For Gideon Chumo

Gideon Chumo has been my best friend ever since he came to Somalia. In fact, more than a friend, closer to a brother, for the difficult times we have gone through, exactly like family members would. I remember the first day, i guess on 3rd September 2005, when Chumo first stepped into Somali soil, through KM50 Airport,... Mogadishu and I was there to receive him, introduced and oriented him into a turbulent city (of warlords then), took him to Amira Hotel, and that's how he started his life in Somalia.
And until this day, Chumo hasn't left us, he's been nurturing young minds, teaching, inspiring and giving his service to our community, from Mogadishu Language Institute to Mogadishu University. Well done brother
Waa ku mahadsan tahay sxb dadaalkaaga iyo dulqaadka, dhibka aad nala qeybsatay. waxaan ku leenahay Ilaahay hakaa abaal mariyo
I am impressed by his writing, from a novel manuscript that I personally took to Bakara to be typed, to his poems and stories, Mash'Allah, I hope that one day you'll be published.
You can check his website, for more of his writing.
http://myroundsquare.blogspot.com/
http://abortedpoet.wordpress.com/

Written by: Ina Jowlow Jimcaale

My Cat

What difference between us?
I adore you my cat. I pity you.
You starve, you suffer,
Unnoticed even by the busy world.
Nor seem to care about your noble birth
Except the mice, you sup.
You are right in ignoring me.
Leaving the dog to worship me.

Am I your mistress in vain?
Or do I waste your talents?
If you feel so, it is natural.
And I know too, I’ve enslaved you,
For, I never share my clothes,
Reluctant to lay a table for you
Nor cuddle you in my bed.
I can’t provide you with all these
For I’m in need myself.

Don’t cry my cat. Don’t give up
We’ve underrated your dignified felinity
Many a times I’ve wished to be you
And you, me?
You’d have realized then
How difficult it is to afford me
How would you clothe me?
You are well disposed my cat.
Better off being my cat
For I am a cat; without a tail!


Gideon Chumo
Copyright ©2009

War meals

Editor's note: This poem is written by Gideon Chumo, teacher in Mogadishu University. He has been teaching English and literature in MU since 2006. It certainly takes a strong passion and love for teaching for anyone to have the courage to teach in a country like Somalia. We, at the Somalia-TNP, salute Mr. Chumo for educating our brothers and sisters back home. May Allah Ta'aal bless him immensely.

At breakfast
The children ate bullets
Fired from the mouths
Of their fathers...

At lunch
Time-bombs hidden
In the breasts
Of their mothers...

At supper
They licked blood
From the wounds of other children...
But, where is the milk?
They asked
And no one
Could answer.


Gideon Chumo
Copyright ©2008