THIS PIPING TIME OF PEACE IN SOMALIA

THIS PIPING TIME OF PEACE IN SOMALIA

After the speech

I did not hie home to Montreal

I decided

to linger on in Toronto

to gauge the mood of the Toronto Somali community

For a week I ate my favorite Somali breakfast

Liver onions finger peppers banana lime crepe

washed down

with gallons of piping hot spicy

Somali tea!

For a week I ate breakfast at

Istar Restaurant

owned & operated

by a fellow Abgal woman

married to a Habar Gidir fellow

whose mother is Rer Mahad!

They are assisted by an Amhara lady

who hails from the highlands of Ethiopia!

who reminded me of Coleridge and his

damsel with a dulcimer

In a vision once I saw:

It was an Abyssinian maid

And on her dulcimer she played

Singing of Mount Abora.

In that small and efficient business enterprise

I witnessed

I saw

I beheld

I espied

I scoped

I ogled

I smelled

I tasted

I ate

I masticated

I munched

I feasted upon the miracle

that can be accomplished when

all the clans

all the tribes

all the nations

of the horny Horn pull together…

HARAMBEE!!

For all of that week

I sought the company of

my Habar Gidir brothers & sisters

to bury the hatchet

to resurrect the Somali nation

to break together the bread of Peace called muffo

To sit together

Behold

how good

how pleasant

it is for Somali Hirab brethren

to sit together

in amity

in comity

in unity!

to break bread together in peace!

to dwell together in unity!

It is like the precious ointment upon the head,

that ran down upon the beard

even Aaron’s beard

that went down to the skirts of his garments

It is

as the dew of Hermon

as the dew

that descended upon the mountains of Zion:

for there the LORD commanded

the blessing even life for evermore.

I will never forget

the fellowship

the friendship

the fellow-feeling

the sharing

the jiving

the joshing

the jamming

the bantering

the bandaged badinage

of all of my Somali brothers & sisters

particularly of my

Habar Gidir brothers & sisters

punctuated

by the bon mots of

Colonel Abdulqadir X Galbetti

punctuated

by the sagacity

the sobriety of

Nasir A Baale

Late in one night I was so surprised to spot Omar Gaab

An Ill-Jeh brother in a Majerten joint

run by my friend, Mohamed Dahir & his wife

My Gidir friend totally disarmed me with

---Come here!

sit here, Togane!

Tell me how amazed you are to find me here!

Brother, now you know

you are not the only Darod lover

among us Hawiye!

Mahamed Qasim Munye

one of the brightest stars of the Toronto Somali Community

accompanied by Artan & Ainab

put in an appearance. 

Another highlight of my week in Toronto was when I met

with over fifty Habar Gidir fellows

in the Dixon Country-style Coffee Shop

who grilled me for five hours

without any mercy

with no quarter given:

---Togane, why do you always like

to hobnob with

to huddle with

to hitch with

to ham with

to hook up with

to high-five

to hit off

to glad-hand

to hang out

to whore after the Darod Druids?

Don’t you know that you too are Hawiye?

For example

when you came in here just now

you automatically sat on the Darod side

without even acknowledging our presence here

how come you never sit on our Hawiye side?

......I am from Montreal:

believe me

I did not know about the crazy clannish sides of this joint

furthermore

I instinctively sat on the Darod side for one simply reason:

It is as far away as possible from the toilet!

I don’t like to sit next to the toilet

I don’t like to smell

I don’t like to listen

to the martial music playing out in there!

Why is it

that we Hawiye always

choose

what stinks to high heaven

what is an abomination unto the Lord!

Why is it

That we Hawiye always end up

Short-changed!

Shafted

Over the barrel!

Why is it

That we Hawiye always end up

With the short end of the shitty stick

Why is it

That we Hawiye always end up

Shit creek without a paddle!

---Believe me

this shook the joint with laughter!

this brought down the house!

I silently thanked the Lord

that we Hawiye have not yet

at least

lost our sense of humor:

Lord heap miseries upon us Somalis

Yet entwine our arts

Yet entwine our arts

With laughter low

But alas I was not to get away so lightly:

Hajji Ugas & Abdigheni

son of Totto were relentless:

---Togane

why do you generalize about us Habar Gidir?

Why do you paint us all with your same insane Evil brush?

Don’t you know that there are

sinners & saints

hajjis & whores

Sheikhs & Sharifs

among us Habar Gidir?

We can’t be all that bad:

Allah never made anything all totally Evil:

even on the body of the dirty pig

there is one hair

that is halal

that is holy

that is kosher!

Let us quote back at you your beloved Blake:

To Generalize is to be an Idiot

To Particularize is

the Alone Distinction of Merit…

Togane

why do you like to play

the idiot

when it comes to us Habar Gidir?

Why do you call us all Hawiye savages?

Togane

Just be fair

all that is Evil does not belong to Eve

Despite what the Sons of Adam say!

All that is Evil does not belong to us Ill-Jeh

Despite what Somali cowards crow cowardly into the water-pot

Despite what you yell from the rooftops of the internet

Despite how shrill you sound your barbaric YAWP

over the roofs of the world

Let us hear you now

trying

to justify the unjustifiable!

----My Togane Doctrine is

to condemn all Somali clans

to crucify Somali clanism

which is

the the most insidious sort of racism

I begin

the condemnation

the pointing of fingers

the apportioning of the bloody blame game

with my own mindless Mudulood clan

abuse as charity must begin at home!

If those who live in glass houses are foolish enough

to choose

to throw stones

They must throw the first stone

at their own glass house

and shatter it to smithereens!

Recall the Somali saying that says

when you point a finger

watch out

for you are pointing three fingers

at your own silly self!

There is nothing good

about clanism

about racism

It is like the sea

the sea is all salty

there is no part or place or spot

in the sea

where behold

you can drink sweet water

for it is all salty

I got to generalize

about clans

about clanism

about racism

for racism does not trade or truck or truckle with individuals

for individualism or individuality has yet to be invented by us savage Somalis

If today a Somali invents the cure for cancer

If today a Somali discovers cure for aids

what is the first thing we Somalis want to know about her

What is the name of the clan to whom she belongs?

Is she Dir Darod or Dayuus?

The individual does not yet exist

in our Somali ethos

that is why one can’t help but generalize about

the jinni

the ginks

the galoots

the gaalo

the Silly Billies

the so-called Somalis

who are all idiots

who are all Matto

who don’t believe in Allah

who neither believe nor practice Islam

who kill & are killed for their crazy creed which is

Me and my clan against the world

Me and my family against my clan

Me and my brother against my family

Me against my brother

That is what us savage Somalis live by

That is our blood & bone

That is how Dunces make us dance

to their pas de deux

to their terrible tune

There is

neither rhyme nor rhythm nor reason

in Somali racism

instead of this dance macabre

with Dunces

with clannish camarilla

who draw narrow circles of racist sorcery

who draw suffocating clannish circles

that shut Somalis out from each other-

Darod Dir Dayuus Danyer

a thing to flout

a nigger to nigrify

Why don’t we dance the dance of the joy of life

With Wits

With wags

with the wise

who have the love

who have the will

who have the wit

to outwit all Dunces

who have the courage to win

Who have the cohonos to draw Somali circles

That draw in

That include in

every Somali under the sun!

For these two reasons

I refer to us Somalis

as savages

in Somalia

in 1962

days before he was murdered

days before he was martyred

by a mad Majerten Moslem Mullah fanatic of a fool

No wonder Iqbal wrote ages ago:

Paradise is where there is no Mullah!

I asked my Mennonite teacher & friend

Merlin Russell Grove

to tell me

about the book he was reading then:

Shadow of the Almighty:

The life and Testament of Jim Elliot

by Elisabeth Elliot

Grove told me

that it was a wonderful read

that it was a captivating story about one called Jim Elliot

who was so constrained

by the love of Allah

that he went to the jungles of Ecuador

to share the good news

to share the Gospel

with savage Stone Age killers called

Aucas

I could not help but wonder aloud to him what I had feared most

that the same fate might claim him

right there in Mog

He dismissed my fear

by reassuring me thus:

“Don’t forget

Somalis are Moslems

Not Aucas

Not savage Stone Age killers

Somalis respect and admire us Christians

as the people of the book

don’t forget

we were invited to come here

by the Somali government

to educate you and other Somali citizens

you are citizens

Not Aucas

Not savage Stone Age killers

Not the headhunters of the jungles of Ecuador

called Jivaros

Somalis are not

“the lesser breeds without the law

half-devil and half-child”

Mogadishu is no mean city

Mogadishu is a cosmopolitan city

it is not

like the boonies

like the badlands

of the jungles of Ecuador. ”

Literally days later

as Grove was busy registering

Somali students for classes

a crazed Mad Majerten Mullah fanatic

from Matto Mugdi Mudug

plunged a dagger deep into Grove’s gullet and then disemboweled him

flinging his intestines

to the ceiling of his office

where they stayed strewn & stuck

for hours

for all to see

the savagery of it all

the butchery of it all

the Kaffirdom of it all

the infideldom of it all

the ignorance of it all

the arrogance of it all

the bovinity of it all

the infinite stupidity of it all

the insanity of it all

the bestiality of if all

the inhumanity of it all

The headhunters of the jungles of Ecuador called

Jivaros

are just like us Somalis sadomasochists

among them

just like among us

witchcraft sorcery hate murder

take deep roots early in life

Children as they fall asleep at night

are taught to repeat

Dir Darod Dayuus Danyer…

a list of names of those

they must learn to hate…

There is no end to the killings

The miserable part is that to pay off

these debts

as they call them

they don’t necessarily have to kill the very murderer himself—

any kin or kith will do

Just like the Somali savage clans called

Dir Darod Dayuus Danyer

do all the time!

If you don’t believe me

See pages 79 and 101 of

Through Gates of Splendor

by Elisabeth Elliot

You could hear a pin drop after my spiel

for once silence reigned supreme

among us noisy savage Somalis!

Sadiq, one of the founders of

Hawiye Action Group (HAG!)

broke the silence

took me to Hamarweyn Restaurant

for all the samos banjis bur halva qahwa zanjibiil I could handle! 

----Togane

you were magnificent!

No more HAG!

I am with you now

you and I are now singing the same song from the same page!

But do tell me

what is going on

between you & the Majerten?

Your father always hang out

with the Majerten

just like you do now

like father like son!

What is it

that the Macavity Majerten have got

that the rest of the Somali clans haven’t got?

-----If anything can destroy

the Somali deadly poison called Qabiil

it is friendship across clans!

My late Dad had friends galore

from every Somali clan

He loved across clans too

He damn nearly married a maiden from every Somali subclan!

I repeat

Friendship across clans

love across the clan color line

That is the antidote

for our Somali sickness

for our Somali syndrome

for our Mogadishu lie

for our Mogadishu line

for our Matto Mugdi Mudug Malice

for our Matto Mugdi Mudug Malady

for our Somali racism!

That is why

I would literally betray

all of my bovine Abgal clan

rather than betray

my young Majerten friend, Maroyare!

Greater love hath no man than this

that a man lay down his life for his friends

That is what The Prophet was ready to do for his Umma

in Somalia

on July 16

in 1962

That is what my friend

Merlin Russell Grove

had done

for me!

for all of his Somali friends!

That is all I have been trying

to teach

to preach

to practice

to proffer

to prescribe

What is it

that the Macavity Majerten have got

that the rest of the Somali clans haven’t got?

that was your question

that is what you want to know

The Macavity Majerten have

something in spades

that other Somalis have

only a smidgen of

That something is called

Moxie

The ability

to laugh at the lie called life

to look at the stars EVEN while wallowing in the ditch!

to never give up!

to never quit!

to roll with the punches!

to never lose the initiative

to outstare the enemy till he blinks!

to face difficulty

with sardonic smile

with spirit

with courage

with savoir-faire

with flair

with brio

with pizzazz

with panache

with chutzpah

with the cohonos

with sang-froid

with cool

with nonchalance

with élan

with impeccability born of patience

with Majerten Macavitism

with Je-ne-sais-quoi

that proclaims to all & sundry

just because I am going to kick the bucket

don’t expect me

to be scared stiff

to be scared silly

don’t expect me

to blubber all over myself

to slobber all over myself

like a poltroon!

like Scaredy Cat!

like Igal Shidaad!

My young Majerten friend

Maroyare

best exemplifies

what I mean by Macavity Majerten Moxie:

at the tender age of seventeen

he lost all

at the hand of Afwayne

in the tyranny of Afwayne

in the terror of Afwayne

Maroyare lost

his Dad

his uncle

his older brother

his home

his Somalia

And for the last 20 years he has been eating the bitter bread of exile

here in Toronto

and yet I have yet to see him

wallowing in self-pity

singing the Belwo blues

like Togane!

and yet I have yet to hear him

Counsel ignoble ease

counsel peaceful sloth

like Belial

with words clothed in reason’s garb

and yet I have yet to hear him

SAY

the struggle naught avails

The labor and the wounds are vain

The enemy faints no nor fails

And as things have been they remain

and yet I have yet to hear him

SAY

hopes are dupes

fears are not liars

for when

Fear knocked at the door

Faith answered

No one was there!

No crazy clan was there!

and yet I have yet to hear Maroyare

SAY

like Togane

like countless other Silly Billy Somalis

Poor me!

poor me!

pour me a drink!

pour me a stiff double of Johnny Walker!

both red & black!

If that is not Macavity Majerten Moxie

I don’t know what it is!

Under the Tyranny of Afwayne

Under the Terror of Afwayne

More than anything else

Afwayne managed

to succeed in his hate campaign

of making every Somali hate the Majerten

of scapegoating the Majerten

under Afwayne

Allah made The Majerten

like honey

every jackass jumped the cue to swill them

Like the wild berries of the Doo’aan plain

Every jackass jumped the cue to bolt them

Every jackass jumped the cue

to tear off

a hunk of the Majerten prostrate body

Bereft of all they valued

These weeping Majerten orphans

These keening Majerten widowed wives

Whose Majerten husbands have been wantonly slaughtered

For the sons of Adam

for the daughters of Eve

to accept

to bear

to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune

to put up with their lot

for what is written

is written!

for what is decreed

by the inexorable will of Allah

BUT

what is hard

to accept

to bear

to suffer

to listen to

is

the cackling laughter of the Marehan hyena of Garbahare!

the gloating hyena laughter of the Tyrant over the scattered Majerten corpses

who have been

cold-bloodedly

murdered

massacred

as if they were not part & parcel of the Ummaa

Did not Afwayne

everywhere

rain

Shells & mortars

On the Majerten

Regardless of guilt or innocence!

My young friend

Maroyare & his kith & kin

Bore all this and more

With utter Sabar

with patience

With utter surrender to the will of Allah!

Justified by their faith in Allah

Standing & rejoicing in hope of the glory of God

And not only so, but glorying in tribulations

also knowing that tribulation worketh patience

And patience, experience; and experience, hope

And hope maketh not ashamed because the love of God is shed abroad in their hearts

If that is not Macavity Majerten Moxie

I don’t know what it is!

Yay of the Majerten rer Mahad

best exemplifies

this Somali Macavity Majerten Moxie quality!

For over forty years he sought to reside

in Villa Somalia

in the Somali White House

Over forty years ago he vowed

Come hell or high water!

Come Marehan or Hawiye

Come all the Yays & Yanyuurs of Somalia

I will one day win the Somali White House

for I am the meanest Yay of them all!

for I am the yuckiest Yanyuur of them all!

for I am the luckiest Yanyuur of them all!

He fulfilled his vow

Look at him now!

Well ensconced in Villa Somalia!

Abdullahi Yusuf is bringing

Peace to us Hawiye

No wonder now you and I are

singing the same song from the same page!

The fight is over!

we hapless hopeless Hirab brothers were fighting

over the privilege of welcoming

Darod back to Mogadishu!

We both knew that Darod was going

to come down from his perch up in

that legendary tree

The fight was over whether he was going

to land on your black big back

or on my black big back

Yay didn’t trust us Hawiye at all

that is why Yay decided

to land in Mogadishu

riding the big black backs of Tigrian tigers

in tanks!

That is why Yay is now leading

Gidir & Abgal

singing the same song from the same page

the song is called:

Kiss And Make Up

Without beforehand thinking

sometimes I say things

I could never hate you

I do not mean one word of what I say

I don’t hate you

I don’t

I do not

Let’s kiss and make up

Let’s you and I kiss and make up

Let’s kiss and make up

I do not mean one word of what I say

I don’t hate you

I love you.

Laughter shook the sides of both

Sadiq & Togane

like Jelly!

like Jello!

like yellow

like mellow!

In another afternoon

in another Somali restaurant

Ismihaan

a stunningly beautiful nubile comely lass

a Mariin brunette bombshell traffic stopper

a real looker

accosted me thus;

---Are you the truculent terrible Togane

who titillates

who titivates

who tirades

who tintinnabulates

who tittle-tattles

who makes us titter on the internet?

---Yes

---Let me set you straight

Let me pull up your coat

Remember the old saying

“Sticks and stones may break my bones

but names will never hurt me?”

That ain’t so!

That ain’t the Truth!

Togane

Why do you always hurt me

by calling me & my clan

“the ill-mannered Issaq?”

Look how well-mannered I am!

If i were ill-mannered like you

I would beat your old bald pate with my boot!

---Ismihan

Have you read

THE AVATAR OF THE SOMALI RACE?

---Forget about that!

Everybody and her mother know

how decent the late Michael Mariano was!

Somalis of his ilk were never born!

The question I am putting to you right now is:

Why do you trash me & my clan

why do you traduce me & my clan

why do you torment the clan of your friend

Michael Mariano?

---Ismihaan

Ather

forgive me

I won’t do it again!

Let’s you and I kiss and make up!

-----Get away from me
you funny dirty old man!
Go and kiss and make up
with someone

your own size
your own age!

I am old enough to be YOUR granddaughter!

-------------Ismihan
Even though
your crazy kissing killing cousin
Faisal Warabe
is egging me on

to never let up
to never ease off
on the insane Issaaq of his sort
I say

from heretofore
from hereupon
from henceforth

no more name calling!

I hold with Hardy who said

“If way to the better there be
it exacts a full look at the worst”

I forced all of us Somalis
to take a full look at the worst

now I believe
all of us Somalis
save Faisal Warabe
are ready

to forgive
to forget
to kiss and make up
to bury the hatchet
to resurrect the nation
to put down the gun
to pick up The Book
to live by
The Mother of the Book
The Mother of the Qur’an
to replant the three Trees of Paradise
back in our Homeland:

The tree of Truth
The tree of Justice
The tree of Peace

that once flourished in Somalia

under whose shade
under whose shelter

the whole Somali nation

once sat
once prospered
once was protected by Allah

I say
no more name calling
for now more than ever

I feel
in my heart
I feel
in my gut
I feel

Now more than ever
I feel
Deep in my heart
I feel finally

This is the round
this is the time
this is the tide
this is the turn

this is the reason
this is the season

where we
the red Indians of Somalia
are going to win
are going to hit the ball way out of the ballpark!

Before I left Toronto
On Saturday January 13
On behalf of all Canadian Somalis

I powwowed with powers
I powwowed with principalities
I powwowed with Public Safety Minister Stockwell Day
I powwowed with Secretary of State for Multiculturalism Jason Kenny

who are going to support
morally
materially
The Transitional Federal Government of Somalia

With Hosh
with Tennis
with Lady Nurto
with Na-imo
with Batulo
with Zenib Buraki
with Qadro
with Cuulow
with Dhabar-yare
with Abdi-Gaab
with Janna-gale
with all the backing of all Somali activists
in the Diaspora
in the Galut
with all the pull & goodwill of all Somali peacemakers
behind the Somali Transitional Federal Government

It is now for Yay & Ghedi to lose this one!

Heaven forbid!

Upon leaving Toronto I ran into
His Royal Habar Gidir Highness
Mahad Afwayne
The Habar Gidir Rainmaker in Toronto
who paid me the highest compliment I have ever received

Mahad said
Togane
You are a Somali
You are like
Amin Amir!
you are a Somali
you don’t belong to any Somali clan
you belong to Allah!

You are Christian Mennonite to boot!

That is A-okay with me!

you are sovereign
like the Somali People

Your voice
like the voice

of Amin Amir

is

vox populi
vox Dei:

The voice of the people is
the voice of God

Togane
Don’t abuse

this blessing
this boon
this privilege
this prerogative
this bakshiish
this balance

The Good Lord has bestowed upon you!

Mahad Afwayne made my day

Now more than ever
I have never felt
this hopeful
this blessed balanced hope
that anchors my soul

Now more than ever
I have never felt
this confident

for OUR country Somalia!
for our common Somali future!

Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious Somali summer

By this sun of Rer Mahad
By this son of Rer Mahad

And all the clouds that loured upon our Hawiye House
In the deep bosom of the Indian Ocean buried

Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths
Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments
our dreadful marches to delightful measures

Grim-faced War hath smoothed his wrinkled front

And after the insulting tyranny of Afwayne
And after all the Hutu Hawiye Horrors it trailed
And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries

He capers nimbly in a lady’s chamber

To this piping time of Peace
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute
To the dancing of the callipygian cancan culo of Basra!

Now civil war wounds are stopped
Peace lives again!
That she may live long in our native Somali land
God say amen!

-----MAHAMUD SIAD TOGANE


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