The plan was to go to the Dhakool family in the village that I previously knew however it didn't go as I thought it would because once we arrived at the Dhakool family's compound and naively told that we are looking for the Dhakool family we were asked the tribe of the Dhakools but this wasn't something we had in mind or expected nor knew so I told myself that is not bad at all I could just guess, it sounded a good idea to guess their tribe and I told that we are looking for the Dhakools of the guessed tribe but it wasn't the correct tribe so we were kicked out and told the Dhakools we are looking for is the compound across the dusty line which I for sure knew that they were not the Dhakools I was looking for. But what could I do? And it doesn't matter because it would be our lose if we came all the way for them fortunately they were not the reason behind our journey so I led Ayaan to the exact compound that the Dhakools told us I knew they were not but since the Dhakools are this mean who only welcomes those who know their tribe we would not mind looking shelter from another villager.
Before we arrived at the compound we saw a girl leaving the same compound we were heading so we stopped her to ask if they know the Dhakools. She told us those who kicked us are the Dhakools so I told her that they laid pretending that I didn't know them before the girl told us that she know a family member of the Dhakools who owns a small shop that she was heading. Excited a little we followed the girl as she led us to a long paved road and the other side of this road was a small shop owned by the youngest Dhakool whom Ayaan and I both knew in nomad she lived with her grandmother and helped with the animals. Her name was Khadra but we called her Gurayo (A nickname for the left handed females) Miss Gurayo welcomed us in her shop brought spaghetti with stew. Khadra was laying on a mattress in her little shop and some other girls were selling the products from the customers I was thinking why is she acting like a Queen? Get up Miss. Gurayo and sell your damn shop yourself. I mean we were the same bush girls but now she is laying here like sleeping beauty doing nothing, that can't be Khadra can't be as lazy as this shop owner, as we ate our tasty spaghetti Ayaan stopped half way because the shop's door was open and there were couple guys sitting side of the highway in front of the restaurant chatting they didn't even glance at us but Ayaan was not comfortable to eat anymore. Well then more spaghetti for me I don't care about the men sitting there enjoying their chat and food I was starving and had nothing to lose but Ayaan it was her choice not to continue her dinner.
After the dinner Khadra sent us to the Dhakool-Compound well they were surprised that we somehow found Khadra but who cares we won so we got our dinner and shelter finally! we slept with one of the Dhakool girls and in the morning we helped her with the breakfast as she made the Injera we made the tea for her and got breakfast and left for our 3rd day of the trip. As we left the village walking on the side of the long paved road slowly watching out the cars and trucks quietly because neither me nor Ayaan was talkative, we hardly said anything in the past two days and nights after a while on our roadside walk we saw a blue high-density polyethylene bag those with the hand held. Inside of it was what seemed like injera with tea and it was hanging from an Acacia tree branch, Ayaan turned and snatched it from the branch saying its injera the small flat somali breakfast pancake with tea. She then took a handful of it and ate she offered me but I knew it was a vomit. Who would leave a bagful of tasty breakfast hanging on a roadside tree? Somalia is a poor country where its inhabitants die of starvation and nobody throws food around even if the person doesn't want the food they offer it to another person and since Somalia is a muslim country Islam teaches its believers not to waste food because they believe that the food is one of the greatest gifts from God and wasting it angers him but sharing is blessing. there are even hadeth that says the prophet Mohammad said if a piece of meat falls on the ground. Don't waste it, pick it up, wipe out the dirty and eat it, the point is that I still can't figure out if Ayaan knew that it was actually a puke and ate it out of starvation and was embarrassed to admit that it was a puke or she for sure thought that it was a mixture of injera and tea. She cut me off when i tried to tell her that its not what is saying. And the irony is that last night she refused to eat our delicious spaghetti and stew just because two random dudes were sitting yards away busy chatting not even paying attention to us. But now she is eating a food that already digested.
As the village vanished from our sight and the road looked unsafe for us to walk we decided to walk behind the trees where the passing vehicles don't see us, it was still morning when we arrived another small village called Ununley driving distance is 3km from Kirit to Ununley about 3 minutes to drive but 41 minutes for us to walk but the village was vacant all of the small shop doors and windows were shut, and nobody was there other than the passing vehicles. We saw a herd of goats/sheep at a nearby Baraag/barkad a huge square-shaped underground hole used for water storage although it was spring time and the animals didn't need water but in this village it seemed there was no enough rain to grow pasture for the animals this is why the villagers vacated the village to find better pasture for their animals. Ayaan wanted to go to the Barkad so we went and she quickly befriended with the girl along with a man but me, I stood outside waiting her to finish talking with the stranger. So apparently Ayaan is not as quiet as I thought, we have been together 2 night and 2 1/2 day and she hardly said word to me but now as soon as she saw a peer girl out there she run all the way to talk to the complete stranger for 10 minutes while I stood there waiting.
The morning turned into a noon and the noon turned into afternoon and we were still walking on the roadside however as we went far into rocky hills and small mountains with no food or water Ayaan made it this far with the puke she ate and few sips of water she had with the stranger girl otherwise she would have collapsed already but for me I was used to it. At late afternoon we finally reached a much bigger village that means this was the last village to stop because the next village is our destination although Ayaan have to go another city if she wants to see her grandma, uncle and the rest of her relative but for me I had no one so where should I be going. This village was called Beer the driving distance between Ununley and Beer 14.7km about 12 minutes drive, it doesn't show the walking distance this village was famous with having the best ophthalmologist. As we came closer we could see so many white tents outside the village like a refugee camp but it was not a refugee camp it was patient tents the reason why this ophthalmologist was so popular was that the rumors said that he studied in the west, went back home and opened an eye clinic where all the villagers, the nomads and even the city dwellers whoever had eye sight issues flooded hoping that he brought some miracle from the west to cure their eyes. I admit my grandma was one of them who had an unsuccessful eye operation.
We abandoned the highway and went to the village which was on the east side of the highway and we asked a resident some water and proceeded heading to the check point on the highway, the plan was to go to the check point and ask the soldiers to put us on one of those passing vehicles but we know they would refuse to do so we only had to try but on the way before we left the village walking slowly on a dusty lane to the check point we heard a voice saying HABLAHOW (Hey girls) we looked at the direction where the voice came from and we saw a young woman on her late teen or early 20s standing inside a tree branches fence looking at us then she said, come in. we went in that stranger's home she was kind person and she told us. I can see that you guys have been on a long trip, I can see how exhausted and starving you guys, please sit, we sat under her corrugated iron sheet room shade on a plastic woven mat, she served us dried orange juice powder mixed with water and sugar along with a small meal for us to tie our bellies until dinner while she prepare the dinner. She had a new born infant who I think was a few days old and also there was a teenage male in another room separate from hers, I don't think he is the father he seemed to be younger than her and was helping her around. She told us to sleep over with her in her room the night and in the early morning go to the check point so the soldiers can put us on the trucks. of course if the soldiers put us on a truck the driver won't charge us money but I wasn't sure if the soldiers would do that but again we had to try.
As we approached the check point and it was still dark, the sun didn't rise yet before we reached the soldiers' camp where they sit when there are no cars although nobody was there at the time because they were still sleeping maybe one was awake but at the time there was nobody around. A woman called us and told us to stay in her cafe until she finds us someone who can help us. This woman killed our hope about the soldiers finding us free rides I mean the soldiers' camp was the opposite side of the the highway but she never told us to go there and ask them to help us nor did she went to ask them for us, This woman for sure was using us as her little helpers we washed her dish, we raked her cafe and helped her cook the lunch she served tea and rice but that day her business was not blooming there were few men who came in her cafe but most of them didn't order anything and left quick, I believe she wanted us to stay in her cafe so we can attract the men and they would come flooding in her little cafe but well nobody attracts two shepherders sitting there, staring around ignorantly with Owlish eyes . Ayaan and I were both shy so we each wrapped one hand on one end of our shawls and then covered it on our mouths so all the men could see was our Owlish eyes.
After we finished helping the woman with breakfast and ate some we then started helping her with the lunch a huge pot of long grain rice cooked with vegetables we call it red rice it slightly becomes red when added the tomato paste and other vegetables she made it for the clients she didn't have kids around or anyone at the time. During the late morning a neighbor of hers came to her cafe and asked Ayaan and me to help her haul some chopped thorn tree branches at nearby trees, Ayaan refused but I said OK. I didn't see there is no why help a stranger with no promise in return and refuse another?This cafe owner only said she'll ask her clients if they know us other than that she was not going to help us get past this village. I went with the other stranger, she chopped couple branches and asked me to carry the smallest one which was perfect for my age to carry, after I dropped the branch at her home I went back to the cafe to find Ayaan eating a plateful of the red rice , she ate it all. I couldn't believe how quick the woman gave Ayaan lunch it was not even noon yet and when I left the food was on the fire brazier anyway I hoped to have a plateful of the mighty red rice too but that didn't happen the woman punished me for helping the other stranger, maybe she doesn't like her neighbor I don't know nor do I care she didn't let me eat until late afternoon that day and I even asked. Can I have lunch? But she told me later somehow she didn't let me eat.
Not that only this woman took advantage of us by helping her around in her little cafe but also her clients were rude, very RUDE and creepy as well, one guy a young man came at noon and she asked him. Do you recognize these girls? He asked our tribe but um he didn't know and when she told him that we run away from our families he said I would love to take one to my home. For marriage? she asked. No to help us around, apparently everyone wanted tiny helping hands free of charge but this creepy guy who wanted to take one of us to his mother or wife so we can be their shepherders but not want to marry us was something new to me especially a man wanting a barely teenage girl to be his family's animal keeper. The worst was the cafe owner's water delivery man who came at noon with his huge water truck, he was a big guy whose belly equivalent to an eight months pregnant mother of twins, his teeth as orange as the orange fruit itself some of his teeth broken and others blackened by the Khaat. He was chewing bunch of Khat the Kenyan plant that most somali men chew, after we finished cleaning and emptying the water storage that was made of concrete bricks he sat in the cafe ordered an extra sweet tea that is used for the Khat and while he was chewing his Khat talking like psycho. his cafe owner water client asked him if he can recognize us but instead of answering if he knows us or not he all of the sudden asked us? Are you looking for men? Ayaan and I were speechless,we didn't know what to say we were taught that those things are unspeakable especially from woman to man and since we were young we didn't know the right word to answer this man's stupid question, for a while we just looked on the ground not wanting to look at him or the other men sitting there listening this stupid guy Ayaan didn't say a word but I said NO. Well, he said if a young girl runs away from her family she is looking for a man. So are you? No I replied again then he finally left.
As the day turned into afternoon yet I still had no lunch, I had mixed feelings, I was angry to the woman whom I been working from the sunrise to almost sunset for free and yet she didn't allow me to eat, I was also angry to myself for abandoning the plan and having faith on this woman's word of asking her clients if they can recognize us, and I was upset that we had to sleep over in this same village that we slept last night But I couldn't take Ayaan beyond this village on foot the closer we come into crowded areas the danger it gets we had to get a ride or go back home, there will be flocks of young boys out there ahead of us who will do anything they wish to two coward teenagers who won't lift a finger to defend themselves, its not that we were cowards to defend ourselves its that we never learned anything about self defense all we learned was how to hurl lyrics of insults onto our peer girls as a self defense not physical fight but verbal insult that is usually about mother or the sister of the opponent we would dance and sing songs of insults toward the other girl's mother or sister that her mother o her sister is a slut whom we witnessed being fucked etc. And we were taught that a man is twice stronger than a woman and that we can't fight them if they intend to hurt us. The only way to protect ourselves is to wear hijab and stay at home, I don't believe that Hijab is a protective materials no matter how a woman dress the bad man knows where the precious is. Hijab is not a chastity belt but most Somalis see it as one.
It was late afternoon when a mysterious young man came to the cafe as I was hopeless about leaving this village today he was dressed nice and was very polite unlike the creepy guy in the morning and the rude big bellied water truck driver, this guy was the 3rd guy she asked if he can recognize us, he asked us our tribe then our bloodline and as I started from my grandpa and continued to many great,great and great grandpas he still couldn't not well we came from many miles how can he know us. However this guy was a wise young man and since he doesn't know our bloodlines. he didn't simply say I don't know them and leave but he told us to tell him someone who is relative and more recognizable meaning famous. Um who could that be we are just nomads. we are not rapers, actors or wealthy business people. How will he recognize bush people that he never saw or heard? I had to think someone in the bloodline who would be as famous as this guy suggests Ayaan never said a single word, I wasn't only her guide but also the spokesperson, For a while I was quiet until I got the perfect idea at lease I thought it was perfect, its weird but all the grandpas and great grandpas in my mother's bloodline are died except one man who was still alive at the time of our journey His name was Abdi Harun Ali and my grandpa was Ismail hirsi Ali so this Abdi and my grandpa have same grandpa the Ali and the reason this Mr. Harun was famous was because he was the only living Ali offspring male of his generation funny thing is that all the wives include my grandma were alive that time but all the grandpas except Abdi died. (The only surviving heir to the Ali throne.). Just kidding we don't own throne at all.
The guy was pleased to know that Abdi Harun is our bloodline and he asked me what is the other girl's relationship to Mr. Harun. I said let me introduce you this is my distance cousin Ayaan the daughter of Ahmed the son of Umal the son of Ogle the son Of Ali that is how we state our bloodlines when asked so Ayaan's grandpa was one of the deceased generation of Abdi's from the Ali offspring. This stranger polite guy became more that kind man, he became our hero he told us as long as you're related to Abdi Harun I'm going to get you a car that will take you but we never said where we where going or wanted to go nor the polite stranger asked where do we want to go. He quickly arranged a free ride for us on a white Toyota Mark II that was already parked next to the soldiers' camp Toyota Mark II is the second smallest sedans used in Somalia after Toyota Grande. I can't tell if the was his's or if it was there for him or he paid the driver to take us who knows but thanks to this guy we were taken within 30 minutes and the cafe woman finally gave me my hard earned small plate of the mighty red rice.
Ayaan and I sat on the back seat of the Mark II and there were no other passengers on the car and the driver didn't ask where would he take us or where we wanted because the guy instructed him where to take us and who to take us to, we were taken to a small city called Yiroowe that is 11.1km about 9 minutes drive from Beer, as we enjoyed the views of the trees, termite mounds, animals and people rushing past us as the man drove fast on the highway we finally arrived a mid-sized city that is not either a small village or a big city, this city was good with the merchandise where the nomads sell their animals, milk and butter to trade food, clothes, and other goods. The driver stopped at a narrow passage between homes but not on the corner of the highway since there are no parking lots in my country he then led us through the narrow rocky lane this city was on mountain the Yiroowe mountains as we followed the driver we arrived at a small thorn branch fence inside was a corrugated iron sheet room along with few other huts and kitchens and in this home was an old man in his 70s, topless and was washing his clothes. we stood at the entrance as the driver went to talk to the man instructing him to take us to someone else the old man then grabbed a shirt and led us into another narrow passage those passages are only for one vehicle at a time since many somalis don't drive especially in small cities, The narrow passage led us to the highway and on the corner of that highway was another Ali relative who owned and operated a small tent where she sold Khat her name was Sahra and she was a daughter of another deceased grandson of Ali who was Abdi's generation.
Sahra took us to her home were we spent a week while she sent news to our village to let our families know that we are at her home safe, and after that my uncle came for me and Ayaan her father came for her, Ayaan went forward to Burco (Burao) the second largest city in Somaliland region after the capital itself 21.4km from Yiroowe about 29 minutes drive where her family lived and she spend one day with them, then the same afternoon we went back to the bushes.
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