Mama Africa

As I finished work this afternoon and was sitting on the bus stop waiting my next bus since I missed the first one, I noticed there was this helicopter whirring in the air above my area back and fort.
I don't know what the helicopter was searching for, I was asking myself. Is it taking photos, Is it watching criminal on loose, Or is there a new pilot learning how to fly  it?

For moment I got bored with it and started playing solitaire cards on my phone but then I glanced up to see if the helicopter was gone and noticed there were 2 airplanes up in the blues  one was close but the other was too far and as I stared at it the far one which was too small to see, it disappeared in a small cloud for moment then reappeared with  its windows sparkled with the sun and shone and then it disappeared into the blue skies.

In that moment my childhood memories that I have forgotten for years  poured into  my mind, remembering of how I used to see those iron birds flying high on the air above me constantly while I stared from the ground thinking of what are those iron birds are like and how can they fly high on the air without flapping their wings,  or how many people can they take. 10 I would assumed since its usually small when its too far until one day I flew on it to here. That was the first and the last day.

So I held my head up still for moment  so the tears don't run down, this is what usually happens when I remember the old times I had, I have missed nature so much that ever since I left nomad I have not seen any nature in here or anywhere everywhere I go  is buildings, roads, bridges, and even the trees and flowers are  planted by people  nothing is nature in here everything is sculpted and planted and made by people, I admit it's beautiful here and I admire the way people love plants and take care of  the environment instead of chopping trees, and cutting all of the grass  but nothing is compared to  (Mama Africa)

By saying I have missed my old days I don't mean the abuse, the neglect, the FGM, the  insane  grandma or having mama's little helper uncle or the spoiled brat cousins, what I missed is the tending the family animals, feeding the lamb and goat kids, milking, helping them when the thorns dig deep into their hooves or when their fur is filled with  ticks I would kill all of the ticks and dig the thorns out, digging deep in the ground to find  tree roots for our  hut, cutting tall grass to weave grass mats for our hut, sleeping under the stars at night and the heavenly tree shades, seeing all kind of wild animals, climbing hills or small mountains, running like free, doing somersaults, side flips, singing  and knowing no one is watching,  when I get wounds I was healed with herb plants instead of medicines, I used to carve thorns in it's back and make a small hall in which I put a thread and used for sewing  when there was no needle around, it's countless of work I used to do and everyday I had a long task to do.

I have been in  heavy  rain with no shelter around, I have been in  dust storms with no shelter, no glasses to wear to see things, no mask to cover nose and mouth, I have seen rain seasons and it's  beautifulness and blessings , and I have seen dry seasons and it's tragedies and these are all nature where you don't fear of things but trust your instinct instead.

I missed the songs I used to sing for the animals when I was herding them, the songs I used to sing for the smart ass fox that I was not afraid  of it if it tried to eat my animals, the songs I used to sing when I was shaking the milk to produce butter, and the lullabies I used to sings for  my little cousins  which I don't even remember a word of it.

I have never gained an lbs of weight but now I'm from XS to soon  XL, I can't believe who really I became, I used to love the animals but today I have no an animal in my home, I used to be their friend but today no friend at all, I used to work hard restlessly but now I just sit here, doing  nothing, being nobody.

In my self esteem this is a huge down ward change except raising my daughter I don't do any other important works or personal pleasure, hobbies etc, and I believe change must be done sooner. I think writing my blog, reading books, and going to college  will  help me kick start  my career as a  new journey.

Maid Job for a Shepherd Girl (part 2)

You probably read the part one, that was a short story and a bit weird. Right?

Now here comes part 2!

 It was during rain season and it was such good weather with plenty of pasture for the animals we had and it was a late morning, when I come home from the maqal that I left nearby to drink water and some milk after the butter was produced.

I entered the hut after I drank the water from the metal barrels  we used to store  water I saw grandma's keys hanging inside the hut, I shivered with excitements because this key was a treasure for me that I was  hunting in my whole life  especially when I was padlocked however grandma never took it off from her neck, we called it (granny's necklace) she only took it off when she was bathing and she only bathed what I think was once in months because she didn't like going to the village to collect water especially during dry seasons but we bathed a lot during the rain seasons, I always wanted to get this key once because not only that I was padlocked but also this key opens the sugar that we had and this sugar was the only sweet thing we ever ate in nomad. No candies, no biscuits, no lollipops or other sweets it's the only sugar and we used to steal whenever we see an unsecured sugar at home.

I made so many tricks and tactics to get this key off of granny's neck however I failed every time I tried, for example, I used to ask grandma to let me open the container we called Joog, it's exactly like the aluminum milk can however it had door hasp latch lock this container is usually used for storing butter however granny had couple the little one for the butter and the large  one for the valuable things such as sugar,money, gold  and  other values.

Sometimes I used to brainstorm ways  to get this key, sometimes I thought that it was possible  to prepare a knife before the bedtime and wait till granny fall sleep then sneak and cut the  string off in the middle of the night, then free myself from the chain, run away and never return, but I was sure it was never going to be possible because grandma never fall slept when everyone finally fall slept like dead after the long day  of exhaustion we all fall slept like we dead as soon as we lay down on that tiny mat but granny was different the only time we thought she was sleeping was when her eyes were closed but her  mind was awake she can hear if a goat snorts or if the herds make any  motions and she was always yelling to alert the hungry Hyenas that she is aware of his disturbance, (Waryaa hoy) she would say whenever the goats snort to alert that there is a predator   or if the herds make stampede movement inside their pens  she would get  up in the middle of the night, walk circling the herd pens to make sure whatever is bothering to the animal  goes away and still yelling waryaa hoy, or if we the girls made movements when we were sleeping her sides she would spank us and Hey stop it. Sometimes she woke us up in the early mornings and told us that the herds didn't rest last night because there are too many ticks and chiggers in them and we had to kill those ticks and chiggers.  So if she never fall sleep. How am I going to get this key by cutting the string off of her neck and stealing the key. I was sure this was a dumb  idea so I never tried otherwise I'll put myself in risk of more terrible punishments since I  dared to get a weapon and attempt to steal the treasure.

I grabbed the string opened the Joog and stole what seemed like one cup of sugar put it into my pockets and then there was some amount of Somali Shillings, Puntland region Shillings  in there so I stole half of it probably  $20-$30 something, hid it in my armpit  then I left pretending that I went back to the maqal but when I reached the maqal I crawled, crawled and crawled until I crawled enough distance then stood behind huge bushes that were above my height,   I stood and run as fast as I could headed to the nearest  village where I wanted to ride the first truck departing early morning tomorrow, somehow I over stayed with a family in outskirt of the village because I was sure as soon as grandma find out that I stole money the first place she'll be  searching  is this village so I must stay away from the village, I stayed with this family few days and I even shared some of the Shillings with the kids I don't like to have something that the people I'm with don't have,  I told them to keep this as a secret and when you get the chance to go to the village buy candies I knew the kids loved lollipops so did I. However the smallest couldn't keep the promise and she blew the whistle which their mother told them to give the money back and I got it back except the one that I gave to the oldest I suppose she was her sister or his sister but she wasn't a sibling to the kids she was their babysitter.

After few days the lady of the house kept going to the village and I  suspect she went to report my whereabouts,  I had to leave before it was too late, I headed to another kilometer away village which I took a truck to  Burao the second largest city in Somaliland region after the capital city. The problem was that I didn't know how to count or how to use money, I never used money before, I never learned math and couldn't count plus this Puntland Shillings were rare in my region we used a different kind of Shillings. So  whenever I buy something I couldn't count and give what they owe me  instead I handed the whole shillings and told them take what is yours and I took what they give me back. I believe  half of the money was pocketed as I remembered I gave a tailor  lady all the Shillings I had and asked her to sew me a dira that I bought on the way  a large gown worn by Somali women and I told her take what you owe  me  and return the rest however  she didn't look the money but put it into a drawer and she didn't  return anything. I couldn't leave empty handed while I knew the lady pocketed all of my money so I asked her  to give what is mine back again, this time, she didn't count or even look at it,  she just opened the drawer grabbed few Shillings and handed it to me. Or perhaps she was just like me! Who knows.

After I got off the truck I wandered into  the huge city with different kind of buildings some brick buildings, some corrugated iron sheet building, some other kind we called bus which was the building's style was similar to the city buses that was usually built from collected Large Nido milk cans, oil tins and roofed with old clothes sewn together with a huge needle, and woven grass, some were huts like the one we used in nomad made of woven dried grass, sticks, and more  the streets were dusty and crowded especially around the markets where people go  for grocery every morning and afternoons. The air was filled with the smell of fried meat the butchers fry leftovers before they return home and sell the fried meat, I bought lunch that day and spent the last Shillings I was happy that I come to the city of my dream, I hated herding and I hated nomad so much I wanted to live in  a city like Burao, I wanted to be like those girls who dressed  nicely and ate  tasty foods.

I walked, walked and walked around the city and finally before the sunset I intruded into a thorn branches compound of a family and asked them water which the Madam of the house  told me to stay with them and the next day next door lady a small shop owner  told Madam to pass the little girl to me  I need a maid, a tiny helping hands for free. I went to her home and stayed three days, the reason I wanted to stay with the shop owner was that I wanted candy,gum and so many sweets in her shop, unfortunately, there was no way I could get. I tried to push her daughter to go in the shop however she was not allowed only her mother older brother took turn the shop. But then there was a phone call one morning which was handed to me. Hello I said there was this strange voice that I never heard  a male voice, the caller told me that he is a relative, told me his offspring which is close relatives of my mother's and he told me that my family is in the city looking for me.  Fear snapped in my veins. I remembered that I could not lift my legs or speak to the caller I stood there still holding the phone for a while absent minded, couldn't believe what he said. How did they came all this way and then find me from this huge city full of thousand people? Because the moment I arrived I thought they would never find me in this huge city, unlike the small villages where there were up to fifteen  huts and it was easy for them to find me however now I was in a huge city. Small world. Is not it?

He told me that they were coming for me and told me to stay there until they come to me I felt my stomach twist tighter and tighter and my hands shaking. I told him OK I'll wait them then as soon as I hanged up the phone I started to think of ways to escape from this lady  because now she knew that my family is on their way  she won't let me leave so I had to keep an eye on her and as soon as I lost her sight  I disappeared, I walked few blocks and came to a small hut lived by an elder woman alone at the time whom I shall call Shamis  after we talked for a while she suggested me to go to a friend of hers the next morning, to work  for her and take my money she also told me to tell everyone that she is my mother. We stayed together all day we started building another small hut made of sticks and clothes she didn't have collected milk cans and oil tins so the hut she built for me to sleep tonight, while we were building the hut there came a tall mid-30s guy he was wearing  a sarong (macawiis), a nice ironed shirt, some fancy sandals, a gap on his shoulders that Somali men carry as fashion style,  a dark sunglasses and a walking cane used by mostly men whether they're old or middle aged its part of the fashion.

When the guy saw us building the hut he turned to us and come , sat under the shade of the  old hut, let me introduce you to my daughter Halima who visited me from nomad today. Shamis said and  as he watched me the whole time admiring and  making jokes of my body. Oh, look at these tiny blooming breasts he would said. I thought he was blind at first because I never saw someone wearing sunglasses I only seen people wearing eyeglasses for medical purposes but this was my first time to see someone wearing glasses for no medical reasons, I whispered on Shamis's ear. How can he see my breast if he is blind? They burst out laugh and told me that the dude is not blind but those glasses are worn  for  fashions. they both knew each other because the dude was a watchman for a foreign firm owned building next to Shamis's hut.

As Shamis was aware  that the dude liked me after she introduced him to me  and really wanted the dude and I have some private conversations she made tea in that evening, poured it into a flask,  handed  me the flask and mug  and told me to bring the tea to him, I knew the guy will flirt with me as I was too young for  marriage or date also things such as date and marriage were unspeakable to me so I was nervous  fortunately the guy was praying the evening salat  in the front gate and the door was open so I put the flask and mug down and left, the next morning before Shamis and I went to my future boss's house a goat wandered into Shamis's home  I chased it away and saw the dude sitting in front of the house, he called me multiple time however I ignored  after that day he didn't bother me.

At the first night with Shamis her husband arrived after dark. we were sitting next to the fire pit since Shamis had no kitchen cooking beans for dinner she told her husband the same lies she told the watchman he tried to ask me about the family's place of current residence since I couldn't respond Shamis answered the question instead and her husband didn't suspect anything, after we ate the beans I slept in the new hut however it was scary that night, the hut was blank in the lower party because she didn't have enough clothes or metals to fill in,  I curled myself into a ball size,  buried myself under  a  bed sheet that I used as a   blanket, I was scared of the wild dogs howling everywhere, the hyenas and every wild animal comes into the city at night where they seek food. I was sure I'll the be meal for the wild dogs or the hyenas, I was ready to scream if anything touches me as the howling of the wild dogs came closer and closer I got  scared even more  and I didn't make any motion in the whole night until the sun rose above the horizon, that morning the local girls were visiting us as the rumors spread, they  asked Shamis to allow them to play with me which she rejected, she came from nomad yesterday and she needs to rest. Shamis told the girls as they left.

Shamis and I went to my new boss's house at the late morning, Shamis knocked on the door of a brick building which seemed very nice after the door was opened we entered as  Shamis and the lady agreed to hire me as a maid as Halima the Shamis's daughter. Shamis said her goodbyes I didn't really want her to leave me however she was not my family there was no reason for me to cling or run after her.

I spent a week with the  new boss who had four kids one was under  a year and her oldest daughter was probably ten years old. I didn't do any work that the real maids do I only did what was told to do so. She told me to go back to your mother because I didn't do my job instead I played with her daughter which caused her losing the track of her daily duties as the oldest kid in the household. I went back to Shamis excited, she let me  stay with her, however, she no longer claimed me to be her daughter so the fake Halima no longer exists, I stayed with Shamis for a short time but she kicked me out after I stole few shillings and when she demanded me to give it back I denied claiming I didn't take it, days before she kicked me out we visited a neighbor who told me that they're marexan tribe same tribe as my father's. Why don't you come to us? they asked Shamis isn't marexan but we're and we're your tribes that make us families so come to us. Since I'm not worried about the next place to go I left Shamis and went straight to the marexan family.

The marexan family were a married couple with two years old son, a 20 something  girl called Sucad and a teen boy who were relatives, this family were the worst I ever stayed with,  I went to them in the late evening, slept with them in that night but the next morning Sucad told me her uncle wanted me for some questions, when I went to him sitting in the compound the first question he asked me  was if I'm circumcised. It was frightening but then few days later there came a dude, the teenage boy Ridwan's older brother whom I don't even know his name, he was broad shouldered with big muscle as if he was a gym boy, he was a construction worker maybe that gave him all these muscles except the big belly. When he found out where I came from he said, this girl came from the west he meant west of Somaliland region and she drank camel milk Ridwan must marry her he said. I was like what? Ridwan have no job and can't afford wedding or family livings, he must be kidding I told myself and  of course I drank camel milk, so what. Cause most nomad camel owners  drink camel milk.

As time passed couple weeks probably their secret plan was coming out  they bought me a dira but didn't give it to me, they told me that they'll sew it for me  and buy me a googarad some kind of underwear for the diras however I wasn't aware of their secret plans until one evening Sucad and I went to a neighbor to buy eggs, Sucad  was chatting with another Najma when  a woman Sirad Najma's sister-in-law  sneaked to me. I'm marexan she told me. why don't you come to me? This family are midgo a small tribe that faces much prejudice and discrimination, I told  Sirad they said they were marexan, they laid she said. I couldn't trust both of them either do I care if they're marexan or not, I didn't say anything I went back with Sucad after we came home I sat back of the corrugated iron sheet which the married couple used to sleep there were Sucad and another relative girl who visited I eavesdropped during that time I  overheard Sucad telling the other  that they plan Ridman's older brother to marry me. I don't know what was the whole plan however I knew  without my family's approval the marriage won't be valid and I was sure my family wouldn't marry me off because they were hoping that my mother will  make visa for me and bring me to abroad.

After I heard this I tiptoed and run to  Sirad,  Najma and I went back to get my old clothes they didn't give me the new dira. I spent another week with Sirad who lived with her in-laws her husband was working from sun rise to sunset and was never at home I didn't leave the house and nobody asked me to come to them, however, most of the neighbors wanted me and even asked Sirad and her in-laws to give me to them but one day everything changed about the neighbors. Sirad's teenage brother and sister-in-law asked me to play with them by chasing them around with a knife, I didn't know that the knives were dangerous things we only used it for cutting plants, slaughtering animals, carving things  and many more purposes, however, I have never seen knives used for people and don't forget that I have never watched T.V. at first I was hesitant but as they wouldn't leave me alone I did as they asked, I chased them around with the knife as they run and screamed as loud as they could to let the whole neighbors hear them it went 20 minutes and then I was blamed for it, it wasn't me who took the knife, it wasn't me who asked to chase with a knife yet everybody blamed me not the kids, after that day no neighbor wanted me. I'm sure this was mastered by the adults especially Sirad's mother-in-law because same week she took me to her oldest daughter Milgo's home, Milgo was a butcher like her mother they sat next to each other  in the market and she had two boys her youngest boy was six months old and the other was a year and half. Milgo went to the market in the morning and  returned  in the afternoon, I was alone with the boys all day feeding, cleaning and taking care of them for free of charge.

I hated babysitting I wouldn't mind washing dishes and clothes, sweeping the ground to clean  thorn or animal feces or any dirty but I couldn't do crying babies every day anyway one morning Milgo told me to take some shillings and buy sugar, butter and loose black tea in a nearby shop, after I bought the things I bought a lollipop and hid it from her but when she finished slaughtering and butchering the goat and preparing for  the market she counted the  money and noticed that there are   missing shillings, she asked me if I bought anything else besides  what she ordered me to buy.No, I replied then she went to the shop and asked them as the shopkeeper told her I bought a lollipop she told me to return and give her money back. I was angry I mean I babysit her two kids all day starving and tired, she doesn't pay me for doing it yet she can't give me the treat as a thank you. What a greedy. I know I was wrong because I didn't ask her cause I knew she wouldn't permit  me so there was no point of  asking, that day when she returned I left her sneaked out and went back to her mother I didn't know where else to go.

After I left Milgo I stayed with her mother and didn't transfer to another because the neighbors feared I might chase their kids with knives. except Sucad as one  morning, I was told to pull a wheelbarrow full of the slaughtered goat's intestine and unwanted body parts trying to throw it onto the trash yard. Sucad saw me and she chased me pleading to come back to them since  I didn't want to I tilted the wheelbarrow and dropped the dirty near the foreign firm owned building which was located on a very clean and beautiful ground. Weeks based and one late morning Sirad and I were washing clothes when  two stranger ladies came to Sirad who was still sitting and washing clothes while I fetch clean water the ladies asked Sirad water and Sirad had to wait for me to bring the water as I took little longer because the water pool was almost empty and it was above my height as I climbed couple concrete bricks to reach the bottom. When  I finally brought the water Sirad told me get some water for these ladies as I was to turn around to get a cup for them one of the ladies pulled my hair violently and threw me onto the ground I was scared because their faces were  unfamiliar and they didn't say anything about being my relatives all they asked was water when the lady knocked me on the ground granny and another unfamiliar face of woman appeared  out of thin air I was frightened even more as my eyes caught grandma I was sure I'll be dead. because I was away from home in months  and I spent all of the shillings I stole so I had to face the punishment for both stealing the money and running away from them, but for now there was no way I could run away again I was laying on the ground couple women surrounding me, later I found out why the lady beat me because she heard Sirad calling me wood because I was slow and took time to fill the Jerry can as I struggled to reach the bottom of the water pool  I heard her telling grandma and other lady about what Sirad called me I was angry to Sirad myself because I was the one doing the  hard work I washed clothes, I put the cleaned clothes onto the rope to air dry, I took the dirty water away and filled the Jerry can whenever it emptied. How can she call me wood when I did everything.

Granny and her two  cousins and one niece the one who beat me took me to a confectionery house where we ate some sweets and drinks then we headed to the house of Kaltun the one who hid with grandma behind a tree pole before I was beaten, Kaltun urged granny to give my mother a call and tell her my situation this is when mother told grandma to move to the city. This was a victory  for me. No more damn  nomad as granny left me with Kaltun to stay until she moves to the town.

Maid Job for a Shepherd Girl (part one)

I believe we all remember our first  jobs. Don't we? However, we receive  instructions  of what we'll do as we're starting our first official paid jobs.

But for me things were different. I remember my first supposedly  paid job was a maid job, the question is how did I get a job when I knew nothing about town livings? or what do maids do nor did I requested? it's kind of funny somehow I ended up like that.

So the journey started that day when  I escaped from my family and went a local small village called Magaalo Yar (Small Town) in north Somalia, I came to an elder lady sitting under a huge Acacia tree shade in her thorn branch compound  and her small hut. Water I said the elder lady who seemed to live with only her late teen son  as she gave  me a cup of water and told me to come in, she let me stay with her in the evening and we slept in the hut at night while her son slept in the compound because the hut was too small and he was old enough to sleep alone.

In the early morning she woke me up, told me to wash my face and come with her she took me to the  trucks station  I could see her glancing around to see  if someone is watching us she didn't want anyone to see us this is why we left very early before even the truck drivers and the other passengers arrived we waited and we got first truck to head to the city, this elder lady didn't say anything to where she was taking me or why she is taking me to there. I was asking myself all the time. What is going on? And she paid my fares.

When it was approximately  11 AM we arrived at the somewhat small city called Yiroowe a mountainous small town which was a village before the civil war but later people relocated and it became a small town which was good for trading goods.I was brought into  the market and the elder lady whom I never knew her name brought me to a woman seemingly relative or friend the woman was a butcher who slaughtered  sheep or goat in the early morning and sold the meat in the market with her oldest daughter who was in her 20s with a four  or five  years old daughter and of course they needed a maid and not only a  maid but also a babysitter for three kids the oldest was even older than me but he was a boy.

The ladies stood in a  corner  and discussed I didn't hear what they said, however, the elder lady went back to the village and now I was with another strangers and not know what is going on I just sat there hungry,tired and unknown of anything going on, later afternoon the butcher lady told her daughter to take me home and I was led to their home still no food because there was no food at home too the mother was expected to come back and bring any leftovers of the meat and some grocery to make dinner or ready cooked dinner.

I sat down and waited for a nice meal and a comfortable place to sleep as a guest while everyone was waiting for me to start the job as a maid, I had to clean,cook,wash clothes, babysit when the ladies are out, had to make the beds, replace the curtains and wash them and so many chores but I knew nothing I was never told I was hired as a maid the ladies went aside and whispered and even the elder lady told me nothing how am I going to start unless they tell me. However that day the first day went awfully I slept hungrily because they were six people and now I'm the seventh the dinner was not enough for me probably because I have not eaten lately.

The second day began and the ladies went to the market together we the kids were  left home and I don't remember if I ate breakfast that day all I remember was I was still  starving, there was  a leftover food in a bowl and I really wanted to eat it so badly but the boy stopped me so I left them. I mean what is the point in staying with them  since I don't know who the people were? why was I with them? and what am I supposed to do with this hunger? Damn it. I left, do I care about the money I mean it will be a month and probably I'll be gone back to nomad before I get paid so I don't care about the job I just want something to eat.

Whatever the elder lady's reason was she was supporting I believe there is a story behind her reasons and support I wish I know but unfortunately, I never saw her again . and I'm grateful that she brought me to the town and found me a job with someone she know and trust.

The Arabic Schools

Madrasas are known as  Islamic schools however I call it arabic schools or arabic language schools because the only language they teach  is arabic they don't teach math, science, geography, history or anything else but the so called holy scripts aka Quran, hadeth and arabic alphabets.

I have been attending the arabic schools approximate  four years and I learnt  nothing but Quran and arabic alphabets I used to attend in the morning and in the afternoon twice everyday saturday through thursday fridays were the only weekend for us, in the morning we recited the Quran and after that we were assigned to memories new verses of Quran for tomorrow the Ma'alin the madrasa teacher decided for us kids where we would start our tomorrow's Quranic verses and where to end and he will know if we skipped some for example he assigned us  five verses of quran but we read only three  he'll know  sometimes he mark with a pencil sometimes he have that precious brain to remember every kid's assignment as every student have his/her verses of Quran

WE were not taught of what the Quran or the verses we're reciting means or what our religion is or the history of Islam nothing just that the quran is the God's spoken words and that we must not tore, drop on the ground if it accidentally falls on the ground we must kiss, and we must maintain the cleanliness of the Quranic book  because it's holy. We were taught not to question about God and his work before we question about God we must question how we came to this world and how the world is created and that Islam is the correct religion because God spoke himself to Mohammad.

I have seen so many people who finish the Quran more than once they would start from the beginning again and again for (hifz) memorizing of the whole Quran it's like attending to  school  multiple times with same course of study and never getting a degree however the more they read Quran and memorize the more they grow western hating  religious  the girls who  used to wear  lightweight shawls and normal dira a  large gown worn by muslim women who never prayed and have not read Quran before start wearing burqas and eventually end up  wearing the face veils (Niqab) same as  boys start from   normal pants and shirts to thawbs with kufis Islamic skull cap.

Those kids don't want to go madrasas but what choice they have. they're forced to go by their parents and even if they skip or refuse they're punished. the Ma'alin himself have the  beats the students even if the parents didn't give him the permission it's  obligatory for madrasa Ma'alins to beat the students if they fail to read Quran or show  bad behaviors. I have seen Ma'alin beating students with his belt, with sticks,  I have seen kids being carried from their homes to the madrasas  by other students because he/she refused to go to the madrasa, I have seen Ma'alins ordering  2-4 of his oldest and strongest students to held a poor boy's arms and legs and he whipped the boy's butt, I have seen Ma'alin letting the students lay down on the heat for hours,  I have seen Ma'alin punishing student to bent over  their heads low, cross  their arms in the back of their their leg and insert their index fingers in their ears he then whipped and told them keep going in half an hour,I have seen ma'alins whipping kids' palms till the skin went off of the palms,there were stories of kids locked in the madrasa till they accept their fate and start attending to the madrasa regularly,  I have seen parents in line to report their kids to the Ma'alin for doing bad behaviors or refusing to come to the madrasa or not recite in the Quran and the reason they come is to report and tell the teacher to punish  them Those kids go madrasa because their power is taken away from them as I was taken away from mine when I was attending.

My own sisters and brother who were born and raised in Minnesota were radicals even they were too young and were  born and grew up in here somehow since each of them started Madrasa in MN at age 5  in weekends they would not watch kissing scenes on the T.V when the parents are around, They were skeptical with infidel visitors or anyone who is not wearing Islamic dress code or say Assalama aleykum Islamic greeting,, my 7 years old sister reported me to mother when she saw me talking with a white classmate on the video phone  I mean it's unbelievable to me to see my 7 years old sister who was born and grew up  in a country with diversities   is reporting me for talking to white people, and they were punished by whipping them with belts, wooden spoons,shoes  and  cords

Those kids from poor families aren't able to attend schools their parent would rather pay them to go madrasas than elementary schools because they think that sending the kids to madrasa will benefit them in here and hereafter  than sending them to normal schools, in my opinion madrasas or any religious schools shouldn't be funded instead the children should be sent to schools and funded to those who can't afford.  

Lost my birth date

As I grew up in nomad where all I did was herd the family animals, fetch fire woods, cook dinner, milk and feed the little ones, fetch water from the wells in  nearby or far distance villages, respond granny's calls and do her demands, dig deep on the ground in search of tree roots and cut the grass during rain seasons to wave when it dries and build a  dome-shaped hut, and so on..

I never knew what a  birth date was, I have been asked my age and most of  my responds were I don't  know only times that grandma told me my age was the time I respond as she told me without knowing if it was really the  correct age or she just picked a number out of tiny air since she was an uneducated  illiterate just  like I was.

Out there in my country people don't care much about age or birth date all they ask is YOUR TRIBE/BLOODLINE when a stranger approached  she/he  asked which family I'm from and when  I pointed my tiny finger to our hut and told him/her (that family) then they start   asking about my clan, sub-clan etc. instead of my name, age or anything else.

Even after we moved in a town and I attended school I yet never learned what is a birth date or age, and when I came to the states I didn't understand  in the earlier until 2011 almost 2  years  of my arrival well, I was fed up seeing this date on every paperwork and documents but yet I never asked what is it? and why is it always written next to my name?  so I had to think what is it, I finally understood. Oh mm, this  is the  month I was born, this is the day I was born and this is the year I was born talking to myself. Who else should I ask? I had to figure it out by myself.

As time passed  I joined the social media such as facebook and started talking with people on facebook since I didn't have friends to hang out with most of the time those somali people were asking my age and when I responded they asked. Are you sure it's your real age??? because we know most somalis come to west with fake  age. at  first I knew it of course but I never imagined using  one of those  fabricated  age.

I have been stressing with this in several years because I was scared how will I find out and where will I find it out? My mother and I had no good relationship and most of all I didn't like talking to her unless it's about the kids or the family otherwise I didn't want to talk with her about my birth date.

But one day I dared to ask, I told myself. Whatever it takes give it a try,  so I sent a text asking mom if this is my  correct birth date.

The response was. No. Angry but excited to hear the real birth date. What is it then? I asked. Um May 13th 1989. Thank you I said and  thought it was true but few minutes there was another text. Oops I mean May 13th 1988. OK I said and I decided to try dad's side and see if I can find out the correct date but dad sent me a text saying it was Feb 27th 1989 then he changed response  and told me another date again.

Frustrated with my both parents for  changing their responses I texted mom  again still scared but eager to hear it. I explained  her about  what dad said and I told her I want to  know my real birth date but mom was angry yelled at me as I was expecting her to yell at me. Why did you ask him? he is sane he doesn't remember anything  and why is  age important to you? Why did you gave me this birth date I asked?  I gave you this, I subtracted 2 years from your real age  so you could  obtain education like you did. You got your high school diploma. Didn't you? what is eating you then? I did it for you. You see Aisha's daughter Faiza is crying asking her mother why didn't she make her young so she could be eligible for   high school. After this things were  out of my effort so I decided to just stop it.

I still want to know of course but I don't know where and how am I going to  find it out, it's also not that easy believing my parents after what they did. There was a vital record that mom handed me in 2007 when she visited us in Ethiopia and like I said birth date was something never been on my mind before 2011 so I have never looked the date on the record a brown  old small sheet which mother tore after a week due of her being afraid I might give it to the embassy because she filled with false information with my visa process   and   doing this would be complicated with the information she gave to the embassy.

I don't know what was her reasons of giving me a false birth date but I don't agree of her excuses of giving me the opportunity to get high schools, I mean all the immigrants are eligible for free education even if they are older than  elementary, middle or high school ages   we are still  eligible for adult educations where we can study GET instead of high school diploma and begin   colleges, and this is not something that I'm proud of walking around and telling the world what I'm not actually but I have to live with it for now.

It would not matter if they forgot the day or the month of my birth but the year matters to me, I mean how can both parents simply forget or confuse  the year they had their  first child. I'm the first born of my both parent, however the bright side is that I can tell something when asked my age unlike the old days that I was very embarrassed of not knowing my own age. I'm also confused if this is that my parent completely forgot my birth date or they just got confused and lastly  know there are people just like me who don't know their real ages and birth dates so welcome to the club.

My deafinity won't diminish me

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.

The long letter that I sent to uncle

Uncle, I have something to say to you I could say it after the dinner but I wanted to talk to you only at first so I just nodded of whatever was said during our brief meeting.

As you know in my childhood I was in nomad with ayeeyo (grandma) the only thing I liked in nomad that kept me alive was the herds especially the lambs and the goat kids  we always formed a great human-animal  bonding   that I never had with any human being, I used to chase them around, talk to them, laugh at them when they munch the grass, carry them, kiss them, snuggle them and comfort myself  with their soft fur. I may blamed them whenever I get hurt, whipped them, cursed them, and hurt them as revenge but I always  loved being around them more than being around human.

And as I grew I come to realize that I had no relationship with human being, not grandma, not uncles, not aunt, not cousins no one just the animals I was always alone with them hungry,tired, thirst, we went long journeys everyday for pasture, we rested under big Acacia tree shade during the noon,then we marched to home together, I drunk their milk, I ate their meat, I rubbed their butter on my rough and dry  skin.

Now let's change the subject. When it come to people they were always nagging,yelling,cursing,beating,letting me starve all day,throwing things on me, bounded me under trees or inside our hut, burned my body for no reason, always accusing me of  sexual assault, calling me fool/nerd, humiliating me around other people who are not my family, chained my ankles together and forced me  to keep herding the animals and who do you think these are?

They're the only people I would call family grandma being the number one or  the mastermind or gives the permission to whoever wants to hurt me, uncles being the mama's boys, aunt being always grandma's side and the cousins being the spoiled brats and that is my nomad life.

After we moved to Burao I was hoping life would get better since the animals were not there I thought the abuse would get better but nothing changed. And as you know I have been running away for years because I didn't feel safe in the place where I once called home I was beaten constantly, I was tied under tree and left there in hours, half day or all day which I  once almost lost my wrists, I was chained like a hobbled camel several solid months of not having one single break day from it and I had to endure the sound of the clanging chain tied from my ankles to my waist as the chain was too long for my tiny ankles, I slept with it, I ate with it, I bathed with it,I herded the animals with it and everybody stared at me some walked faster past me while some stood there and stared, some dared to come to me and ask me am I  mentally ill, some assumed I'm crazy person and left.

And one afternoon I was with the maqal the  lambs and the goat kids when granny spotted the maqal but not me, she  came to the maqal and saw me sitting near them, talking with Ayaan Ahmed Umal Ogle however she took the maqal home and I knew something was wrong so I didn't go after her instead I asked Ayaan to take me to her home and give me water as I was thirsty  after I drunk the water her mother told Ayaan's sister Asia to take me home and I went with hoping granny might  cool down and forgive me because I did nothing wrong the maqal were unharmed and they were close to me when granny took them. However after Asia brought me to granny she secretly gestured to  Asia to hold me for her and then the next thing was after Asia disappeared she called cousin Amina to get her a rope and a burning fire wood, once Amina brought the things  she bounded my arms together on my back, knocked me at the ground, pulled off my pant and burned both  sides of my pussy between the thigh  joints  and labia majoras, the pant was put on back and I was tied under a nearby tree were I spent the next  several hours but there was one disaster during the burn a burning charcoal broke off from the wood and it remained inside my butt cheeks were it burned during the stand up hours until it shut itself off I stood there in the whole evening scared of the  desert Lions, hungry Hyenas, Leopards, Snacks or whatever would love my  little flesh, I waited, waited and waited for someone to come and set me free so I could at least take the charcoal off but nobody come uncle kayse and Abdillahi Yussuf joined and after dinner tea party started with laugh and chat so it took hours until Kayse realized that I was not there and questioned my presence and he is the one who sent Amina to free me but ordered to tie me under the hut in the whole night until tomorrow so he could cut me into two pieces fortunately she didn't so I slept hungry and suffering from the untreated burn and the next day Amina was told to take me with the herds untreated the heat was terribly hot and the burn got worse which I couldn't even walk with it that is when Dhool Ahmed's daughter in-law faadumo  told Amina to tell granny do treat the wounds.

Or that day when Granny ordered Kayse to tie me inside the hut and everybody left with the herds the rope was too tight, too painful, my wrists swell, felt numb and senseless, I could not sit or lay down because the rope was tied above my head and all I could do was stand, so from 9AM to 5PM I was standing inside the hut screaming for help but there were  no one to come to  help, just to simply help, then at noon finally Ayaan came, I begged her to give me water, but what she gave me was not enough and there was no water at home, but then kayse comes while I was begging Ayaan which he slapped, kicked and told me if I say another word he'll cut me into pieces and that Ayaan was better than me so I must not say her name from my filthy  mouth again, then he took a large cub of ciir milk with few table spoons of sugar and went  to the Acacia tree next to the hut where Ayaan and granny joined nobody came to check on me or seemed concerned and I could not say a word because Kayse will beat me and an hour later  everybody left again. When I was finally free my arms were double in size, my wrists  skin removed  and today I still bear the last scar and the next day local kids were bullying me because I had no arms to defend myself, no hand to eat, no hand to clean after bathroom.

Granny and Osman held knives on my throat threatening me that they'll slaughter me, Kayse used to put his feet with  his thorny shoes on my head and he used to beat me whenever,wherever and however he wishes, he used to catch me when I run away from granny who was always wielding a large stick to whip me, and my cousins including Amina and Ayaan did their part in all of the terrible abuses. Amina had strangulation habits and one day I almost fainted because she went too far while strangling me or Ayaan being the bad cousin who always accused me of everything she did or told  grandma lies  to get me grounded.

The only ones I felt safe being around  was  you and aunt Farhiya, somehow I lost trust  with Farhiya later in life as she chose to only be on granny's side, no matter how unfair or wrong grandma was, she always supported her, so I lost hope from in trusting her and as you remember whenever grandma yelled, cursed or tried to nag me you always stopped her and she really listened you very well and that's one reason I always felt safe around you unfortunately I feel like being bad luck, because I never spent a lot of great times around  you,  it was always short visits  then sadly  you were gone in a week or less.

But all those times I only had hope that kept me being alive and that was I thought I had a lovely mother somewhere that I'll meet someday however that nightmare was shattered during our brief meeting in Ethiopia in 2007 but I still had another hope and that was if I come to the States there would be no more abuse somehow that was a fool's nightmare when the first abuse started within the 2nd week of my arrival call it a welcome abuse after that my life was only babysitting, doing home chores and going to school and when I was at home not babysitting I buried myself in my room because there was no one I could talk mom didn't like talking to me and the kids were driving me crazy around they were too young to make friend and since I had no friend because I was a home prisoner there was no one to talk, when I was depressed, when I was sad, when I was angry, when I was frustrated, when I was hurt, nobody was there to care  about me not mom or step father. When things are bad between me and my mother my mother  never come to solve our dispute, I don't know if it's that she doesn't want to talk to me or that she doesn't know how to solve our dispute as a mother and daughter instead  she always run to Abdirahman or the neighbors  to convince me and settle down the dispute so Abdirahman was our counselor during that time I hated everybody at home the kids for being so stubborn and brats, Abdirahman for only solving the current dispute not the up comings  in the future dispute, and mom for not being the mother she  needed to be, standing up for her daughter in an abusive situation, yes it may be our culture, but that doesn't make it right or correct in anyway.

However I still had One last hope that kept me alive, and it was that I would get married and leave them,  as time passed I realized, that If I marry a somali man nothing would get better, so I had to see the other side and this is what led me to marry Adam. It's not only, because I love him it's also I feel safe around him I feel supported instead of judged, shamed I feel respected, loved and cared for, by him and his family and I have never felt like that, not by anyone in the Ismail family.

During the brief visit you and mom asked me to stay in touch with the family I wanted to speak with you, but Adam is still learning sign language and he couldn't interpret and mom was here so I decided to just nod saying OKAY, so I chose to send you this long email.

You said to forget everything in the past and move on with a new life, well let me say it's not really that easy to simply forget the past, and move forward with a new life past is what makes the history, and what happened in the past will always be remembered, in my situation, you asking me to erase a book and write a completely new one because it's in my heart, not just my mind. Whenever I think of Granny I see her as the only person that I once used to call ayeeyo, who had no little human feelings for me I mean only me. The question is, why was I different? yes different, from the other Ismail offspring? granny raised Mohamed, Nimo,Amina,Ayaan and Abdifatah beside me and none of them went through what I went through not my generations just me so in my heart there is no Granny I don't know what should I call but I can't call her granny she didn't earn love from me and I'm sorry to say it but I really can't pretend what I'm really not and I can't cut off my heart and put a new fresh heart so I can love and forgive her or cut of my brain so I can forget the past I can't abti but I can life with it forever it's who I'm it's my story and everybody have a story too.

But for now if you want me to be part of Reer Ismail I can be, but under one condition, and only ONE condition, I want everyone to stop abusing kids it includes FGM, beating, forcing the kids to do something that they don't want something that is against their Will, forcing them on  marriage,honor killing of course reer Ismail value family honor a lot more than valuing your child that's why grandma hurt me so inhumane and this is what mom is doing now however I can't be that daughter who will do everything for the family's name and if my mother chooses the honor of her forefathers over me  then I can't be that daughter so the only option is disown me I'll be just the lost girl forever.

I'm not  making  or giving rules, I'm setting healthy boundaries, I have suffered enough pain and I don't want to be around people who make me fear them and where I don't feel safe. I don't want to remember those horrible memories and most of all, I will not let Juliet grow up in that environment, with those kind of people,  I couldn't and can't talk to mom about this because we never had a good relationship and I know she will never listen to me, so if you could talk to her about this that would be great, and please tell her that before I met her, grandma used to say your mother is toxic than me and she would not have  you in a day she would slaughter you at the moment she sees you and now whenever I look at my mom I remember those words I mean their toxicity  is similar but granny was more fearless, more cruel  with no  sympathy for me.

Anyway I'm not yet recovered from the trauma in my life, and I don't know when will I recover, I might never recover, but in my life now, after being mentally, physically, verbally and emotionally abused in the past I can't continue taking more of this and that's why I run away from mom during the winter 2013 and it's why I wore my old dress which I bought months before my engagement, it's why I didn't have the wedding every girl dreams of because I wanted a family who loves, cares, supports and understand me and that is Adam and his family my wedding dream dead because it was either I had to wait him to save up money few more years to have my dream wedding and live in that horrible abusive place or wear my old normal dress and get out of that place. I was never happy in any of my family's home not with granny, not with mom, not with Kayse no where but nobody cared whether I was happy or unhappy, or what makes me happy or unhappy.

I wish there was a time machine so I could go back and undo whatever happened but there is none and this is and will always be part of me so instead of blaming me for everything, I mean EVERYTHING include the running away, include cutting the contact with the family and forgiving them to me forgiveness is not bought  or  free it's earned. Could you forgive that person who put your flesh on  fire and never looked back until the neighbors told to do so? Could you forgive that person who bounded your arms at 9AM and never looked back till the evening? Could you forgive that person who come toward you angry when you finally come home from herding the animals all day hungry, thirsty and exhausted and instead of being proud who unzipped your pant, pulled it down, opened your labia minoras with her thumbs and looked around the vagina as if she was examining something then  walked away without saying a word about it? the list goes forever  those I mentioned are not the only what happened they're the examples and the most unforgettable. I'm just saying Ayeeyo didn't earn forgiveness from me and if mom takes the same path grandma did then she'll lose my forgiveness too.

I'm working on a way to live with all the past memories in a way that it doesn't sabotage my future so if reer Ismail want me to be part of them then change should come from them I need a supportive family it doesn't mean support me for whatever bad or good I did or do it means I need a family who is there for me when I need them, who cares about each other not just only me but every family member, a family who understands why I did or do something and why things happened, a family who is committed to each other not a family who stick to cleanse their forefathers name to honor them, I need a family who is encourageous , a family who is not afraid of  what other people say about them or don't mind what the world think about them, a family who wants what is best for me not a family who wants what is best for themselves, I need a family who respect what I believe not a family who wants to force me to believe, I need a family who shows love not a family who says YOU SHOULD KNOW HOW I FEEL FOR YOU. And this is the only way I can be around and I don't expect that change will occur very soon but if they really want to change then they have to find a way to make things better but if nobody is willing I can't make them change better.

I'm planning to move on and become an artist but I can't have a family who will bush me around telling me drawing living thing is against their faith so I must not do, I want to became a writer and I can't have a family yelling at me asking why I shared my personal stories or family secrets etc, I was never treated  like someone worthy of something only the crazy little girl who doesn't even remember what she ate last night, in my whole life I was told to be like my somali peers who had husbands, children and run their own families but now for being a wife and mother I feel like I missed so many things  my none somali peers are teachers, professors, doctors, famous billionaires, space engineers, musicians, and so on but I missed all of them I have no talent, I lost my self esteem very long time ago and I don't know if I can gain  it back.

When it come to my father he abandoned me I don't know the reason my parents divorced, the reason he gave me away, the reason he never come looking for me.I lived in his back yard North Somalia his trip would take a day but he never cared about me and now he wants me to bond a wonderful father-daughter relationship but this is not going to happen, I'm not asking him to explain why he never come looking for me or why he threw me away I just want him to understand how I felt being abandoned and I'm not taking revenge I'm just teaching him lessons so he don't do this to the other kids, about mom I know she risked her life when she took a boat  from the port city of Berbera to Sana'a Yemen and then from middle east to America and it's not an easy journey I wish to know the story but I know one thing that she experienced so many obstacles, hardships and faced so many brick walls to break through but this doesn't make me feel loved, cared or supported and it never was, I'm grateful that she worked so hard to bring me here and I know that she blames herself for now since I left Islam and cut the contact but bringing me to America is not the problem I was never a true muslim I was wearing the hijab because everybody wore it and I never fasted full month of Ramadan, or prayed because I never loved the faith and as the Quran said to be a true muslim love your God, your prophet, the quran and love everything about it but I never liked a bit of it, I prayed so grandma would not keep yelling,cursing and telling everyone that I don't pray, I did it to keep her quiet and wore hijab as well for her.but none of it was from my heart and now I can't life pretending what I'm not actually so if my mom thinks disowning me for leaving Islam is the only solution it's not, it won't bring me back to the religion again it will only ruin everything.

Sorry about the long email I always wanted someone in Ismail family to talk about this but nobody was listening I hope you'll read this email not skip half of it because I talked crab about my family but it's important to me, and know that I'm not taking revenge of what happened to me and I don't hate anybody but I hate what they did and I hate it that they're still doing it the abuse it's  cultural norms to them but not to me anymore I used to beat my sisters, my brother and my younger cousins because I thought it was normal and this is what every abused child thinks. my last word is that I can't forget and forgive because those things are swirling on my mind all the time when I'm sitting on the bus, at work, watching movie, reading books, or whatever I'm doing I find myself being absent minded during the flashbacks my eyes staring blank space unblinkingly  motionless and  my mind gone back to the times it happened and I feel like it happened yesterday. How will I forget? I'm saying that I can life with it with your support and understandings but if my family thinks I'm playing a game and plays their part then it will get worse. I was never told I love you not mom, not granny, not uncles, not aunt not cousins non in reer Ismaciil so today I don't know how to love parents my dad was never there so was mom but when we finally met instead of getting to know each other and building a relationship it was all about fight and I always felt unwanted and I used to ask myself why was I born? Why was I  raised? I used to ask myself who am I? Why is the whole country so cruel? however there was never an answer. Mom never called me daughter or hooyo whatever you call I don't know if she think I'm too old  to be loved or if it's that she have no love for me who knows, I just need a mother not a caretaker. You know how envious I'm whenever I see mother and daughter who are  not even like mother and daughter but like best friends.

don't want the girls to be circumcised Gudniin because it's horror our bodies are made for purpose and cutting children's body parts  alive will haunt them always just like it haunts me.
And tell her that I know that she blames Adam for me leaving the faith, not wearing Islamic dress and not contacting to them just know that it's not his decision, it's mine we're not married for religion or purpose we're married because we love each other and we respect each other he is still muslim and I'm not our believe doesn't bother us so instead of blaming someone or finding excuses know that people are and will never be the same, we learn something then we change, good people become bad people and bad people become good people because we're human and humanity is not perfection. I might be the first infidel, Ismail offspring who married ajnabi and completely changed as if she slept and woke up being completely a new person I mean I changed so quick it's not that because I sacrificed my  worldly dreams for my family yet they were never satisfied with me. You know when you spent your entire youth hood in a prison and now you're finally free like a bird flew out of it's cage you feel like you have very little time to catch up the world that's why I changed within a year.