the boroughs of London to spin so quickly out of control. What led to all these youth coming out in such full force having no mercy for anyone? The first and most obvious answer is that they are a pack of criminals who saw an opportunity and decided to take advantage. Once captured they need to be brought to justice. This is the most obvious explanation and that's what the government has been advocating for. The real underlying issue that will take much more effort than capturing and handcuffing these youth is the huge social divide in the British society where the upper and middle class live extravagantly and the working class struggle to reach a comfortable living. Taxes affect them the most as well as pensions being cut and student fees being trippled to £9000 per year.
In addition many of the youth from a working class background have been segregated into the life of the 'estate' because there aren't many other opportunities in the mainstream society. They are surrounded by poverty with the only role models being the local hustler and gang leader. Therefore when an opportunity like the recent demonstration comes along, it is their chance to feast! They couldn't care less about preserving public buildings and local businesses because they feel society hasn't preserved them. Whether they get a criminal record or serve time in prison is also of no concern since they never had any future aspirations. This really reminds me of the youth in Somalia who are a perpetual part of the agonising civil war. Those that are at the forefront of the Al-Shabab militias or the piracy that has gone beserk are all youngsters very much in their teens and early twenties.
I am by no means excusing their actions. What they did was vile and utterly unacceptable but I think it is high time we speak about and point out that the government and society at large starts addressing the core problems of issues like these and start implementing long-term solutions to draw the social gap in our society and for these youth to feel inclusive in the society they live in. This means educational opportunities affordable to them, job creation, training and vocational programs that are viable and ensure a difference in their lives and most of all they need mentors and role models that show there is another way of life. This is the only way we can ensure this sort of thing does not happen again on our streets and harmony across the classes of society is harboured. Otherwise we'll remain a ticking bomb not knowing the severity of the next explosion...
Saturday, August 6, 2011
one swordfish at a time
I was reading a story the other day about a young boy who saved swordfishes at his local beach. He would go every weekend and as the waves wash a million swordfishes ashore, he would pick up however many he can, one by one, and throw them back in the sea. A man who usually jogs around the beach at the same time as the boy saw the boy's actions on several occasions. One day the man stopped him and said "Young man, there are a million of them, don't you know it's impossible to save all of them?" The boy looked at the man, picked up another swordfish and threw it back in the sea. "I made a difference in that swordfish's life" he said and carried on.
Times like Ramadan really make you reflect on small actions that make a big difference. I'm sure that boy left an imprint in that man's mind. Although we can't rid the world of all its adversities, but we can make a difference in the areas we focus on. Somalia has been on my mind quite often as of late. The famine, although predictable, has nevertheless touched all that care about the people of Somalia and how they've been at the brunt of the worst humanitarian disaster of our modern times. So this Ramadan I fast as a humble, blessed human being. I pray for my motherland, its people and its children hoping my friends will pray with me and Allah is the giver of all things, may He accept our prayers.
Times like Ramadan really make you reflect on small actions that make a big difference. I'm sure that boy left an imprint in that man's mind. Although we can't rid the world of all its adversities, but we can make a difference in the areas we focus on. Somalia has been on my mind quite often as of late. The famine, although predictable, has nevertheless touched all that care about the people of Somalia and how they've been at the brunt of the worst humanitarian disaster of our modern times. So this Ramadan I fast as a humble, blessed human being. I pray for my motherland, its people and its children hoping my friends will pray with me and Allah is the giver of all things, may He accept our prayers.
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