Somaliland:The Child of The Stafe Yousuf Deyr

0

Dear reader, a long spell of illness is apt to point out your best friends.  A deaf husband and a blind wife are always a happy couple.  The mother’s heart is the child’s Class- Room.  Grandchildren are the interest paid on the original investment.  Some people like the present Regime of President Silanyo born to tread on the gum that other people chew.  Dear reader, I always admire Burao town and people with much delight.  Not simply because of it’s beautiful girls with natural beauty of rosy cheeks with a dimple on their cheeks, romantic eyes, curly hair, and white milky – teeth dinted with dots of light golden dye.  But partly because of it’s sitcom full of witty remarks, sense of humour and funny jokes that stands for a meaningful and impressive analogy.  They ask each other why Mr. X always  experiences financial difficulties and constantly suffers a Pocket – Disease?  The other answers.  Don’t you know that he keeps his crazy brother at home.  That is an irony that refers  to a husband that his wife has a chronic bad habit of chewing too much Jaat.  We must add that funny joke to our myths and legendary tales.

Dear reader, the Arm – Readers and fortune tellers in the Oval – Office of Mr. Silanyo announced recently a Psychic – Revelation that confirms concrete facts.  We have been tipped privately by an insider in the Oval – Office that the destiny and fate of Mr.Silanyo is trembling on the balance. The planets and other cosmic influence is doing extra – ordinary things in this year.  There will be thirteen moons instead of twelve moons.  As Mr. Silanyo’s Horoscope at birth is Cancer.  The Stars will create certain negative influence  on the chart of his Luck – Star.   Thanks to this Planetary – Configuration of a dramatic change.   As it reveals and interprets that the days of the present Regime is numbered.   Destiny has decided to take back the unfair gift that Fate had ordained for Mr. Silanyo during the past few years; and will give it back to the meritorious personalities, who deserves the gift.  In few months time, Mr. Silanyo will be a distant memory and will be put in the oblivion – Shelf.   A Good – Omen is on the horizon  and everything good we always wished, will follow one after another.

That is why nowadays he is worried a lot because he couldn’t find somebody reliable to bequeath his Empire and gift of clairvoyance as well as his deep secrets of his clandestine – marriage and hidden – Contracts.  Even his man – made Idols of sweet pastry and dates, his Spoiled young nephew Xirsi – Gaab has deserted him.  Hersi – Gaab, who have seen an electric light bulb in 1974 for the first time and now he is a  forty years young man with an asset of forty million dollars.  Plus Mr. Husein Ahmed Aided, our own Napoleon of the Civil – War of Somaliland that occurred among family and friends.  Who had received the Bravery – Medal, Precisely for destroying the house of the brother of his mother where he was raised and grew up,  during his Schooling and childhood era.  Mohamed Yonis Bihi, the Diplomat who contributed nothing with the exception of Shopping – Trips during his presence in the Foreign Affairs office.  What a poor and a lonely man is Mr. Silanyo in nowadays!   That is why he and his top – Aids sings and dances while their eyes are shut.  After he had discovered  that  his false dream was in vain and  resulted nothing but ash and dust.  His wrong belief of assuming that we are all vulnerable to his long snail of Slow – Death.   His false conception of believing that without him; no morning wears on, and no Sun will chew off the gloom.   He believed that without him, mist and fog will obliterate the future shores of Somaliland.  Threatening us  all with slow motion death..  Let us give him the OK signal and he will grab the Sun with one hand, and the moon with the other, and place it on his lap.  While an Index – Finger points to his Police State that trails only the innocent civilians.   Mr. Silanyo, save  your penny for a rainy day.   Mr. Money – Maniac, hold the Dime so near your eye, so that you can see the Dollar.  After you fling; watch out for the sting.  Your Confrontational  –  Gates are always open.   Chairman Abdirahman of the Wadani Party, watch out;  all that glitters are not gold.   These black sheep new arrivals from the Kulmiye Party are the rotten apples that has stained the reputation of the Kulmiye Party and they have nothing new in their empty pockets.   Besides that,  fairness is the flower of justices.   Owing that, I beg you in a voice that can’t be ignored to burn the candle at both ends inorder to bring him  back to your Camp,  Mr. Ahmed Mumin Seed, by hook or by crook.

Dear reader,  on October instant while I was strolling around downtown  Hargeisa, eye shopping without bearing in mind any particular item to buy.  Unexpectedly I was intercepted by a young man approximately in his thirtieth.  A walking – stick that you can read and detect from his sleepless reddish eyes and dry lips.  The heavy burden and gravity, signs and traits of fatigue, depression, and stress that enveloped in his heart.  He asked me in a dying voice but in a gentle manner; if my name is Yusuf Deyr.  First I hesitated answering him with a murmuring tone.  Then my mind reminded me involuntarily that I am not in Canada where you are not supposed to answer strangers.  But I am in Hargeisa dwelling among a nomadic open society that you can chat with anybody without knowing him in person, whenever is necessary.  Hence, I replied him with a gesture of nodding my head saying.  That is what they call me.

After that, he introducing himself to me by announcing his name as Ahmed Rashid Keyse, one of the SNM deserted orphans.  I recognized his deceased father after he told me his name.  I bent and bowed to him as a sign of respect and shook hands with him.   Then he requested politely If I could spare some minutes in order to chat with him for a while.   To express his present situation, and his impression and political point of view to the political – hiccups of Mr. Silanyyo.   But I am neither a member of Parliament nor a politician, I replied.  I know, I know, he responded.   But I would rather appreciate if I could get somebody to listen and that would share me my heavy burden of grief and frustration as a window for relief, he answered..   pointed to two empty chairs in a small country Tea – Shop. Here he started to recite a poem in a paper that he was holding in his shaking hand; after I apologised for not having my reading glasses.  Throwing his body and soul whole heartedly into his wonderful  master – piece related to the eulogy of his deceased father.  It is impossible for me to reword as a paraphrase to his impressive and touching words to reflect to the reader his true feelings and sincere emotions.  Started saying, after my father and bigger brother had been tortured and killed by the ruthless regime of Siyad Bare at our backyard, in the presence of my helpless mother.  My mother suffered a complete mental breakdown PTSD ( Post Traumatic Stress Disorder ).  Followed by throwing my mother in a Mental – Hospital by the SNS.  He continued saying, one day while I was visiting my mother at the Mental – Hospital; she couldn’t recognize me.  I can’t describe my situation at that occasion and how sad I had felt in that moment.   imagine !  The woman that had brought me on this earth – planet, who nursed me, breastfed me, advised me, brought me up, loved me, my mentor and my shelter and Think – Tank; couldn’t recognize me.  I was watching her helplessly, while my anchor, Tall – Tree and School of wisdom was vanishing, dying and melting like a Candle in front of me.  In that moment I hated every drop of blood in me.  Since then; I became a Child of the State.  Having no father, no mother, no brother, no sister and not even a menial job to survive.   Having not even a desolate Shack as a Shelter against the chilly winter and the burning Sun – Heat. Using the ground as a mattress and the sky as a blanket.  Just a bowl of dry rice full of dust and sand, once in a blue – moon; was my daily meal.  Just lonely and alone like a dropped Leave – Tree that was cut out of the main tree.  While Mr. Silanyo and his Top – Aids dinning on the moon and swimming in the Sky – River.  Wearing a dark suit with a white flower lapelled in it’s right top small pocket.  Buying Stock – Shares  and turning from millionaires into billionaires.  Nobody loves me and I love nobody in this wild World of Mr. Silanyo;  that swallows more than they can chew.  Being just a number in the Statics – Books of Mr. Silanyo.  No more a Human Being.  The poor helpless orphan ended with his painful and touching speech. He really meant what he was saying.

Dear reader, Mr.. Malcolm . X said, Negroes had been trained to dissemble their real thoughts, as a matter of survival.  The Negroes only tell the White Man what they believed that the White Man wishes to hear.  The Art of dissembling reached a point  where even a Negro can’t truthfully say that he understands what his fellows Negroes was based on a thorough understanding of the White Man’s mood and wishes.  While the Negroes remained a closed book to the White Man, who has never displayed any interest in the Negroes  needs and wishes.  In the same circumstances , Mr. Silanyo and his Top – Aids never tried to understand the where about and circumstances  of thousands of deserted orphans of the SNM deceased Heroes.   Mr. Silanyo, if you look at our streets with the passionate – eye, you will see amputees crawling or jumping and hoping with one leg.   But it isn’t your fault; it is the fault of the Somalilanders who had bet on the wrong horse.  The present regime felt threatened by the SNM survivals like the Madasha and their fans.  And has began to consider the SNM survivals as an evil incarnate who had doubted much about the authenticity of Silanyo’s Version of entity as a Sovereign State. Labelling them as unwanted trash elements that must be muted and silenced to death.  Mr. Silanyo, amazing indeed how money and power corrupts and blinds people. Mr. Silanyo has forgotten that yesterday he was one of us.  That is why this Regime is  funnelling bad stories about the SNM and shaping them as an evil of dismay and friction.  But bear in mind that the SNM Cadre and the UFFO Bureau like Dr, Tani and  Ahmed Jabane are the uncompromising Champion of our Nascent Revolution, Resurrection as a result of our present delight, peace and tranquility.  Dear reader, a man may have a thousand eyes, yet if his mind is blank full of jealousy, he can’t see anything at all.  Those unique men and role – models as freedom fighters, with iron – guts and noble bravery, who freed us from the shackles of Slavery and Humiliation, masses – murder and painful torture and detentions.  Who  are now being put on the oblivion – shelf and wrongly despised by this meritless Regime of Mr.Silanyo.  Dear country men, let everyone knows whether he wishes us good or ill that the UFFO Bureau and the SNM Cadre are the genuine emblem and the true Icon of Somaliland, and their credibility can’t be negotiated with no one.  Mr. Silanyo, we know that you have a right hand, a left hand and a little hand behind your back called the Traditional Leaders without moustaches.

Mr. Silanyo, thank you for being totally ugly.

The three piece Suit is yours and the shame is ours.

Your side of the road is always dusty.  Thank you for thinking of me.

Yusuf Deyr,

 

Comments

comments

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.