Say It Straight

Say it straight
Are you in doubt
What is the reason we hesitate
Like black out curtains thickens the cloud

We compromise
We gamble with life even though
It didn’t roll the dice
We suffer a heavy blow

We seem to know it better than the rest
What you do is what you think is best
Hold on
How do we distinguish between right and wrong

Human nature
I see my brothers endangered
Faith is what keeps me strong
Holding on

They say, what goes around comes around
We didn’t go to find what we found
Shame
Am guilty, am I to blame

The reason I think twice
Is not just to act wise
Life showed me a different reason
Visiting the cemetery calms me for another season

How do you tell your brother what to live for
How to avoid the life you lived before
Hypocrisy becomes the stigma you can’t fight
Of having been in prison for that night

We do mistakes
Admitting, courage is what it takes
Look at those innocent eyes
Of hers; they didn’t learn how to tell lies

Why do I smile
Bitterness was my company for every mile
Years.
She told him, don’t be ashamed of all your fears

She tried to explain to me
The bigger picture I couldn’t see
She told me, even a soldier
Has the right to shed a tear

Once upon a time, I heard a dry cry
Whispering, almost a silent ‘why’
How did the question turn to ‘dead end’
On our journey we lost a friend

Say it straight
Are you in doubt
What is the reason we hesitate
Like black out curtains thickens the cloud

We compromise
We gamble with life even though
It didn’t roll the dice
We suffer a heavy blow

Struggle

Every day I see people struggle
Or is it just me who ends up in trouble
Single mothers feel the burden
Every day they shove that heavy curtain

Every day I say to myself
‘Today is the day you finish by twelve’
But life lies beyond wishful thinking
Every day creates a scenario within

Every day I see those empty eyes
Meeting them and their thoughts by surprise
Makes me wonder about me and my trivial worries
Every day those footprints tell me their stories

Every day I read the news
Can’t see the truth as they fuse
Agony with entertainment
Every day wakes up with another disappointment

Every day I struggle to pray
Every day I struggle to keep my way
Every day I struggle to ease the pain
Every day I struggle to stay off memory lane

Every day I see my picture in the mirror
Thinking ‘you should give another matter prior
Consideration before you eat’
Every day millions go hungry and feel our heat

Every day I try to see beyond my own nose
All I see is the mist of confusion and striking blows
We fund war against humanity
Every day we rape another human’s dignity

Every day I look into my cup and wonder
If it’s half full or empty, further I start to ponder
Whether it’s justified to have my doubts
Every day the sky is festooned with dark clouds

Every day I go for a walk
I wish you’d cross my way for a talk
‘You should start to give your life a meaning’
Every day I see the streets – I see us dreaming

Every day I see people struggle
Or is it just me who ends up in trouble
Single mothers feel the burden
Every day they shove that heavy curtain

Wake Up Somalia

Wake up Somalia

Wake up, to the misty morning of the Indian Ocean
Wake up, to the heart beat of your nation
We heard so many lies
We listened to the perfect lullabies

Wake up Somalia
 

Wake up, to a brighter future for your children
Wake up, to the happiness and unity they bring
We were children back home
Now we are grown
Still, we are children longing for home

Wake up Somalia

Life!
Has taken us on a journey through the night
Spark that fire
Wave your flag and raise it higher
Without misery there is no wisdom
Somalia our Kingdom

Wake up Somalia

Wave your flag, don’t feel ashamed
History is history, you can’t be blamed
Keep your head up and take the lead
The fruits of tomorrow you want to reap
The effort of today you need to seed
Show me your smile dreamer, don’t go to sleep

Wake up Somalia

P.S. I'm A Criminal

Dear friend, I don’t know where to start

I’m on the run – I see them dart
at me. The reason... I’m losing hope. Please –
publish my story, so I can feel at ease.
Let them hear my journey to find my inner peace.
P.S. I’m a criminal

I’m a criminal – for being born
in South Africa – Apartheid has torn
my ancestors’ dignity for five and a half decades,
born in a ghetto, reality fades.
P.S. I’m a criminal

Birthright has been revoked at birth.
“Black Homelands” outside Johannesburg, why on earth
was I deported – I thought I was home in Africa
I was too young to understand said cousin Erica
P.S. I’m a criminal

I arrived in UK 28th January nineteen eighty five,
not as South African, but a Hutu refugee, to find a better life.
What a fateful day – “We are the World” – that was what some were singing.
Back in Africa, my family and friends were fighting and clinging
To “Life” – trying – To survive
P.S. I’m a criminal

“Life” is coated in Europe with a different meaning.
That was my first impression as a teenager, leading
to my second impression, this cancelled my very first.
Racial segregation, a matter of the past – social segregation, at its worst.
P.S. I’m a criminal

Welcome to London – Newham – found home, inner urban
my neighbours – Blacks – Muslims – Asians wearing turban.
Finding a way out of misery – while I watch TV?
Can’t believe what I see –
Mike Tyson K.O. – Nelson Mandela finally
Set free - 11th February nineteen ninety
Finding a way out of misery – while I watch TV!
P.S. I’m a criminal

Dear friend, I don’t justify
What I did, what I do – I don’t even try
To find an excuse why I am locked up here
If this is society’s justice, then I have nothing to fear.
P.S. I’m a criminal

Young – despaired – proud – idealistic – misled
Driven by my ambition, demons follow me to bed.
Everyone out there tries to make it – what is at stake?
A criminal mind built over the years – one opportunity to take.
Without any prospects I have nothing to lose,
ain’t it easy to judge while you’re sipping your booze?!
Meet me half way with a clear state of mind!
Sitting Hyde Park, discussing me & my own kind.
P.S. I’m a criminal

Dear friend, I don’t know how it came to this.
It went all too quick – either my fault or his.
Locked up, I see people from my neighbourhood
Justice – since the days in “Black Homeland” – everything is good.
Born behind bars, ceased behind bars
It was a childhood dream – one of those red & fast cars
From Johannesburg to Cape Town
Free at home – not only The Crown

P.S. I’m a criminal

Sincere regards
Samuel – Speaking to the hearts

(Grievance in History is for remembrance - Not to point the finger at eachother)

Blues

Who can deny the bitter sweet melody of the saxophone
Playing for Amaal, who left her home
Who can deny the bitter sweet melody of the blues
Playing for Jamaal, who lost his shoes

Running to save his life
You haven’t seen his strong drive to survive
Chased by bullets
Try to live your life to the fullest
Being on the brink of death
Still we are alive, even though nothing is left
On a day like today
Children have nothing to eat, still you see them play
At last – give me the definition of a child
In the city of sorrow, children holding machine guns with pride

Who can deny the bitter sweet melody of the saxophone
Playing for Jamaal, who left his home
Who can deny the bitter sweet melody of the blues
Playing for Amaal, who lost her shoes

Running to escape the pain
Life left on her face a visible stain
Starvation – is her most loyal friend
Always there for her, persistent to the very end
Education isn’t held in class, life teaches them how to fight
Books are burnt to keep them warm at night
Wisdom of the street
Is the only source that feeds
The empty stomach – “survival of the fittest” the only solution
I'm talking about the city of sorrow and its evolution


Who can deny the bitter sweet melody of the saxophone
Playing for Amaal, who left her home
Who can deny the bitter sweet melody of the blues
Playing for Jamaal, who lost his shoes

Running to shoot dead his brother the public enemy
Are you feeling pity for the picture you didn’t see?
Drug addiction – just to keep the tiny legs going
For the next dose in the evening
Numb. Heart broken. Dead but still alive
Eyes. Wide open. Holding tight to gun and knife
Trust turns to dust
If trust took the life of your friends in the past
A child soldier was never promised tomorrow
In the city of sorrow.

Who can deny the bitter sweet melody of the saxophone
Left alone.
Who can deny the bitter sweet melody of the blues
Voiceless voices screaming. Truce.

Somalia - Land of Anarchy

If facebook was twitter - "Panorama: Land of Anarchy" would be trending by now.

I read lines of anger. I read lines of bewilderment. The images we have seen are horrific indeed. I am speechless myself, but did we really expect a different picture after twenty years of violence, destruction and oppression?

Is it totally self-inflicted or fuelled from the outside, I am not in the picture. I must admit that I have to do my research first to understand what is going on in the city I was born. I don’t know if this documentary was meant to give us a picture of the situation without any subtle message. 

It does not matter. I don’t know who that deputy prime minister was, I can’t tell if he is selling out or not. I don’t know why they called those elders ‘godfathers’ and portrayed them like the cast for Coppola’s next movie. I can’t tell if they, you and me are selling out for looking away from the fate of our people.

I can only tell that those images of my place of birth, the fate of Nuur Adan (the man who lost his left arm and right leg) and the words of Dr Mohamed Yussuf (saying “We have a chronic frustration, because this is happening continuously”) are going to stick in my memory.  That does matter.

You and I should feel an urge to make a change, a personal change to have a positive impact on our people, the suffering of our people. You and I know that we shouldn’t point the finger at anyone; that would be only political; that would only divide further. Bullets driven by ignorance and hate distinguish between a minority and a majority tribe member. Dr Mohamed Yussuf does not discriminate or make note of it whenever bodies with torn limps enter the surgery of Medina Hospital. He gave up his practice in Italy to serve his people in need, allegedly in the most dangerous place on earth.

His people!

Because his people speak the same language, eat the same dishes, breath the same air, wear the same clothes, teach the same teachings, pray the same prayers.

You and I, we know who we are; we knew it the day random voices of the past blamed us that we didn't know who we were; did that little fact made me more or less Somali? God forbid. No. I am thankful that my father said to me as a child "It does not matter what people say, you know who you are as long you know your name." –

'Knowing who you are', a blessing and a curse.

Let's face it, it is a blessing to know who your aunties are and knowing that you are always welcomed in different countries by different people that you haven't met before, just for 'knowing who you are'. I don't associate with that tribalism, that is a blessing in families. Nevertheless, I believe that tribalism does not stem from the fact that we were born in different regions. It does not matter how big or small your family is. Tribalism is not encountered in the distance, it begins at a close range. The moment you start counting back your name and make a hold at a certain point – that is where tribalism begins, let’s face up the truth. Believe it or not, I came across people that discriminate in favour of one name. Naturally, if you would go back another generation, those names were siblings who would not wish to be divided as little as you would like to be separated from your siblings. That attitude is what I believe is much more difficult to come to terms with, than blaming people in the distance. Another issue I have with the whole idea of 'knowing who you are' is that your mother's side is left out completely. How many of you would think differently of who they are, if they would take into consideration – who their grandmothers and their grandmothers were?

My only point is that we have to stop being ridiculously ignorant. It is not funny or helpful at all if you give little children the feeling of being stupid for not 'knowing who they are'. Tell them who their uncles, aunties, grandmothers, grandfathers are/were without bragging about your name, because pride is the least feeling you should have for being born into a family, it is not something you have achieved, it is something you have been blessed with!

Just say, Alhamdulilah!

Sura Al-Hujraat (49) : Vers 13

"O mankind! We have created you from a male and a female, and made you into nations and tribes, that you may know one another. Verily, the most honourable of you with Allâh is that (believer) who has At-Taqwa [i.e. he is one of the Muttaqûn (pious)]. Verily, Allâh is All-Knowing, All-Aware."

You and I need to do justice to the courage of our convictions.

I do not want to encourage anyone to expose him or herself to danger,
just expose yourself to a little empathy.

We are going to lose something very precious for good if we look away.
We dream of unity, peace and stability.

We dream of being a nation which can provide for its people.
We dream, so you know what to do, because we can be!

Our hands are capable of more than just burying our people.

Change. Daily.
Encourage the people around you,

so we can sit in the same neighbourhood one day,
without worrying about the fate of our people.

People remember Somalia as the

Land of the poets.
Land of the educated.

 rather than

Land of anarchy!
Let’s make a change.

( Link: BBC Panorama - Land of Anarchy http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b0125mlb/Panorama_Land_of_Anarchy/ )

10. Things I would say to a Somali woman

Limiting myself to ten things I could say to you
is doing you wrong, before my voice runs dry, let me get through

It's hard! I don’t know where to start
Your story simply broke my heart

You say, you can’t trust no one and stay alert
You say, your people and nation is still torn apart

1.
One thing you are blessed with, is pride and strength
You walked that road called hope, endless in length

2.
Two ways to lose faith, when brought face to face
Life of hardship has been brought to your mothers place

3.
Three decades before that fateful day
Your parents praised your birth and prayed that you’d stay

4.
Four generations now, your beauty didn’t forfeit, having your blessed moment
Who knew, while you gave birth, a whole nation did come to an end

5.
Five decades, counting the years and tears, your daughter is in my age
You smiled while you said:” It’s on you to turn the page.”

6.
Six years from now… I promised my daughter, your niece
to show her the birthplace of her grandmother, and bring back her peace

7.
Seven Wonders of the World, wonder will never cease
I wonder if your heart still beats and feels at ease

8.
Eight years ago… the last time you saw your mother

9.
Nine years ago… the last time you heard from your brother

10.
Ten years… being heartbroken is one thing, but 20 years out of home is another

20 Years...



(Inspired by Somalia - The Nation of Poets & Ilwad Ismail)