A great impire once thrived, and a great leader reached the door steps of the old continent to set camp for a new era.
The majestic mosques and the beauty of the architecture of the ancient city with two sides of space, two sides of time and two sides past, present and possibly future.
All the deeds of a 21 year old young man, a rare breed and a genetic pride of his ancestors that ruled the highlands on horsebacks and fur garments.
I carry his name, but not even fit to carry his shoe, let alone the sword that he fought with.
Praying in the most ancient worship place in all of the city, I was feeling the spirits of all of those who prayed here before me, regardless of their faith…
It was only right that the young ruler should die at 49, because such a legacy had to end to be renowned so quickly… to be prophesied a century earlier, and celebrated half a century later.
That kind of brilliance always comes with envy, and as such, negative energy and the evil eye stares at success to demean and supress it.
He was a guys with a simple countryside upbringing, an ambitious child of the periphery that made it big in the city.
He was the best in his batch, earned more money than most of his teachers as soon as he graduated. and was simply a reliable doctor. He loved everything good, he bought the best clothes and had the latest technology at his fingertips, he just loved discovering the world.
Generous to everyone. took care of others and took me under his wing when I was away in a city I knew nothing of and knew nobody from. He literally fed and sheltered us. I was fortunate enough to repay that debt later.
But like every other story goes, there was a darker side to the story, for a man can not exist with out his vices… his were deadly.
And like every other story in the book, his story involved work stress, family stress and of course… a girl. He went tumbling down the rabbit hole, though I was fooled for a minute that he has taken a different path.
Specific stories are mine and those close to him worthy of such stories. I have a lot of them, but to tell you the truth… I’m at a point in life where I’m really tired of writing about dead friends. Tired of having too many of them.
May God Bless and Forgive.
One day I will tell the greatest eulogy ever told of you.
A couple of friends wanted to go out today for fun in a boat ride, I couldn’t go because I was feeling a bit under the weather.
Back in the motherland, the streets of rage were back to their long ongoing struggle after a hiatus of 5 years, during which I became an expat and no longer hold the honor of carrying the emblem of the fighting class.
Every social media post I read just hurts, inevitable death and destruction seemed to be both logical and foreseen. I called family and friends to ask for the news, But I really called because I wanted to tell them I wish I could be there with you, it didn’t seem right to me to miss this chapter. I wanted to contact my cell mates from September 2013 and ask what role they played in this beautiful melody, I wanted to know if the cause still lives… I did not do any of that, I just settled for updates.
I’m laying in bed feeling weak and helpless, staring at a rag on the wall and saying to it if I can’t be there, I’ll put a picture of you here. Maybe destiny wanted me sit this one out.
I am not sick. I am ashamed. Ashamed to be out pretending to have fun while my blood is being slaughtered back home. I-am-ashamed!
Young, gullible and assured! The triad of every teenager that just found a cause to fight for. Rage, the holy water to fight the witches…to defeat evil.
“If you don’t stand for something, you’ll fall for anything”… mind you the quotation marks.
But causes don’t just exist sporadically, they are made by people for people, saving people from other people.
Interests change! according to different factors, most importantly: who is there to see you fight.
But you have to fight sometimes, for yourself, to keep yourself alive to preserve your sense of self.
I still believe in the cause, I just stopped believing in people.
For this life I live, with all its times and tribulations, I’m thankful. For every precious breath I breathe, for all the simplicity and complications it offered, for all the harsh beautiful lessons, I’m thankful.
To this planet that showed me both its belle and ugly sides, for every mountain, river, shore. For every different soil my feet touched and to the Nile, desert and jungle I hail from with every bit of its harsh nature, I’m truly thankful.
For many friends that I have that bare up with me, for many friends I had that put a smile on my face upon their memory, for the buried but never forgotten and for those that don’t know me but helped me through without knowing, I’m thankful.
For family who did their best and raised me right. For family that keep me connected to roots a for ancestors that gave me both cursed and blessed genes, I’m thankful.
For myself that endured a lot with me, and for being so patient with my harshness, I’m thankful.
For God Almighty, the First, Last and everything in between, Who’s been merciful and kind to me, and for never forsaking me…
I am thankful.
I always knew that one day I’m going to meet her and she’s going to make the rest of my days better.
Well, last night I did. I had the most wonderful visit anyone can hope for. I don’t know how it happened but coincidence is a charm sometimes. I was so sad and worried about something or another thing and she just came from a far to calm me down, like she saw the pain in me and couldn’t just watch anymore. She stepped up and took me away from all the people surrounding me and soothed me with kind words and comfort, I don’t remember her exact words but I don’t care because they were effective enough.
It was a dark humid summer night and we were somewhere by the shores, many of us, just out to relax on a weekend, everyone was wearing dark colors, including her.
She looked exactly like her pictures, and that’s hard to come by these days. Lean, dark and easy on the eyes, she seemed a bit taller than I expected.
I haven’t felt this happy for a really long time, especially in this place where I met her. She told the greatest comfort testimony on this side of the mirage. With a light hug and a pad on the back and suddenly everything was alright.
The human touch is important. No matter what they tell you about only needing yourself, don’t listen to them, they lie… you just need a good combination of both human and touch. You can not live alone, you can only cope and survive.
Before I tried to look in her eyes to see her features well and thank her, the alarm went off, we need to go make a living it said, stop dreaming.
What if I hit the snooze button? Will that help keep the dream alive for a bit more?
I never gave her a name yet, she has a name… but not one I’ve given her, I’m working on that.
What if, just what if… I call her and tell her all about our meeting?
My younger brother’s wedding is coming up and we are out tuxedo shopping, I’ve got a good stash so we’re going big with this one, visiting high class shops.
At Boggi Milano we found a tuxedo that costs 3,000 UDS, excluding the shirt and the bow tie, to put things in prospective, that is half of the money I used to renovate my Mother’s flat back home.
The mall was full of such expensive places, it was a hot day in Ramadan and people still filled the shops… cash was flowing and credit cards were flashing all over the place, my brother told me that these people are just killing time before iftar.
I found a fairly reasonable price watch that I really liked, but I was confused with the question of “Do I really need another watch?”, which was superseded by the question “Why are you making money in the first place if you’re not going to spend it?” Then I remembered what a 100$ would’ve done for my budget 8 month ago when I was struggling back home.
I’m enjoying spending my earnings and that feeling of joy is bringing me anxiety, if that makes any sense at all.
Brands and logos, custom made and limited editions… I will enjoy them, but will forever despise them and what they stand for, and one day I will free myself from them again…insha’Allah.
Do you think we bought the tuxedo or not?
Some african tribes have developed a smart way to capture monkeys… they carve a coconut making a hole small enough to fit the hand but not the fist of the creature, and then they put a fruit in there and tie the coconut to a tree. The monky will put its hand in, grab the fruit but he can’t get it out! The hunters quickly storm in and capture the greedy being and instead of letting go of the fruit to free its hand and save itself, it still tries to hold on.
I worked hard for what I’ve achieved and it did not come easy as much as I try to convince myself for the sake of humbleness. But still despite the best conditions that I’m currently living I always keep wondering about my own fruit. Strange feeling to a man who just, a couple months ago, was suffering to make ends meet.
Getting too comfortable was the exact thing I was trying to dodge through out my life. I was always a backpacker who was getting ready to abandon ship if it goes down… I’m settling in, and I’m not completely comfortable with it.
I’m dull and my brain isn’t functioning as it used to, I finally made it Ma! I’ve joined the herd.
The monkey wasn’t greedy. He had no other alternatives.
May Allah Bless Abdi Hassan
My Somali brother Who died in Mogadishu trying to help his people and himself… may you reach the Gardens and have everlasting peace, amen.
Brown Stallions & Small Cubes
To bring the idea striaght home, I am a predictable feller
Depth is relative and how deep or shallow you manifest your thoughts is only defined by the precipitation of the parties involved.
But what drives us to be so?
Why are we seeking it?
and how important is to be recognized by other?
Which types of individuals do we want them to recognize it?
Is it a true alteration or is it pure freudism?
How important is the role of approval in being deep?
And sarcastically speaking what is the role of caffeine and nicotine?
How vital is it to our existence?
And honestly does anyone really give a ****?
Where do looks fit in all of this?
What criteria is there to judge and rate?
I chose a small glass cube, a steel ladder, a brown wild stallion and pretty yellow flowers that the storm that’s on it’s way is going to spoil… and it had nothing to do with my precipction of things, although I did love the illustration!
And on another unrelated but not so far note: Global Warming is real!