I AM MOTHER SOMALIA
I AM IN TATTERS
I AM IN TEARS
I AM TORN APART
I AM MOTHER SOMALIA
I AM FED UP WITH CLANS
I AM FED UP WITH CLASHES
I AM FED UP WITH CONFERENCES
OH SOMALIS, OH MY PEOPLE
WHOSE COUNTRY AM I?
WHOSE SOIL AM I?
WHOSE LAND AM I?
FOES AND FRIENDS ALIKE
FEED ON ME TO THEIR FILL
THEY COLLECT FISH, FELL TREES
FERRY THEM AWAY
YOU SWAP VALUABLES
BUT RECEIVE TRASH IN RETURN
NARCOTICS AND ILLICIT DRUGS
EXPIRED FOOD AND MEDICINE
BULLETS AND MACHINE GUNS
ALL CONSTITUTE YOUR DAILY IMPORT
IS THAT A FAIR RECEPROCATE?
I AM MOTHER SOMALIA
BENEATH MY EXHAUSTED BODY
LIES A TERROR-RIDDEN SOUL
UNLIKE ANGOLA AND SIERRA LEONE
UNLIKE LIBERIA AND IVORY COAST
UNLIKE HAITI IN THE WILD SEAS
I SEE NO HELP IN THE HORIZON
I AM A VICTIM OF NEGLECT
BUT ALLAH IS GREAT
HE IS THE ONE WHO PROVIDES
HE IS THE ONE WHO DELIVERS
HE IS THE ONE WHO PROTECTS
Powerfully moving and thought-inciting. Thank you for this offering Abdi. Love and peace to you. Regis
Reviewed by Debashish Haar (Reader)
Reviewed on March 4, 2004
Very sad tale of a nation in tatters...Hope peace and normalcy returns to your homeland soon...Much love...Debashish
Reviewed by Simon Thurlow (Reader)
Reviewed on March 2, 2004
So little is known of the real Somalia to those outside it's borders. But with scribes such as you to enlighten us, we can catch a glimpse of what must be a living hell at times. I suspect that many other nations going through similar troubles would also see themselves in your words. Informative and creative write Abdi
Reviewed by fare good (Reader)
Reviewed on March 1, 2004
A nation that lives within the darkness of its own destruction, the poor man shall be the one who sits at the masters table and the rich man shall hold the door. Oh what is flesh when the spirit is the beholder of God. The savior who died upon the cross many cry, but the flesh felt the pain but the spirit lives beyond Gods arm. Let not the scars of the world dictate thy treasures. The dead is not dead the spirit lives on. Oh the mighty wisdom of thy God. Wisdom to know and the wisdom to apply. What a greatful spirit that lives beyond the sky. Life is death and death is life. Oh the nation of tears shall have no back door, for thy God is God alone. Let not the scars of the wound dictate the precious heart of the thrown, for God is the medicine for all. Faith and the transition of the savior who and still feel the same pain.
You are like the voice crying out in the wildreness Abdi!I pray it will be heard, and I share your sorrow, though I can never know what you go thorugh, I do know pain and loss so I can empathize with your sorrows.
A homonymless man writes shows what it's like to look up the laid he skirts when you’re lying prone(d) to the sidewalk, beer / joint / needle dangling from your hand /lips / arm.
South Baltimore serves as the backdrop for this gripping story of three brothers leading very different lives but joined forever by the secrets of a painful family past.
your voice shall be heard...and prayers answered. i pray for you every day, dear (((brother)))
powerful, heartwrenching write--well done
(((HUGS))) and love, karla. :(
((((HUGS)))) and much love, your friend in America, Karen Lynn in Texas. :( >tears <
Peace can return to your homeland...
this is so very sad...bless you...floria