The tale of two sisters:SKIA

KIA is an acronym for Somalia, Kenya, India and America
….Somalia….
Waking up with rainbows that decorating the beautiful sky,
In the land famously known as the Nation of Poets,
As I tipped topped to my mother’s room for my morning kiss,
I heard loud thunders of gun shots that would drastically change my life leaving me homeless for decades to come.
As the war of ignorance and hatred tore my people apart,
I bid farewell to the beauty and comfort that Somalia once possessed in hopes of finding a new shelter.
The strings of my heart will forever yearn for my homeland.

….Kenya…
We made it to a land where my Somalis are famously known as the infamous waryas.
Physically we are secured, mentality tortured with the continuous chants of wapi kipanda yako?
Failure in having this Identity card would result in police brutality…..
The only means to escape was bribery…
Oh my dear Africa, aren’t you exploited not only by the oppressor but also by the victim?
Oh my dear Kenya, I pray for your well-being and the end of the vultures that prey on your resources. On your beauty. On your kindness… Your acceptance of refugees of all ethnicities and religion is truly admired...Dear Kenya, you remain home only second to the land of my forefathers…..

…India….
They say it happens only in India…
Where the country has the ability to embrace you regardless of your color, religion and background...
We say It also happens in India where the dark ones are alienated and frowned upon..
Words like Kali and African ape are chanted as the National anthem of country…
You see skin color is what describes you in this great land…
The blacks are naturally inferiors in this society..
India is also the land where we spent our childhood and teen life…
We learned of family values and loving others unconditionally…
This land instilled the love of education in our hearts…
It taught us of being ambitious and striving for the best.
It taught us to be tolerant individuals…
It taught us to ignore the ignorant…
It taught us to appreciate our beautiful black skin!

…America….
The land of opportunities, the land of refugees, the land of gold, the land of this and that and that and this and the land of immigrants…We are here!
Compare to Somalia it’s relatively peaceful,
Compare to Kenya it’s relatively more accepting…
And compare to India this land lacks respect for its elders…
Our hearts shattered seeing elders strolling carts in super markets...
Where are the children so they could serve and care for their parents?
As a refugee you learn and appreciate a lot of things, we hope to never learn and appreciate this side of our new home.
Our dreams are finally being fulfilled here…
We are finally living the dream immigrants cherish and protect in their hearts.
Alhamdulilah, praise to Allah Ta’aal for this beautiful journey we have experienced....


*Glossary: wapi kipanda yako? Where is your kipanda? Kipanda is an indentity card that was introduced during the British colonist in Kenya to restrict the movement of the Kenyans. Ironically, the Kenyans use this as a means to restrict the movement of refugees in the country.

Kali: A derogatory term in Hindi meaning Black.

Halima and Fatima Ahmed
Copyright © 2010

The world I live in

I feel a steady unrest, growing stronger with everyday
From the time I wake to the night when my head I rest to lay

The laws of man, studied and searched to find truth, prejudice found in abundance instead
A society that sponsors a dog, but never offers the starving human a loaf of bread

A society where wrong is ordinary, and right is frowned on
Where the strong have pledged that the weak shall ever be preyed upon

A society where words are no longer spoken from the heart
But where the doctrine of deception is considered a fine art
I wonder if earth is similar today, in its ways as the start

Lovers no longer sincere, born from the same womb still doesn’t stop you for killing your brother
Willing and adamant to exploited you’re innocent sister

Quick to offer the victimised false sympathy
No need to look further then their eyes to see their words empty

Even I play my part in this corruption, ever flirting with taking what I must not
Persuading my soul that I can’t change anything, in this world I am but a single dot
Nothing special to find but another formed blood clot
Truth and wisdom, found when this form of thought I fought to stop

Things can never be changed from the heights of the top
Focus your efforts at the depths of the drop

Travelled a few destinations, privileged to have lived among a few different races
Each community bared the scares of hurt on the faces

Son of Adam only hope is to over come your greed
Tame the body; heed the soul and the mind you must feed

Mindless leaders, their sole objective is to blunder
Further destroying and dragging humanity under
To far gone to hear the cries of the people even if loud as thunder
Deserts grow in place of the green heavenly lands of Africa

I am young but nevertheless wise enough to know
To find peace now on earth, the peak of Everest, I should go

On the TV’s and radios, they shout we fight for freedom,
Politicians try Sweet words to cloak total oppression
Only but a few, the grand masters of this grand scale deception
Words in the past gave birth to mighty revolutions
I hold on to the hope one day these words would inspire a solution.

Hamza Egal
Copyright © 2009

Reigniting

Shifting through
Portals
Of love and lost.

I wake up for
Suhur
At the crack of dawn.

Anxious
To feed on
Heaps
Of nostalgia
Yearning for
What I knew was never mine.

Solemnly
I sat in silence.
With a dear, dear friend of mine.
Who never disappoints.

Praying
My love for him
Drowns out
All the nostalgic voices
Whispering my name
Like Jin in the night.

Quick to overindulge
In my love for him
I reigniting
My commitment to him.

Saying my declaration of faith
Uttered first in my mothers womb
Long before I had breath.

Ašhadu anna laa ilāha illa Allāh, wa ašhadu anna Muhammadan rasūlo Allāh.

Hayat Magan
Copyright © 2009

Dedication To the Prophet sallallahu alayhi wasallam

A lover of the heart you are,
In your eyes I see the reflection of love,
You are a beholder of a golden heart,
The lover of lovers.

Indeed you are the most kind hearted,
Most soft and tender,
You are a pillar of strength,
Speaks from the heart with words of sweetness,
You are indeed a prince to your beloved ones.

Inspiration you have been,
Spoken with wisdom and knowledge,
With words of honesty and generosity,
Compassion you were to the needy.

Even when life seemed doomed your faith was so strong,
Truly you are a lover of lovers and beloved by many,
Your honesty wept the hardest of hearts,
You brought happiness and joy to ones life,
Fulfilled an empty heart with love.

You have been an inspiration to this infant heart of mine,
You were the one who never turned from my failure
Reaching me when my heart no longer felt love,
Failed you many times and still you were first to believe in me.

Know this your words of wisdom I heard,
Know this I felt your pure love,
Know this truly your love and generosity has touched my heart,
I love you to an extend where love itself could not explain,
You are the in lighter of this infant heart of mine...

Many though they had the upper hand because of beautification belongs, multitudes of money or equipment; but it was rather due to the noble values you had that made you beautiful...

Ahmeddey M Hassan
Copyright © 2010

BANTUS

All are suffering in Somalia,
And Bantus are in danger,
They are victims of xenophobia,
As if they are not from there.

They are called "The People of the River!"
The name stands for racial discrimination!
No one marry from "The People of the River!"
On their dignity, that is a sheer humiliation!

Dark as they are in colour,
"Stinking black!" they are called!
Out of the blue, the phrase is faller!
Without resisting back, they are robbed!

In peace, pulling their wheelbarrows,
They are killed for no right of reason!
Others are lions and they are weak crows!
They are victims of all that falling stone!

In the heart of their homeland,
They are harassed and despised!
Without attention or helping hand,
They are marginalised and chased!

Shush! Humanity is dying!
And majority is maiming!
Minority is finishing!
And the poet is reporting!

Mohamed Abdikadir Daud (Stanza)
Copyright ©2010

My Kufi

My Kufi
You were not always Kufi
You started from baseball cap
In the colors of Detroit Tigers you came along
Albeit not a fan, but gorgeous you were
When the seasons shifted you changed your colors
In the months of cold, you gave me the warmth in the form of hat
You evolved in many fashions and customs: until you became part of me
My kufi, wherever I go, you accompany me
Brown, black, white and many colors do I have you
You are part of me, representing my inner truth of uniqueness
Raising the curiosity among strangers
Although some wear you as a tradition, I wear you as part of me
You never demand much from me, but my acceptance
No longer the cold season separates us, you are forever part of me

Sadiiq Ashuhle
Copyright © 2008

The tapestry of happiness

He lit up with happiness
The lines on his face explicitly painted his emotions…
His eyes sparkled with deep gratitude of love and respect…
He held her close and tight wanting to protect her and the life she carried in her womb..
They didn’t utter a word….
Yet their body communicated words only their hearts could conceive…
She remained amazed at how the tiny life she carried within her had the ability to make him cry…
He placed his hand on top of her stomach while chanting verses from Surah Maryam
She could sense how his hands were trembling and how the strong man she known was now lost for words…
He was thankful beyond mere words…
She has sewed the tapestry of happiness in their lives…
She was the source of his happiness from day one
But now she has completely won over his heart…
That night as she was sleeping he kept on staring at her radiant face
She has finally completed him..
Making them intertwine in a bond that will forever remain unbreakable….

Halima Ahmed
Copyright © 2010

tranquility

I dreamt serenity took over the world
Peace has finally invaded nations
Refugee kids were stamped with the pleasure of being citizens of the world…
I dreamt that Somalia has finally found peace within itself…
I dreamt that my people were finally united…
And, I dreamt of Somalis being oblivion to a thing called “tribe.”
I dreamt finally people were more than just being “Muslims.”
I dreamt people have finally found the true meaning of Islam…
I dreamt my heart was in an absolutely state of bliss…
I
Dreamt
Of
Peace
Submission
And
Islam.

~Halima Ahmed
Copyright © 2010

The Somali Orphan Boy

My name is Orphan Boy; I’m a Somali Orphan boy.
I’m lost and I don’t know where to go.
My father was killed trying to protect me.
His body received a dozen bullets that took his life.
His body lay on me so I could not move.
I could feel his warm blood running over my skinny bones.
I can only remember neighbours pulling me under my father’s corpse.
I breathe the smell of blood that gave no relief.

Knowing not the whereabouts of the rest of my family,
I run for my life.
Lost among crowds I did’t know.
Thousands lost like me with no guide
For many miles I ran, I rested my tired feet under a shade-less tree.
It was the permanent shelter of internally displaced persons (IDPs).
I sat there in grief for the years yet to come.
I can dream in peace and calm.
With dignity and pride at all.
Waiting for UN rations in queue,
A shame I always carry.
Every hour a soul departs from starvation.
Who is next -, is written on the already quiet faces.
My turn must be near as I count the time.

Nothing is sacred in Somalia; no life is spared for any presumed innocence.
Death is daily life; no one is surprised when it finds its victim.
Funerals are a daily ritual.
No one cares for loved ones any more.
Tears gone forever, frozen faces with sadness remain.
I don’t know, the reason they fight.
Everyday a new armed group emerges, and claims to be the right one.

The army of God is ‘on the march,’ they say now.
Who is fighting, who are they fighting?” I always ask.
Each death is a brother, sister, father or mother.
No noble man can rise after destroying his people.
Heaven never promised paradise to vengeance killers.
None of God’s laws dictate massacre of the innocents.
A preacher of good conscience never craves human blood.
But the measure of a man is being good leader.

That fateful day of December 3rd.
The graduation ceremony that was never completed.
The sound of a blast shattering the room.
Bones sticking out from broken limps, blood covering the walls.
Screaming nurses rushing to the scene to save those still alive.
Separated from their owners, shoes, watches and jewelry lay around.
Legs and arms separated from graduating students lay around.
Among the dead was the fine professor from America.
People knew him as ‘Professor Addow, the revered one.’
He lay down in a pool of blood.
His white cloth in red and blue.
What a woeful ending for someone who sacrificed so much.
Those who perished with him had compassionate hearts too.
Leaving their adopted homelands to heal the sick.
Good learned men, women and their students gave their lives.
Their efforts gone for ever to no avail.

Carrying the sorrow and guilt of failing to protect my beloved father.
Vengeance is in my head, though my heart hates to see anyone to die.
Sometimes I dream of joining the ranks of Somali pirates.
Raising the Jolly Roger to earn respect and fame.
Getting the ransom and building my own castle along the beach.
Choosing my future bride from the beautiful Somali girls.

I even thought of joining the famous Al-Shabab group.
To be a popular boy who can whip people and cut off hands as I chose.
But then I said “the life of pirates carries a high price indeed.”
I still see the bullet holes of my father’s scalp; death is forever with no return.
Joining gangs and pirates won’t get me ahead.
I just want to be a boy, to go to school.
I do not want see people killed or myself being killed.

I carry a tormented soul of lost hope.
I soothe my pain with nostalgia I never knew.
Good memories never existed in my failed nation.
“The hope of the land is the youth,” as they say.
But I see young men who have gone wild.
Bazookas and Kalashnikovs ready to kill.
Bows and sharpened arrows on their broken backs.
Not understanding why they have to fight and to kill.

They claim they took up arms to fight oppression.
Yet tyranny is what they have embraced.
Whipping an old man’s back, should bring them shame?
Unearthing the bones of century- old saints
The secrets of the dead will tell their tales.

Instilling fear into weak hearts will never bring trust.
I want to know what is in their minds, why anyone enjoys spilling blood.
Embracing shame, with honor as their permanent foe.
Who do they want to defeat?
Nothing can enable me to rejoice in a victory.
The world’s appeal for peace fell on deaf ears,
I pray to the Almighty to see no more blood.
Lay down all arms and seek peace
No trouble - I seek no more
Clothe me now that I am naked.
Give me shelter now I am homeless.
Feed me now I am hungry,
Heal my soul now I am sick.

Don’t cut my legs and let me walk.
Don’t chop off my hands so I can earn living.
I want to shake your hand and call you “brother”.
Inspire me with kindness and compassion.
Put away the bloody sword.
I am only an orphan boy,
A captive bird trapped in a cage of fear
Set me free so I can fly
Fly to taste the sweetness of freedom for us all.

Farah M. Mohamed
Copyright ©2010

My sons

Every one has a priceless treasure, whether they know it or not
The day you entered my life, my heart I thought would stop

The joy you came with that day will always be running through me
My love for you will always be limitless, As long as time and I continue to be

I swear to raise you with courage and intelligence so you grow to learn true honesty
The almighty alone can guarantee your safety; through me he will give you security

My wish is to mould you into a strong and righteous character
So you may live your life full of happiness no matter the weather

Respect and draw good sense and knowledge from those older
Earn and share what Allah gives you, remember and care for your neighbour

Never bring tears or anguish to the jewel you call your mother
Your tongue tame, a word to open a wound inside her, speak it never

She was your chosen passage to earth; surely she will play a part in your passage to heaven
Move not only with your feet; open your mind and eyes so all you take in is balanced and even

My only fear is for your innocence to be shattered by corruption
Allah is the only way one can over come the evils of temptation

So hold on steadfast to you’re prophet’s (peace be upon him) guided belief
Islam the true and only protector from all evil and grief

Remember to forgive, as you will surely learn the weight it releases
Be content with what Allah gives you, no matter if sometimes small pieces

And before your head at night you put to lay, thank him for the blessings of the day and ask for evil to be kept at bay
No matter what ever you do, five times a day young man you must pray
Remember my words today, so to my grandsons one day these same words you will say

Hamza Egal
Copyright © 2007

Abominable Indignation

Allow me to vent my over whelming frustration
It is not easy when surrounded by oppression
When peace is not the topic of discussion
And the problem is not only your religion
Best answer to all questions is your extinction
As governments no nothing of consideration
When as soon as they sit on that seat
They sever the human connection
No matter how much I stand and speak
My words only bring a slight agitation
And if I get to loud well…extraordinary rendition
Some say the third Great War is forth coming
I say if you believe so then in your heart something is missing
All over the globe skirmishes and wars have been long brewing
While we sit back and let governments force us into submission
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see the worsening situation
Its not even humans that kill no more but drones on a mission
Drop bombs on the innocent and targets alike without the hint of compassion
The young, the old, ancient infrastructures or just the village plantation
There’s more then one way to skin a cat, enough of the ammunition
Time to cut costs but we can still kill just by inducing starvation
All this under the pretence of allied national security
Don’t forget to mention to the public, we are still searching for a made up enemy

Hamza Egal
Copyright © 2007

Life Lived a Lie

Life lived a lie

How does it feel to have lived a lie

Still seeking for the truth till the day that i die

The people in control are neither you or I

Our so called leaders worship the ''all seeing'' eye

Countries all lined together , UN the bullshit commity

Makin us believe were in charge of our city

Such a pity

This poem is for the open minded and witty

There's a secret society beyond our knowledge

They control everything from the newspaper to your local college

Communism,Liberalism,Socialism they all crumble

When its crazy to be humble

Open your eyes and u might stumble

Stumble upon the truth

Cuz the truth aint cute

We dont know squat about the world and the system

The system made to control our minds and our opinion

Made to destroy all form of opposition

There's no such thing as freedom of speech

These hypocrites dont seem practice what they preach

History is wrong and everything our school system is made out to teach

Everything we have been taught since birth

Is one big scam , so tell me what this world is worth

13 families runnin the course of the economy

It aint hard to tell its just like simple geometry

They changed the map and call it geography

Little kids cartoons like Disney filled with hidden pornography

It's all carefully planned and executed

This has been going on for centuries and is deeply rooted

Killing everyone whose a threat from 2pac to John F Kennedy

A disease of the mind and knowledge is the remedy

Aiming towards a new world order

This stuff is real its comin in through the border

Millions of people sent to their slaughter

De globalization

Fuck a Freemason

And these Zionist Jews

Controlling these puppets and the news..

Dont bite of more than u can chew

The system only favors a few..

Ismail Mopreme
Copyright © 2010

Ethiopian Maids in Plight!

Many a maid suffers in the world!
Without mercy and pixel of reward!
Loot at our suffering Ethiopian sisters!
At the hands of their Asian employers!

From their homeland hunger forced them to leave,
In a foreign country under hardship to live,
With their African talent and womanhood,
In search of a better life and food;

Working from dawn to the dusk!
Doing that bone-breaking a task!
Without respect and little pay!
Living under stress and dismay!

After all those long years of a work!
Some are kicked out without a fork!
Tear from their eyes is forced to spew!
Without getting any prop to subdue!

In midnight I hear their cry!
Coming far, far from the sky!
As they are deep in emasculation!
And longing for my poetic emancipation!

Violated are their rights!
Broken are their hearts!
Mortified are their names!
Dirtified are their aims!

How many of them are abused!
How many of them are raped!
How many of them are enslaved!
How many of them are killed!

In the name of humanity I am shading light,
On the situation of the Ethiopian maids in plight!
Speaking for them with my morality and might,
Protesting against the violation of their right!

Wonder not at I from the burning Somalia,
Advocating for the maids from Ethiopia,
While our countries are at historical war,
Because of Ogaden region in row

As a poet armed with humanity,
On my shoulders is responsibility,
I love Africa with its all walks of life,
And I am proud of its botanical hive;

I am telling the oppressors,
That the maids are mothers;
They are part of us and sisters,
They are with us forever in human shelters.

Mohamed Abdikadir Daud (Stanza)
Copyright ©2010

Beautification Of The Heart (words of wisdom)

“O Allah, as you have made my appearance beautiful, likewise make my character beautiful.”

An idiot once told me, “Life is beautiful and what it contains can poison you at times, but it falls upon you to make out of those elements which contain the beautification of life.” Who would take a word of an idiot truthful, but only to realise one day it is true.

Beautification Of The Heart...
Many moments have come throughout life and many moments shall remain in the heart of the beholder. Some moments vanish with a blink of an eye and other moments remain in the heart forever almost like a treasure that beautifies all.

One builds a foundation of appearance within them to a degree of extremism. We see, yet sadly we forget how to build a strong bond of foundation within our hearts, your beautified features that complete your perfectly symmetrical face will eventually fade away like the dust blows the wind, but your heart will always remain the same and beat the same.

Truly beauty can be attained from within the heart of the beholder,
All the other beauties are just a worldly glimpse of beauty,
Only a true believer in Allah can understands beauty fully:
Beauty is the garden of paradise and its beauty can only be understood from its inhabitants, Beautiful is being content with what you have,
Indeed beauty was prophet (saw), beautiful are his followers

“The beholder of true beauty is he who puts his trust in Allah the almighty.”

As Muslims, we must believe that evil and imperfection cannot be attributed to Allah. The desire to change any aspect of ourselves means, in effect, that we are dissatisfied with Allah's choice and his handwork, and that there is imperfection in what he has created. Thus to say about ourselves or anyone else that we or they are ugly is a great sin.

This point was reinforced by the Prophet, (pbuh) when he once saw the Companion, Amr ibn Fulaan al-Ansaaree (ra), whose izaar (lower garment) was hanging low to the ground, so he, prophet (pbuh), ordered that he raise it. Amr made an excuse saying that he had skinny shins (i.e. he was embarrassed to show them), so the Prophet responded by saying: "O 'Amr! Verily Allah - the Mighty and the Majestic - has created everything in the best form. The desire to change any aspect of ourselves means, in effect, that we are dissatisfied with Allah's choice and his handwork, and that there is imperfection in what he has created. Thus to say about ourselves or anyone else that we or they are ugly is a great sin.

We must bear in mind that this search for the 'beautification' is, in reality, a deception from Shaitaan. Shaitaan has vowed that he will create such false desires in mankind. He has said (as stated in the Qur'an): "Surely I will arouse in them [mankind] false desires; and certainly I will order them to slit the ears of cattle, and indeed I will order them to change the nature created by Allah." [Soorah an-Nisaa’ (4):119].

"May Allah always keep us safe from the false promises of Shaitaan, for Verily
He is the One who guides to the Truth."

Ahmeddey M Hassan
Copyright © 2010

That Day

Editor's note: Sahnun Mohamud, 17 year old, is the co-founder of WakeUpSomalia. The mission of this noble cause is to sew the tapestry of EDUCATION by building public schools in Somalia. I am absolutely certain that young Somalis like Sahnun will be among the leaders our country will benefit from. Check out the facebook page for WakeUpSomalia: http://www.facebook.com/pages/WakeUpSomalia/113713983720?ref=nf


My eyes, slowly flickering through the summer blazing sun
My mouth, dry as the sand, of water here there’s none
I wake again, a gift, cherished by but a few
Sometimes I sit and wonder, if only you truly knew
I step out of my quarters, made of branches, a tiny bit of mud
I look for beauty, but in this town, even the flowers-dare not bud
I run to the field, it’s time for soccer, maybe a chance to play
Suddenly came the aid trucks, oh no! The camp’s now in a fray
I ran to my quiet spot, to escape, for peace
Unfortunately there was a serpent; on it was written “qabil”
Before I fled, I noticed it was guarding a light blue box
It had a white star in the middle, though nearly covered in locks
My camp recently went through a severe starvation
The question I ask myself is how did this serpent survive that deprivation?
The answer soon became clear; his food wasn’t water, milk, nor bread
Instead he ate ignorance, chewed racism, I warn you, this snake won’t shed
I couldn’t stand it anymore; before I could get poisoned.. I ran
Back to my hut, no brothers, no sisters, no parents.. Just desert sand
As I lay for a while, staring at my hay covered roof I thought to myself
What could I do with a home, a family, a future and good health?
Well I know Somalia has issues, some large, and some small
But dividing ourselves is surely! Our greatest pitfall!
As a combined people there is no doubt we can slay the serpent
We can take back our country, unlock the chains, please sound the trumpets!
As for me, I’m 18, born and raised in a Kenyan Refugee camp
I don’t know anything more than the camp life I lead.. Life here is hard; faith is strong, emotions mostly damp
I have nothing now, no possessions, no family, no place to call “home”
But I keep a clear vision in mind, a peaceful Somalia, no hatred, a place I can freely roam
It’s true; I have a vision though I’m surrounded by nothing
It’s how I keep hope, get out of bed, and dream about helping
I know in my heart that Somalia will be rebuilt someday, a boomtown, and a safe haven
How long it takes depends on Somali’s from all walks of life, both rich and poverty stricken
One thing I know for sure is, when that Day comes, that Hour, that Minute that Second.. comes
I will be among the Somali’s who can look in the mirror, smile, look out at a new country, so emotional that my smile will numb.
What will you do, that day?


Sahnun Mohamud
Copyright © 2010

The Essence of Time

The Essence of Time:
A lost opportunity is yesterday
Tomorrow is fortune to have
Opportunities die and reborn daily
Today new opportunities do I have
Gone are the days of baseless spending
No more do I wait…to kill time
Time is essence of me
My heart beats... in time
I breathe...in time
Born I am... in time
Rejuvenate I am... in time
Older do I grow... in time
Ticking sound... do I have left
No more do I lose sight... from my time
Welcome 'today' I do... with full action
Today might be the only day left... in my time

Sadiiq Ashuhle
Copyright © 2008

African Grief

Oh Mama Africa, why do you forsake me?
Years ago I escaped from the wrath of war,
Not blaming you, but still under your eyeful watch.
Open wounds and wasted souls that I saw
Relentless fear persuaded me to flee.
Not knowing where to go, I hastened to follow the crowd.
Dodging bullets and bazookas,
I rested my bones on a land far away,
Picking up the pieces of what I have lost.
I called America my new home,
Yearning for freedom to breathe free
I embraced the peace I never knew,
Yet, the pain and the horrors I ran from yesterday
Followed me thousands of miles
Far from the suffering of your people.
This kept me awake, with heaving sighs,
I roll and toss and cannot sleep.
Every where I look, I am dismayed and disgusted.
The screams of young virgins raped,
Mass killings and scattered bodies everywhere.
The smell of burning homes and sight of spilled blood.
Starving babies suckling their dead mothers’ breasts;
Their worn- out tiny bodies inflicting more pain on me.
Hungry vultures feasting on fleshless bones,
Hollow faces absent of human shape
Losing my sanity, losing my mind, I thought.

Oh Mama Africa, why do you forsake me?
Your abundant wealth never reaches those in need.
You are so rich yet your children die in poverty and starvation.
There is sorrow in your eyes, hopelessly trying to heal the sick with your magic gaze.
I feel your pain, the ravages of war inflicted upon you.
Those you have raised have brought you shame;
Beautiful cities become ashes and dust,
The plentiful land I knew is gone and dry.
I see no life trace any where,
Peace I once knew I know no more.
Deliver me from despair and show me hope.
Raise your righteous sword and show your bravery once again.
Save us from warlords, gangsters, dictators and thieves,
Break down the prison gates and free your sons and daughters from the chains of oppression,
Smash this modern slavery your people must endure.

Oh Mama Africa, why do you forsake me?
Show your pride and toss away the veil of shame.
Walk gracefully and proudly among the nations as before.
Hold up your head and show your dignity once again
Give your old drums a new beat and show me your old moves
Dance like a free bird and don’t be shy
Shake your giant mountains and shout across your mighty land for peace and justice.

Oh Mama Africa, why do you forsake me?
My youth was taken away,
I lost the glory of yester year; no more is there a bright future.
Who can heal the agony and the pain I feel inside?
Home is where the heart and my dreams are.
I sit far away at Baltimore Harbor to watch ships roll away.
I never sought to cross the salty Atlantic, but fate spares no one
I want my soul to fly away to see you one more time,
I gaze down in deep solitude, dreaming of your giant hug when I arrive home.

Oh Mama Africa why do you forsake me?
I miss your blue sky and tropical sunshine,
Roaring oceans and tumbling rivers.
Thirsty for your fresh spring waters that roar from your giant belly.
My soul yearns for your mystic spirit.
Show me your magic smile and take my sadness away.
Touch me with your kind hands and take my pain away,
Wipe away my tears with your gentle hands
Let me dance and give us all hope.

Farah M. Mohamed
Copyright ©2009

WHY DO I HAVE TO LIVE WITH WAR?

I was born, my country at war!
Grew up in conflicting pro...!
Worst coming still is more!
Why do I have to live with war?

Look the merciless maw!
Alas! The mind is raw!
Floating on terrorist yaw!
Why do I have to live with war?

Brain-washed are the national bough!
Misled are the youth you know!
In dark today and now!
Why do I have to live with war?

Phew! They are in row!
Towards death of wow!
No light and door!
Why do I have to live in war?

From paw to paw!
Their life is low!
Between jaw and jaw!
Why do I have to live with war?

Ordered is boy to blow!
Killing lots and how!
Including goat and cow!
Why do I have to live with war?

Showering with blood is Mogadishu!
Danger-zone is Kismaio!
Parturient is Galka'o!
Why do I have to live with war?

Goodbye I say to war!
Then I hear the roar!
Making me see what I saw!
Why do I have to live with war?

STOP teaching the grammar of war!
Needed is peace and law!
PLEASE learn how and know!
Why do I have to live with war?

Mohamed Abdikadir Daud (Stanza)
Copyright ©2010

Tears from the Sky

Skies darken through darkness; clouds come to oversee - a self destructive mankind fueling famine and disease.
Masses in murder, Nations falling to their knees. If this world spoke words it would be screaming 'please'...
Steady pain and sorrow tears shed for tomorrow, to water the hearts of men, so hollow.
Thirst never quenched, dry our hearts stay… So I wonder why it doesn’t rain every day?
Amongst the clearest of eyes, perfect in disguise, for all we see a mere clouds in the sky...
Drops from above, fall as rain, the sorrowed clouds oversee our pain… All this beauty we receive, yet take in vain, sane or insane - chose your name…
Although calls are heard through the ears of one’s soul, turn away we’d rather foolishly awaiting the toll.
And though the tears bring life, and flourish the land… the reverse in equal they hold at hand.
The calm before a storm leaves all still and weary, an unnerving silence as skies become teary… Shadowing the earth & all they see none can hide the men they be… ‘Wait’.
The seas begin to rumble, blood begins to burn, A fearless wrath which none can overturn, through the fear our hearts yearn as we begin to tear…. Await we must for the inevitable is near.
But sadly our tears will remain unheard for their calls and tears were left unheard. It may sound absurd, but as the truth it stands… subtle tears ignored and now nowhere to stand?
Strikes of lighting as the rage intensifies; fury of the earth begins to multiply.
Whirling winds destroying all in path, fires for days burning tree’s to the last.
Fumes rise from the anger, sleeping giants erupt, and the quietest of statues awake to destruct.
And through the destruction a warning we take, the earth isn’t ours for us to re-create. Through the death and destruction we must contemplate… Redesign as beings, re-determine our fate!


Xaamud Aden
Copyright © 2009

l Am...What I am

I am…What I am
Simplicity is my way
I yearn tranquility upon my heart
Peace is what I wish for
Hope is what I dream of
Justice is what I seek
Humbleness is my dealing
Who am I... is what I am: an individual striving
Traveling in the path of an unsorted road
Maneuvering in this curvy road of life
Each step doom or glory awaits
Patience is my light
My experience shapes me in this road…to make it through another day


Sadiiq Ashuhle
Copyright © 2008

Silent Soldier

I never asked you, how or why
those were questions, I feared.
Silent Soldier

You never seemed to want to know more,
those were the answers you feared.
And when these emotions bypassed us,
we simply went astray, as if the sea, never met the sky.

So here I am, vivid, and clear
Wise and tall, like the hundred years Oak tree
that stand and witness to all actions, reactions, and moments.
Listening to the brisk sounds of your hearts dismay
Wondering, if you would say, your heart’s content,
Or merely wash away, into vastness,
Never to be seen, again.

It is you, who can, or May
it is I, who sees, and never says
for I never asked you,
And you, never wanted to know.

I am a silent Soldier!

Fatima J
Copyright © 2010

All men are created equal

All men are created equal and free
To live and swim in the river of life
A god given right, lighting the waterfall of spiritual knowledge
Which cleanses and gives life to the essence of real morality
And through the sands of time buries deep the roots of evil
Emancipation from ignorance and a good moral compass must rule over evil
Without either, our world becomes plunged into the greatest depths of darkness
Spinning uncontrollably in an abyss of hatred, greed and mass oppression


All men are created equal and free
However, as I look through the channels of history this is not what I see
I see men shackled in chains of subjugation and humiliation
While tyrannical rulers play god through domination

All men are created equal free
But there are so many lands that suffer under the dark clouds of oppression
In a land called the Ogaden this hurricane of hatred sweeps through it destroying all that may be in its path
Many see the extent of its devastation yet none come to aid of the survivors
These innocent souls, their lives dangle over the thin life between life and death
Some may even wish for the angel of death to come
We know of this truth yet we are expected to keep silent and Sweet melodies hum

Travelling through this land, blood pours becoming moisture when rains fail
Tears of infants flowing mixing with the soil and live molten lava burning, why does nobody hear their call?
Vultures feast on dead bodies strewn through the land, death hath not come upon these souls through a debilitating disease or a dangerous drought but by the merciless hand of oppressors
These savages drain the life out of the young and old, putting their freedom on choke hold
Asphyxiation of all rights and burying deep civil liberties
Governments advocate for the protection of these liberties yet give aid to this brutal regime
Underground dungeons of torture is what our taxes pay for, what a great shame
Villages up in flames, will the water quench the thirst of the child or douse the fire
They say no one is to blame but we say they are all liars

All men are created equal and free
Yet my sisters are soulfully destroyed by filthy beasts who simply take their honour and leave them for dead
My brothers slain and hung from trees , now the bullet to good for them
We shall not be bound and gagged
As long they continue to suffer, their pain is ours and our voice is theirs
As long as they silently cry, we shall loudly declare to the world their pain and suffering.

Asha Ali
Copyright © 2010

Tomorrow

Although you won’t believe me,
tomorrow will be the saddest day of my life.
Tomorrow I’ll be leaving, never to return again.
When the man that I have been married to for the last 10 years goes to work,
and my children go to school; I will throw a few items that mean nothing into a suitcase,
slip out of the house hoping to be unseen.
Take the tube, the metro, the TTC, the bus.
The quickest root to no where.
There, for an unspecified period I will wash the remains of my life away in public washrooms,
I will sleep on the floor in bus terminals,
hopping from strangers to stranger, content on sleeping on their uncomfortable couches,
With me I will be carrying my youngest daughter’s musty duvet,
in a purse that wasn’t sturdy enough to carry my baggage and demons.
And yes I have made up my mind,
I will not be returning to this life.
I cannot.
Perhaps I should leave a note conveying my message?
Dear beloveds, I’ve left you.

Hayat Magan aka Twisted Elegance
Copyright © 2010

Protect the Elephants of Africa!

As the Horn of Africa is in distemper,
Lots of elephants are in danger!
Fleeing from bullets of hunters!
In Kenya, they are killed by poachers!

Depopulating is the giant animal!
In Africa, the biggest earthly mammal,
Is brutally shot to death by criminal!
Old in age, or young and small;

Some shoot it with poisonous arrows!
And the poor elephant bitterly bellows!
Grunting and purring with pain, pain!
The poachers shoot it again and again!

It is poached and the animal parturient!
Lactating and with an infant!
In early gestation and expectant!
While moulting and important!

Milking the young or mating!
Peacefully playing and whistling!
Cold-blooded shooting and killing!
Fleeing, falling and finishing!

In the green African jungle,
There grazed the animal,
No disturbance and quarrel,
At ease, livelihood struggle.

Gone is that heyday!
Of our African bay!
Displaced by grisly fray!
High price the beasts pay!

Along side the lake, around Afmadow,
No trumpeting calf and cow!
Rogue bull and running callow!
Nil and nay are all under the yellow!

However wild and aggressive!
Dangerous and destructive!
Slaughter it not for its ivory!
Recall it is a valuable property!

Please protect the elephant!
The wild gold of the continent!
The ever-green African continent!
Full of resources and pregnant!

Love it and love Africa!
Keep it and keep Africa!
Care it and care Africa!
Save it and save Africa!

No care and civil protection!
Individual, social salvation!
It lacks basic consideration!
On the way to extinction!

Mohamed Abdikadir Daud (Stanza)
Copyright ©2010

Oh Child

Oh child,
Although you may not have all the necessities of good living.
Yet you inspire me, with that smile of yours.
Capturing innocence perspective of life.
Surrounded by extreme poverty.
I see you playing and kicking that football of yours,
With other kids like you.
All I can do, is but wonder, how you can continue?
The energy of your spirit, is strong indeed, to endure all of this.

Where I lack simplicity in living,
You on the other hand embody it.
Making living from scraps of pennies,
Working hard each day to survive.
Walking miles of distance, just to learn few alphabets.
Knowing the small opportunity it may open for tomorrow,
Just to be shut down, by the requisite of school uniform,
A commodity of purchase, beyond affordability.

Gone are the empty promises, and the aid packages sent to you.
Consumed by corruptions and bureaucracy of few many.
Poverty far from their reach, living-large, royals of the 21st century,
Driving tinted black-on-black luxury cars, sending their children to IVY league schools.

While you never asked any much, trapped in this poverty cycle, forgotten by many.
It’s hard to ignore your struggle, without being changed inside.
Although I can’t solve all your problems, I can promise you to take the first step...

Sadiiq Ashuhle
Copyright © 2008

Dear self

Dear Self
Please know that
Struggle of yours
Ain't the first one to be fought
Certainly not the last one

Although world's difficulties
And weight upon your shoulder at this time you've
Caught between lines of old and new self
Ghost of the past hanging behind the corner
Waiting to enter again

Hardly giving me a break, is this struggle
Feeling pain to balance it out
Knowing where to go is essential
Far have you come, to turn back
After this is over, all this will be memory

Sadiiq Ashuhle
Copyright © 2008

Awaken

A race deprived of its own grace
No home as it has destroyed its permanent space
Those current residence won't stop the bloodshed unless the earth cries I had enough Somali blood and flesh
And the fortunate one who made it out main concern is staying fresh
Now how do u speak to a man who dreams of making a career out of putting a ball in mesh
A prisoner of his own mind
Self doubt got him confined
Determination and hope words that will never see the light and always racing from behind
The pulse of the Somali mind flat lined

A bleak hope lies within those who's visions extend beyond this mental prison
Desperately needed is a chef that can put this dish together as the ingredients are there one race one religion
Whispers of cries heard from a dormant giant longing to awaken
And the good doctor’s prescription; daily dosage of knowledge n continued lust for education

Ismail Hassan
Copyright © 2010

HOMELAND

There are three unfading lights,

They are heartthrob foliages,

They are gifts from the Creator:

State with united people,

Government and constitution,

The threesomes are interest of the citizens.

My homeland is the place:

Where life is at peace by itself,

Under the waving flag over my head;

My homeland deserves patriotic effort,

Common defense against the foe,

It is a central shady shelter.

My homeland is my birthright,

A river that I leisurely swim in,

It is my immoveable crop.

My homeland means to me:

My gold and monthly due,

A bed that I rest on;

My homeland is where:

That I can dance and celebrate,

Without fear of being slighted;

My homeland is where:

That I am ambassador and agent for,

And a conductor of the national issues;

My homeland is where I enjoy:

The sight of the clay, sand and loom soil,

And the location of the lovely national silt;

My homeland is where I am moved by:

The shape of the moon and the Aries,

And the full-blown shining Taurus;

My homeland is where:

I have national brand,

Identity and registration;

My homeland means to me:

Prettiness of the celestial rainbow

And ever stainless diamond;

My homeland is where:

The poem-belching hero,

Gets welfare and recognition;

My homeland is where:

I am acclaimed and noted,

And fear of no man's vanquish.

My homeland is where I feel for:

Ever-lasting national nostalgia,

It is a model on my shoulders.

My homeland is where:

No one says to me "foreigner!"

And I feel no sense of strangeness.

My homeland is where:

I am not a poor refugee,

And I live with nobody's bail!

My homeland is where:

My brain is in peace,

And my mind produces wisdom.

My homeland is where:

I need no adaptation to the atmosphere,

And I fear of no violation and starvation!

My homeland is where:

The nation mournfully inter

A talented that died outside;

My homeland is where:

I merrily celebrate,

During my heydays;

My homeland is where:

I can't be uprooted from,

And fear of no damnification.

My homeland is where:

I choose as per my option,

And live on my conscience.

My homeland is where:

I can marry my suitable filly,

And in peace, live with her in a castle.

My homeland is where:

My battalion launches attack from,

Against the enemy at war with me;

My homeland is where:

Different mammals of livestock,

Get breeding and good husbandry.

My homeland is where:

The patriots sip mouth-fully,

Colostrums, milk and butter;

My homeland is where:

I rear herd of domestic animals,

And bring up my kids with the dirham.

My homeland is where:

There is a deer and gazelle,

And a galloping horse;

My homeland is where:

People are medicated with

Medicinal trees and healing herbs;

My homeland is where:

I hear hymn and recitation of the Holy Koran,

And people praying and supplicating Almighty God.

My homeland is where:

The youth celebrate midnight,

Enjoying the splendid season of autumn;

My homeland is where:

I fall in love with:

My pearly Deeqa and Ubah;

My homeland is where:

There is dazzling streams

And beautiful valleys of tourism;

My homeland is where:

A bachelor man in love

Dates a miss for marriage;

My homeland is where:

The pasture and budding

And the green grass prospers.

Homeland is where:

I have bilateral relation with my neighbour,

And I abide by the constitution in between us.

My homeland means to me:

Tame and well-trained he-camel,

The glance and stare at love.

My homeland means to me:

A ship and boat loaded with resource,

And a marine that never ever sink.

My homeland means to me:

The beauty of a peacock!

And full-blown crops of a farm!

My homeland means to me:

A mat and valance of protection!

And a blanket covering me from coldness;

My homeland means to me:

A path to an open shop of my own!

And the best strategy of playing chess!

My homeland is where:

The tailor and the man of justice,

Each does his duties as per protocol.

My homeland is where:

There are: stairs, dollars and local shilling.

And booming business and trade in peace;

My homeland is where:

I am treated of painful wounds

And the hard blow on my head.

My homeland is where:

The dull has a right to study

And the weak is safeguarded.

My homeland is where:

I am not asked for entry and exit,

And I pay no coin for a staying visa!

My homeland means to me:

The cocking and saluting of national mighty army!

And the honourable ranks on the shoulders of the officers.

Oh! My dear homeland!

I will defend thee!

With my soul and golden blood!

Because of you my dear homeland!

I will fire-cover you from the cruising missiles!

And for your sake I will stand on the way of the enemy's jet-fighters!

I will never ever get tired of your defense!

You are faxed on my instincts and senses!

I wish you for peace and bright future!

Wash away the now bad remarks on your name!

Forget the meaningless destruction of the civil-war!

Please compete please, compete with your peers!

Mohamed Abdikadir Daud (Stanza)
Copyright ©2010

NOTE: This poem was written by Staza in Somali language and then, he translated it into English.

One last kiss

On the night I came into this world, I never saw your eyes
You where entwined in the life you so honesty devoted yourself too
and I, merely wanted....daddy home, to meet and sense his warmth.

I never knew love the way you loved me,
tender, gentle, harsh, stern, honest, and clear.
There are many nights, I despised you, for being difficult,
Little did I know, it was I.

And now, a day and a half, before you went to Allah,
Your voice still gentle, filled with loving advice,
As if you knew, and hurt for me, that there was not going to be one last kiss from me
And it came, that voice, I wanted to hear, was not yours, there was a silence in my heart,
a cold fear, shattering anger, bewildering tears strolled down my eyes
Then I heard this gentle voice, in my dream, that said
"Until we meet Abee, farewell, remember, you are my love, and little baby, and I will always be near you, but from afar"

May heaven receive you daddy, and everyone with warm arms.

Fatima J
Copyright © 2010