When I'm around the deaf community or meet new deafies almost everyone tells me that they lost their hearing very young age some were born deaf and when I tell them I became hearing loss at age 14 they jaw drop and it makes me feel like I'm the oldest to became hearing loss. I don't mean I'm actually the oldest to loss hearing of course there are other people who are older than I but it really make me feel like one especially when I meet around ten deaf people and all say the same.
It's difficult to explain my condition however I can tell the whole journey from the beginning to right now. This journey was the most hardship I ever faced and at the beginning I got sick with several different kind of health problems included lose of appetite, burning feet and losing my hearing.
At first I lost my appetite the food was stinking whenever food comes around I ran out to vomit and all I ate was a tablespoon of dry orange juice I mixed with sugar and water and I drank it twice a day, I lost few lbs and skipped madrasa (Islamic school) few weeks. Then when I finally got my appetite back I started having feet burn it only burns at night on bedtime we usually went to bed around seven or eight o'clock, I screamed, groaned, scratched my legs on my tiny mattress or on the mat, it was painful I could feel my bone marrow following down from knees to my feet. I applied oil and massaged it but nothing helped I didn't go to a doctor because we couldn't afford there is no such thing as health insurance in my country you pay your Dr visit and your medicines and our living was just $100 US Dollar a month plus grandma paid our madrasas and my cousin's elementary school, however if grandma let mom know she would send me some money for my medical anyway grandma didn't have concern for my both the burning feet and the appetite loss. It took what felt like couple weeks then I finally got back my sweet good night sleep.
These were temporary but the last one the hearing loss become permanent after the burning feet was gone I developed tinnitus that occurred at bedtime too same as the burning feet, the tinnitus was awful I could hear everything that I heard in the past, birds chirping, car horn honks, phone ringing, people chattering, varies animal voices, Azan (mullah calling for prayer at the mosque) the list goes on everything that I heard when I was hearing in the past came inside my ears, and every night that my ears rang my hearing reduced after it lasted six nights I finally come to realize that I'm completely deaf at the seventh morning . I have informed grandma about the tinnitus at the very first but she didn't take it serious she thought it was temporary just like the appetite and the feet and it will pass soon, so neither I. I didn't take it serious until I couldn't hear a thing in the morning of the seventh night of the tinnitus.
At first I was scared and couldn't believe that I was really deaf I sometimes sat down, put my head on my knees and cried. I couldn't hear the madrasa teacher he was a male and we sat behind curtain in the madrasa when he wanted us to recite the Quran he called out our names one at a time and the student who are called recite the Quran immediately but I couldn't hear him when he called me out the students didn't know I have not told them because I didn't understand what was wrong with my ears. he called my name twice until our supervisor gestured me to recite the Quran then I went home sad and at the same time upset and embarrassed as well that was the last time I went to the madrasa my grandma didn't want me to quit the madrasa so I pretended that I went to the madrasa and sat behind our corrugated iron sheet bedroom and come out after the madrasa was over and the next day I went to a neighbor's home and stayed till the madrasa was over and the next day sneaked to a friend.
Later grandma found out that I have not gone to madrasa in three row days and was angry she asked me why am I paying money if you're not studying? where have you been blaah. I told her you're wasting your money because I no longer hear a thing and I left the madrasa because I couldn't hear when the teacher called my name fortunately she didn't punish me.
My world went upside down the madrasa friends, the neighbors and the whole country become meany I felt unsafe walking on the alleys or on the dusty streets, the local you boys playing on the streets threw me stones called me names such as dhagool (she who's deaf) they wold follow me sometimes while still throwing stones and calling me names the adults or passersby just watched and didn't do anything, the girls called me names, laughed at me and made fun of but they didn't throw things, I hated those kids and I hated their parents more because if their parents taught them to respect people they wouldn't do this to me.
The adults were no better they would tell me craps of how bad luck I'll be in the future they told me that no matter how beautiful, and smart I'm no man will marry me except those poor ones, the old men, or the a disabled like me and this was worsening the trauma that I was already dealing with, however if I had a supportive family all those wouldn't matter that much my family were even worst they would laugh when I misunderstood of things and then they repeat it to other people in the next days,weeks,months or years it's like they never forget it for example one full moon night granny, my cousin, his mother and I were sitting inside our thorn bushes of compound between our nomad hut that we used as a kitchen and our corrugated iron sheet bedroom my cousin began repeating a story about a speeding car that he saw in nomad, I guess this speeding car was his first time to see a car because he talked about this a lot it was full moon but there were no other lights and I tried to lipread but I couldn't read his tiny little lips so I thought he said a speeding woman since the words gaadhi (car) and gabadh (woman) in somali language are bit alike, I misunderstood and impulsively asked him. Was the lady running? because how else can she speed. Everybody burst out laugh but it hurts that my own family were laughing at me instead of explaining what he said however the worst part is that they kept telling the relatives, neighbors or the visitors what I said in the next days,weeks months and years and this was not the only moment, there were so many moments that misunderstanding like that happened.
Afterward I felt sad, isolated and depressed I gave up the madrasa and I was angry that I gave up because my peers whom I was competing were still there but not me. I would cry and say. Dear God why me? Why did you forsake me? When I was sad crying I prayed for those who hurt me for being deaf to become deaf like me but they never did,
What seemed like a month passed and I still have not seen a Dr until one afternoon my grandma's cousin visited us and she told granny stop watching this girl and take her a doctor after that I was taken to few doctors but none of them helped I don't even know what they said I was told that they said go to abroad for hearing aid. I was taken to Hargeisa the capital city of Somaliland the self-declared state internationally recognized as an autonomous region of Somalia. where I stayed three months then I was taken to Ethiopia but the Ethiopian doctors said the same so there was no hope for me until my mother who already lived in the states told us that she have plans for me.
I was also taken to several cultural healing centers because my grandma was obsessed with evil possession she thought I was possessed and took me to a local (cilaaj) the healing center what they heal is evil eye, witchcraft, jinn and black magic the cilaaj was awful during the examination the imam would pull one or two of my fingers backward which was very painful, he would whip me a water hose and put something that was suffocating on my nose that I couldn't breathe and at the end he gave me so many more remedies from plants that were all unbearable to use however I did. a jar of water with some kind of plants that he gave to drink at bedtime, a jar of oil with some kind of plant to run all over my body at bedtime and sleep with it, a dry leaves to burn it in incense burner and cover with a large blanket to get the steam and a container of holy water called cashar that he recited quran and slightly spit on it for both drink and rinse after I take shower and I did this for a week while still attending the cilaaj.
During the test there was no sign of possession but I was told to keep going few more months so I did, after a month and half one day the imam called me and his niece-in-law for exam. We sat down in the exam room, he gave us a water hose each and told us to put onto our ears then he recited Quranic verses shortly the he pulled my fingers backward and it hurt awfully I though he was going to break my fingers after I couldn't bear the pain I tried to pretend that I'm possessed. Bad idea is not it? I just wanted him to let my fingers go before he break them I threw the hose and yelled. let me go, let go off of my fingers then he started asking so many questions but I couldn't find an answer however I said what I could to act like possessed. I told him I'm possessed by jinn but when he asked the reason why I was possessed and the location where I was when I was possessed I couldn't say a thing because I'm not a skilled liar I was trying my best to lie but then all of sudden the imam did something. He did sexual violence I was laying on the ground trying to easy the pain caused by him for pulling my fingers he was pulling the fingers on my right hand and my left hand he put it under his knee he was sitting in front of me then he inserted his other hand under my hijab and started squeezing, squeezing and squeezing my breast, I was scared I couldn't believe he was doing this especially in front of his niece in law who was teenage girl, I was scared what if he brought me here to rape me, I was scared what if he sends his niece in law out of the room and locks me inside with him because no matter how I scream or yell nobody will believe me because everyone will assume that I was possessed and the devil is using me so I pulled my hand under his knee and pulled his hand off of my breast but he did it once more this is when I decided to tell him the truth that I'm not possessed I sat down and told him I'm fine, I'm not sick and your healing is not necessary please let me go.
He stood immediately stepped out of the room quickly and told his niece in law take her to the ladies room I sat down in the ladies room exhausted and my eight finger except the thumbs were hurt bad I didn't say anything about what the imam did to the girl I didn't even ask his niece in law if she saw it, I wasn't in the position of talking about it I just wanted to leave the damn cilaaj and never return, I could leave the moment but the men in the front will think I'm possessed they'll bring me back forcefully so it was no use.
At 12PM it was our time to leave the cilaaj I asked a lady to roll my hijab and put it on my shoulder because I couldn't use my hands to roll or to carry it I walked many miles to home and when I finally come home an hour later I saw the imam standing inside our iron sheet bedroom talking with grandma. and grandma seemed delighted to hear that finally the jinns spoke and she thought since the jinns spoke they'll leave and my hearing will return she also wanted the imam to examine me in front of her so she can witness it but what is left for me I already had the worst and if the imam pulls my fingers again I'm sure they'll all break. How smart is he? he come before me to tell her the lies I made up so that grandma don't believe my story. I ran because I didn't want to see him again and never said a word.
The next morning I decided not to go to the cilaaj grandma was disappointed that I refuse to go to the cilaaj and thought the jinns or whatever possessed me are using me and she was threatening that she'll take me to cilaaj forcefully, lock me in the building until what possessed me leaves and my hearing returns however I didn't go. I stood far side of the compound so she don't catch me and whenever someone try to come closer to convince me to go back to the cilaaj I ran. Fortunately I wasn't forced to go the cilaaj .
You might be curious why I didn't say anything. Aren't you? Well when I see stories of women who were raped, molested or sexually abused and they didn't report I used to say what the hell? Why didn't they say something? In my case I couldn't it's not because I didn't want to, it's because who'll believe me? The imam was powerful in the area were we lived. Being powerful doesn't have to be being a king, a queen, president or God, when you're well respected it's power too. We were neighbors, he was considered the best imam, he owned and operated couple madrasas one for kids in the morning and one for ladies in the afternoon, he owned and operated the cilaaj that I was going, he was the prayer leader of one of the local mosque, he was engaged to a pretty young neighbor girl as his 2nd wife most of my neighbor women were his students. And most of all he told grandma that he took his niece in law with me so that means I wasn't alone with him of course I wasn't but I couldn't trust his niece in law that she may testify because she was a teenager and she was his family although she was his in law but I wouldn't trust that she'll tell the truth if grandma asked her. That's why I decided not to say anything because nobody is going to believe a teenage girl and disbelieve the town's top best imam. He was called Abdillahi Shareco. Shareco in arabic means Sharia I don't know if it's his nickname or his father's name but people called him Mr Sharia and Sharia law is the Islamic law so being Mr. Sharia it giv.es him more respect than other imams. I also couldn't trust my own grandma because she was always humiliating me around people. She would tell them not to listen or believe me because I'm just a crazy teenager who doesn't even remember what she ate last night or the crazy teenagers who doesn't know where she is going or coming from. Years elapsed when grandma asked me if I want to back to the cilaaj this is when I finally told her the truth that I was hiding years I told no one else she was the first person I told and I'm glad she believed me that time.
My mother's plans worked and I came to the states fall in 2008 I went to the doctors which I received hearing aid at first however the hearing aid didn't work if I'm not wearing hearing aid I can recognize the sound whether it's voice or other sound however with hearing aid every sound was louder than musical drums I then went to the doctor and we talked about Cochlear Implant this time somehow I decided not to take it because the risk is greater than the hope I had I couldn't insert a rusty metal on my head for and most of all I want to get back my hearing naturally not a device that's when I decided not to have surgery for the implant and I'm happy that I didn't get it. Thanks to some of deaf folks who gave me the courage to be me and be proud of who I'm, I'm more than proud today because I read, write and speak my native language somali I also use english and American Sign Language. When there are no translators I do write although I'm still a beginner in english and sign language I do my best.
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