Is this really what goes on in Somalia?!

Discussion in 'General' started by Dibleyy, May 16, 2019.

  1. Dibleyy

    Dibleyy

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    https://www.somnet.com/forums/viewtopic.php?t=379426 (it keeps putting in somnet, you have to change the url to somnet instead of somnet)

    Got this from @Solaris while making a thread to prepare for my trip to Somalia and I'm more than shocked. Is this actually what goes on? [​IMG]:ayaanswag:

    The girl was so stupid too, doing random drugs, drinking, getting into a car with a strange man, walking home with 10 guys in Somalia, I swear this girl doesn't rate life. The first thing to watch out for in any country is men [​IMG]




    Have you guys seen this happen when you went there?
     
  2. Jaydaan

    Jaydaan

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    The site you sent dont work...tried what you said
     
    • Funny Funny x 1
  3. SilverL

    SilverL Unprofessional Therapist

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    You have to change it to Somali net (without the space)
     
  4. Dibleyy

    Dibleyy

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    Sorry I meant put in 'somali net' instead of somnet

    Edit: Is Somalispot beefing with somali net? why is it whenever you put in Somali net it automatically puts in Somnet
     
  5. Jaydaan

    Jaydaan

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    Lool yeah something is off....that doesnt work either
     
  6. Dibleyy

    Dibleyy

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    put in the URL and change somnet to somali net without the space
     
  7. Dibleyy

    Dibleyy

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    Just gonna post it here for those who cant see it

    I was raised with really strict parents. So strict that I began to rebel against them quite quickly. At that time we were living in Minneapolis. I was 15 years old sneaking out of my home and going to clubs with a fake ID. That year,6 of my friends also were sent to Somalia by their parents. At the time I was convinced our parents plotted against us. 4 of them went to Hargeisa. 2 of them went to Mogadishu. And that left little old me, all alone, headed to Galkacyo. My first month was terrifying. Mosquito bites, food I would never want to eat, scary animals, aggressive people, and rude comments from people who considered me to be a reject. You see, in Galkacyo, if you are diaspora who return and its not for work purposes, as far as they're concerned you're either a crackhead or a murderer. Later on, I would find out they weren't so wrong. But in the beginning I stayed in my bubble. I sat at my uncle's home, living off a diet of 7up & snickers bars. After a month, I stopped tweezing my eyebrows, started eating canjeero, started exploring the neighborhood & socializing. But i was still bored. My friends in Mogadishu were smoking shisha and having fun, my friends in Hargeisa were at parties every night and living like Westerners. Meanwhile i was stuck, sitting in the neighborhood. One day, i walked to the grocery store to grab some essentials. And by essentials, I mean junk food. While in the line i see a beautiful young man Infront of me. He's buying all the same snacks as me. He then speaks in a English accent. Not only is he handsome and tall, hes from the UK. I stood behind him, trying to think of a way to spark conversation. I quickly pull out my ugly phone and pretend to be on it. "Yo. I will call you when I get to my uncle's house. Im busy". That got his attention. (I know. sneaky) He smiled at me and introduced himself as Abdi. Abdi asked where I was from. "Twin Cities." ."Huh?", he responded. I clarified that it was Minnesota. "Ahh" , he replied. "Youre very beautiful Masha Allah". I was blushing. At the compliment. We exchanged info and he promised to call me. That very night he did. I couldn't hear him because of his noisy background. Loud rap music blared. I asked him where he was. "Just about". "Where at?", I pressed. "Would you like to come and find out?". I asked him to pick me up. I quickly changed into an outfit and put on my abaaya over it, then my jilbaab, finally completing my look with indho shareer. I didn't want to wake my cousin and tell her I was leaving. So I called Abdi and described the very complicated path to my family compound. Once his Land Cruiser lights flashed in front of the home, I quicky climbed the gate and slid into his vehicle. That night i would learn about the wild side of Somalia.

    When Abdi came to get me. he had a Benson & Hedges cigarette dangling out the side of his mouth and reeked of alcohol. He began recklessly speeding down the streets and drove into the parking of a home. Once he got out the vehicle, I shyly followed behind him as it was clesr the home was a packed house. There was a group of 20+ people, men and women, all either drinking, smoking shisha, or cigarettes and weed. Not all of them were dhaqan celis, although some were. Abdi sank down of the fadhi carbeed and patted the seat beside him. He then began to prepare a shisha for me, as i slipped out of my abaaya but opted to keep on my niqab for the sake of privacy. I browsed around the place and saw a man in the corner just socializing. He wasn't drinking, smoking or chewing. He was very attractive. I tried to smile at him, but he quickly turned from me. I turned my attention back to Abdi, who now had his hand on his crotch, looking at me like a piece of meat. "Haye", he asked. All of a sudden he was so unattractive to me. Now that I saw homie in the corner, I had my eyes on him. Abdi grew annoyed with my lack of attention to him. "Why did you come if you wasn't gonna speak with me?". I rolled my eyes inwardly. How could he have been so hot a few hours ago and now make me want to run home? But I continued being friendly as I didn't want to ruffle his feathers. A girl who was staring at me the whole night came over to me and said hello. "My name is Halima. Are you from Canada. you look familiar? " She asked. "Nah. Im American." Thus began our friendship. I tried to casually ask her about the mysterious man in the corner. "Oh him. That's Yusuf. Don't even bother walaal. Every girl in this room wants him. And he doesn't pay any attention". Her words didn't sway me. Infact they made me more curious. I decided I would find out his information. All of a sudden, I heard a loud slap and scream. Somehow, a drunken Abdi had gotten up ( I didn't even notice his absence), and had smacked a female he was arguing with. Halima went to the girls defence. I then glanced and saw Halima's phone laying beside me. Unlocked. I quicky searched it while keeping my eye on her and searched for the name Yusuf. There were 3 Yusufs.Yusuf 1, Yusuf 2 & Yusuf Qalbi. I saved all three to my contacts and got up. I had officially lost all interest in the party and wanted to go home. I asked Abdi (yes the drunken one) to take me home. He was very annoyed but still agreed. I had a new interest in Galkacyo. His name was Yusuf.

    That whole week, I went to the same house in the hopes of seeing Yusuf. He never showed up again. It drove me insane. I even began befriending Halima for more information on him. I invited Halima to my uncle's home, as he had left for 2 weeks to Dubai. I asked her to sleep over because my female cousins were all cool and there were no males. She came to my house with luggage and a briefcase. The briefcase contained a shisha pipe. She pulled out a chair and sat in our front yard lighting a cigarette. My poor cousin Faduma was traumatized. She asked to speak to me privately. I entered the room with her. "Maryan", she scolded me in Somali, "This woman looks older than you and she seems like trouble" . I brushed it off. I joined Halima back in the front yard. Not even hiding my thirst , I spoke. "what's up with Yusuf?Haven't seen him around." I saw a look of irritation, but she quickly shook it off. "You sure do ask a lot about him", she snidely commented. It was then that I decided that she probably had feelings for him herself. I changed the subject to make the conversation less awkward & continued socializing with her. She set the shisha up for me and we smoked and laughed about life back home. While she spoke, my hands fiddled with my phone. I went to my contact list and slid my finger down to Y. I looked at the 3 Yusuf's and my instinct about her reaction to my questions convinced me that the correct Yusuf had to be Yusuf Qalbi. So I decided to text it......
     
  8. Dibleyy

    Dibleyy

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    I know you're thinking "She can't be serious.". I was very serious. You see, in Somalia, a style of getting to know members of the opposite sex was to dial or text random numbers in the hopes that it would be your soulmate. It was a process termed "Baqti aa Nasib" Either the person turned out to be baqti or it was your lucky day. I fully intended to pretend that was the case with Yusuf. "ASC" I texted the number. "....And then he shot up her family's house", Halima finished her story. Instead of admitting that I was not listening I pretended to follow. "That's crazy", I remarked. Then my phone beeped again. I looked down and Yusuf Qalbi had responded. "Wa calaykum Salam. Who is this?" . I pondered my response. Then wrote. "someone who has a crush on you". 1 hour passed. Then 2. Then 3. No response from him. By now both Halima and I were laying our beds in my cousin's room. She asked me, "Maryan are you good?". All of a sudden i didn't feel like speaking. I just slept. Once I woke up, I had a missed call. Yusuf Qalbi. I looked over to Halima who looked angry. "Yusuf called you twice. Where did you get his number and why is it saved as Yusuf Qalbi?" . Instead of answering her question, I panicked at her statement. "What do you mean he called twice? I only see one call". She shrugged. "Well i answered it the second time. Im gonna ask you again. Where did you get his number?" Her tone terrified me. "Some girl from the neighborhood gave it to me", I squeaked. "Which one?" . She didn't miss a beat. "I promised secrecy". She got up and paced. "it's kind of funny how his name is saved as Yusuf Qalbi in your phone when I call him that". I quickly tried to flip the script on her. "Well then it's just a coincidence. I don't think our Yusuf's are the same." She snapped, "Oh they're definitely the same. Somali b*tches are so sneaky. I spoke to him he doesn't even know you you stalker". At this point im humiliated. How am I gonna save face with Yusuf? I quickly try to fix the situation with Halima. "I didnt know you had a thing. If i had, i wouldn't have taken his number from your phone". She seemed satisfied with the response. "Well now you know, stay away from him". I agreed. For the rest of the week, things between Halima and I went smoothly. When she finally left i sighed and flopped onto my bed. At this point, I might as well go back to Abdi. Halima seems crazy and i do not want to make an enemy out of her. I call Abdi. He answers, "Hey Stranger". I smile and make up some lie about him slapping the female at the party making me real uncomfortable. He apologizes for his drunken behavior and asks if we can hang out. I tell him my cousins are sleeping and that he can come over however he must stay silent. We hung out and smoked Halima's shisha pipe together. At one point we even kissed. After the conversation died down and we just sat in silence, I toyed with my phone again. I clicked on Yusuf Qalbi's name and sent a message. "Hey. I dont know what Halima said to you but she's crazy and stole my phone". He responded quickly "Huh?" Can i call you?" I responded "Call me in exactly 5 minutes." I looked up at Abdi who was now kissing neck. I yawned loudly and looked at .y wristwatch. "I'm tired and would like to sleep" . He seemed disappointed but had no choice but to agree. As soon as his car lights were out of sight and the area went dark again, my phone rang. Yusuf Qalbi flashed on the screen. I cleared my throat in hopes of not sounding rough and then answered. "Hello", I spoke seductively.

    Yusuf spoke into the phone with a commanding and authoritative voice. "before I continue this conversation, I just want you to break it down further for me" I was always a good liar so my response was prompt. "Basically last week, I met a random crazy guy named Abdi _____" , I began, totally downplaying my friendship with him. I paused before adding, "I saw you at that marfish/bar/shisha house. Once I commented about how attractive I found you, immediately Halima objected." His response gave me joy. "Crazy Halima from Canada? That girl is always claiming me as her boyfriend. She needs medication". I agreed. "She then saved your number into my phone and began texting you to make me look crazy". I dont know why I added that lie, but I wanted to start new with Yusuf. For him to see me as a normal girl. He chuckled "Wallahi she needs help. I would advise you to stay away from her. Shes done so many drugs, it has affected her brain. That's why her family tossed her here". I promised to steer clear of her. "I am glad we could clear this all up. Hopefully I see you around" I comment coyly. He responds "Inshallah" and bids me goodnight. I went to sleep that night content. I was woken up in the afternoon by my cousin. "Halima's waiting for you in the front". I come out half asleep to see Halima perched in a plastic chair drinking tea and smoking a cigarette. "Hey girl. I was thinking we head to the spot". I didn't want to go. I wanted Yusuf to think i was innocent, but the desire to see him again made me reconsider. Before i knew it I was on the same seat, puffing some mint hookah. About an hour into my stay, Yusuf walks in. He immediately commands all the attention in the room. He walks towards me and I think he is going to speak to me, but he just walks right past me to a group of guys laughing together. A skinny awkward looking guy plops down beside me and attempts to make conversation. "My name is Mohamed Sweden. What about you, sharafeey?" I force a fake discussion with him in order to look preoccupied, all the while stealing glances at Yusuf. I began to add a new coal and notice Halima floats over to his side and begins touching him playfully. His hair, his neck and his arm. I grow annoyed that I don't even notice that a piece of coal falls onto my baati until my leg starts to burn. I notice a huge hole in the material and out of frustration get up. It's been less than two hours and i already wanna go home. Halima and I had caught a taxi car on the way there and I had no way back. I call Abdi. "What?" He answers gruffly. "Can you drop me off home?" I plead. "Ask the niggas who brought you" I begin to cry. "I didn't come with a nigga. I came with Halima." He yells, "Well good luck. Get home safe" Click. Mohamed Sweden appears back at my side. "You look sad gacaley. What happened?". I half cry,half yell. "i just wanna go home" . Mohamed bites his lip. "I dont have a car, but I can walk you home. Where do you live?" "Garsoor" i reply, unsure about the walk. He notices my hesitation and adds, "Don't worry. It's like 6 of us" and points to his boys. I go to Halima standing with Yusuf. "Hey, do you want to go to my place now?" Halima looks at me like I have AIDS, "Do I look like I wanna go?" Yusuf, uncomfortable with the tension, walks away from our conversation. Halima grows nicer after his departure. "We just got here babe. Lets hang out for a bit more". I shake my head. "Nah. Im tired.Mohamed has offered to see me home" She squints at me. "Mohamed who? " I point to Sweden who is staring right at us. She looks shocked, but then snarls. "Well call me when you get home." I agree and wave to Mohamed who then calls his friends along. My feet are aching. The walk is longer than I had predicted. Pretty soon we reached an alleyway familiar to me. I notice that i am walking faster than the guys, all of a sudden im thrown to the floor. Mohamed Sweden is on top of me pulling up my dirac baati while his friends cheer on. I begin screaming and a car zooms by me. I see a shadow exit the car and begin shooting in the air. Mohamed Sweden gets up and begins running with his friends, tripping on his way. He scrambles up and disappears into the darkness. The man walks over and I notice it is Yusuf. My Yusuf Qalbi. He helps me up and offers to drive me home. I get in the passenger seat, half scared, half flattered he had come to save the damsel in distress.
     
  9. Dibleyy

    Dibleyy

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    Once he gets me to my address, I attempt to thank him. He cuts me off. "You put yourself in a disgusting situation right now walking home with 7 men. Are you f*cking stupid?" His scolding burned me. I cried hot tears. He told me to go home safely. I called my cousin to open the door for me. She didn't answer. He asked me if i could climb the gate. I pretended not to be able to. He sat there frustrated. I cried to him some more. "It's not my fault they are rapists. I can't believe im being blamed" He rolled his eyes. "Save this feminism nonsense. Rapists are everywhere. And common sense could have helped you avoid this situation". I gave in to his scolding. "You're right. But at least you saved me before everything happened." He shrugged. "I would have done it for anyone". I smirked. "Are you sure? I think you like me". He glanced over at me directly and said with a straight face "I would never like a girl who hung out with men in foreign homes and smoked shisha and let strangers walk her home and even lets one drop her off". After 30 seconds of silence, he got out of the drivers seat, climbed the gate and quietly opened my gate lock for me, giving me access. He walked away, but not before adding "And I would never wife a girl who lets strange men climb her family's home gate and enter their premises". He climbs into his car and drives off. I started fuming. How dare he?? I climbed into bed and rubbed the burn mark on my leg through the hole in my baati. All of a sudden i received a text. It was Abdi. Although I didnt like him, my self esteem needed boosting. So i read it. "Sorry babe. The way you have been dissing me pissed me off. Can I come see you?" I responded "Apology accepted. But it's too late im going to sleep" My phone rang immediately after. Abdi spoke through the line, "Don't go to sleep yet. Talk to me for a bit." I did. While speaking to him on the phone, I messaged Yusuf. "You were right. Im sorry about the way I carried myself." I received a text back. "Answer your phone" "Abdi. I will call you back. My mom is calling" I hung up before he could respond. Seconds later, my phone rang. Yusuf's deep timber vibrated through the cellphone. "Maryan, you will never be my type. I just want to clarify that. But we can be friends." I agreed with him. Just as our conversation started to get less awkward, a knock sounded on my gate. I opened the locks and Halima stood there. She ushered herself in. "Who you talking to?" I took the moment to brag. "Oh its just Yusuf. He just called me" Halima begins to screech, "After we just had sex?" Yusuf sighs, "Why would you tell her I called you?". I grow embarrassed at the fact that he wanted it to remain a secret. "Well why did you just have sex with her?" He takes control of the conversation again. "I'm not your man and i never will be" . His voice is so loud and Halima cackles. I hang up the phone aggressively.Halima get in my face. "Bi*ch. You and your f*cking low ranking qabiil can't come to my city and try to steal my man. This is my city. My family runs it. I don't care if your mom is from here. Your dad is a peasant" I tried to argue that my dad was also from Galkacyo but she cuts me off. "Hes not from here. Hes a guest here. Like you are. Behave or I will make your time here a nightmare." I push her. "Get out of my house" She grabs my hair and we roll around on the floor. She rips my baati open from the shoulder and my left breast spills out. I rips hers open and pull violently at her nipple ring. She screams so loudly, my cousins slide the lock to their bedroom and pounce on her. She manages to escape the three of us. On the way out, she grabs the tea kettle off the makeshift stove. She opens the lid and splashes at me. My reaction is delayed and the tea splashes all over my baati and revealed chest. It took me seconds to register that the tea was cold. She opened the gate and slithered out the apartment. I laugh crazily and light a cigarette. I hadn't smoked one since landing in Somalia, but had on just in case. My cousins are freaking out. I tell them to calm down. We won. They yell at me in Somali. "We did our research. That girl is well connected", they panic. I shrug, "So". "so?", They scream. "Her family runs the whole city. We need to call abbe" I jump and grab the phone. "You are not calling uncle. She won't do anything. I promise." I. convinced them to sleep.

    It was around 30 minutes past fajr when i heard screaming. I got up with my two cousins Faduma and Nasteha. We open the gate to see Halima and lynch mob of about 30 Somali aunties. Behind them were 7 vehicles, including one army type vehicle with 7 uniformed men atop of it. Faduma gave me a menacing look. What had I got myself into?
     
  10. Dibleyy

    Dibleyy

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    shes a prostitute" "I saw her walking with 20 boys" "She sneaks out in the middle of the night" "Her family sent her back from America because she was a selling herself" Those were just some of the comments the women were hurling at me Infront of my uncles home. They demanded the officers arrest me for assaulting their precious child Halima. I screamed back at them. Faduma and Nasteha pushed me behind them and attempted to plead with the ladies. I was fuming mad because they were insulting me in the process. They called me a dumb diaspora and asked the ladies to forgive my stupidity. It took one hour of kissing these women's butts for them to finally back off. They started to leave, but not before demanding to speak with my uncle upon his return. As they all began to leave my neighborhood, an officer lightly hit me in the head with his stick gun. It was more of a warning than an attack. I stomped back into the house like a brat. I was livid. Faduma returned and passed me the phone. My uncle was screaming through it.
    "Do you think this is America where women can roam freely?"
    I responded "No abti"
    "In Galkacyo, you are either a woman with akhlaaq or a hooker. There is no in between. When i come back I am sending you to Garowe. You have embarrassed yourself here. Everybody knows who you are. You will stay with your aunt Hani."
    Just a month ago, I had hated everything about the city, but now that I was to leave, I was angry.
    "Abti. i am not going to Garowe. I am staying here."
    "Yes you are. In addition to that, she teaches a dugsi and you will participate. I have not seen you pray one say since you landed." Before I could respond he hung up.
    I went to my room and grabbed my laptop. The screen was shattered after my cousin had come up from badiye. She was so amazed by the device she kept tapping the screen like a cave woman, the small computer dropped right Infront of her. I tried to read through the cracks as I scrolled through my Facebook. The slow wifi in our house was driving me insane. Just then a message popped up from Asma. Asma was one of my friends who had made the trip to Somalia as well, except she was in Hargeisa.
    "Hey Maryan. How is Puntland?"
    "It sucks.". I responded. I didn't really mean it. But as of lately, it did.
    "Well you should come to Somaliland girl. Intee ka shidantahay"
    All of a sudden, it wasn't such a bad idea.
    "How will i get there?", i asked.
    "There are flights and cars that come to Hargeisa all the time."
    "I certainly can't afford a flight. Give me your number. And don't be surprised if I just show up. I hope you have somewhere for me to stay."
    She sent me her number and I logged out. I tiptoed to the bedroom I shared with Faduma, while she slept the traditional nap after dhuhr and before asr. I started tossing my belongings into one of the three suitcases i brought to Galkacyo. I then reached deep down to find my envelope of money. My parents sent me 250 dollars a month to survive. I didn't use much of it as I barely bought anything. My envelope consisted of about 425 dollars. I put that in my purse, grabbed my cellphone with its charger and tucked my passport safely in my purse. Upon my arrival to Somalia, my uncle had tried to confiscate my passport, but i was having none of it. I was grateful for that now.

    I walked to the main road and waited for a bus to pull up. Once i climbed onto the bus, I squished myself between the 7 women inside. Behind us, in the trunk,old men sat as well. The young men were relegated to standing on the step outside rhe car and holding on for dear life. Once we got to the city's core, I tapped the wall of the car. Somalia's idea of a way to notify the driver you wanted off. The bus came to a halt and i slid out grabbing my heavy suitcase. I began walking around in circles looking for the infamous bus terminals people used to travel within Somalia. My skirt grew brown at the bottom from all the dust I was dragging with me. My suitcase, with only two wheels instead of four grew to be a burden on me. I walked by the same street vendor ten times. He was standing behind a glass full of Dermovate bleaching cream,waiting for a customer. "Do you need help?" , He asked. I told him I was looking for the cars that drove up north towards Hargeisa. He laughed.
    "You won't find any car going to Hargeisa right now. But you will find one going to Garowe or Bosaso. And once you do, they have rides headed to Hargeisa from there" He pointed to a bunch of cars and trucks congregated together like taxi drivers in Minneapolis. I thanked him and attempted to walk off. He asked me to purchase a cream but I respectfully declined. I speed walked to the men and began to ask on for the price to go to Bosaso. While i spoke to the old man,.a young man watched me intensely. "100 dollars", responded the old man. I began to open up my purse and dig for my envelope when the young man came and stopped me. "Hes lying to you. It is 20 dollars and I will take you". Although i was weary of the young man, i accepted his deal. The old man stormed off angrily. The young man took my luggage and put it in his trunk. "I'd rather sit with that". He laughed "And where would the other people sit?". Other people? I was confused. He spoke as if he knew my thoughts "Do you think im driving all the way to Bosaso with one fare?" I guess it made sense. It also made me feel more comfortable as I knew this guy was kind of creepy. I walked over to the car. A man sat in the passenger seat. I slid into the back. Shortly after, a woman joined me. Then another man. Both the woman and man were slightly chunky and I began to get uncomfortable. The driver got in and I told him I would take another car. I got out and demanded my money back. He told me to relax and he would make it comfortable for me. He demanded the woman and man get out the back to rearrange themselves. They got out. I pulled out my envelope and have him another twenty. "Give him back his money and let him go to another car" I said to him while pointing to the old man. I wanted extra space and my only solution was to pay for an extra seat. He tossed the old man back his money, and the man walked off, climbing into another vehicle. I was relieved and slid back into my seat. Pretty soon the journey began. It got dark really fast and I was not able to appreaciate the beauty of the journey. In addition to it being dark and scary, the woman beside me was having a battle with me over car space. We both attempted to lay down. I finally shouted at her. "I paid for 2 seats to be able to sleep" pushing her in the process and laying down. The man in the passenger seat looked disgusted with me. "She could be your mother" "Well she is not" "Diaspora are so stupid". I was sick of hearing that. I slept in the seat.

    I woke up to something touching my leg. I jumped as the driver sat in the back of the car with me. When i jumped he told me not to be scared. I looked around the car was empty. "Where is everyone?" I yelled. He told me they had all gone to get use the rest room. We were in some random tuulo and had taken a break. I attempted to get out the car but he was sitting on the end of my skirt. I was stuck there. "I want to stretch my legs. Move" He got up and I opened the door, pacing madly. I needed to pee. I looked around. There were no buildings. I looked at him. "I need to pee". He handed me a water bottle and pointed to big bush. Are you f*cking kidding me? I walked over to it and the woman from the backseat was already there,crouching. She looked over to me. "Find your own bush. I paid for it. Its mine" I rolled my eyes and stalked off finding another bush. I pulled my skirt up and pulled my underwear down. She looked over at me. "Nacas. That's not how you do it. Everyone can see your ass" I ignored her. Im not taking advice from a woman doing number two in a bush. I quickly peed, washed myself down and grabbed leaves from the bush to dry myself. This trip was already becoming a nightmare.
     
  11. Dibleyy

    Dibleyy

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    We were in Bosaso. Finally. I grabbed my stuff and as i attempted to leave, the driver asked me stay. "Maryan. I am in love with you. When i see you my heart stops beating" I rolled my eyes. Every other word coming out of his mouth was kalsooni. Kalsooni this kalsooni that. It was very common for these men to see a female fron diaspora and profess their love. They didn't realize how creepy they sounded. All they could imagine was a green card. "I need to get to Hargeisa" i said. "So why did you come to Bosaso?" "Because there were no cars going straight to Hargeisa". He looked at me like I was an idiot and explained that the trip to Hargeisa fron Garowe was much shorter. I had basically taken the scenic route. "I can take you to Hargeisa" he said. This man had a whole business to run, between Galkacyo and Bosaso and was going to scrap that to drive me to Hargeisa. I spoke up," Why would you drive me to Hargeisa and drive back". He looked at me ,"Because I love you". His words actually repulsed me, but I tolerated them because it wasn't a bad deal. I agreed to let him take me to Hargeisa. I decided ro pay for the trip and his gas because i felt guilty. Every now and then he would hold my hand in the car. I noticed that the checkpoints in Somaliland were 10x more aggressive and annoying. The officers constantly harassed my driver, whose name, i still didn't know. He would calm them down when he told them he was just dropping me off. They kept wanting to know why the hell he was coming there. They also searched through our trunk, treating me like Al Shabaab. They pressed us to give our IDs and held on to my passport for a long time before giving it back. I pulled out my phone and realized that i hadn't used it once the whole trip. I felt like a camper on their first camp trip, giving up their worldly possessions to be without technology. Before i could put my phone back in my purse, the driver grabbed it. He started hitting buttons and dialed. The call didn't work. Either I was out of money or my phone didn't work in Somaliland. I sat back in my seat as the driver announced we were in Hargeisa. He stopped and I tried ro get out and grab my things. "Honestly Maryan. I love you." Not this again. I got out the car,opened the trunk, grabbed my things and ran off. He tried to call after me, but i didn't want to deal with it. Once i successfully evaded him, I dug in my purse to try and call Asma, when i realized he still had my phone. I walked back towards where he was parked with my tail between my legs, but he was gone. I was so frustrated. I looked around for some sort of assistance , but the people around me all had an attitude. How could i be so dumb? It was probably why he was calling out to me. I roamed around as it started to get dark. This is not good. In a foreign city, by myself, at night. All of a sudden, I walked by a building. It was equivalent to seeing McDonald's golden arches as a child. It was an internet café. I strolled in and hopped on a computer. The computer was password protected. A man came behind me and logged me in. I quickly opened my Facebook and messaged Asma. "You wouldn't believe where I am right now!" She didn't respond. I sat there playing the waiting game. Hours passed and my computer fee was piling up. I wasn't sure how much it costed and didn't want to risk it. I grabbed a pencil and paper beside me and jotted down Asma's number. A man beside me was yelling into his phone. "i hate this place Hooyo. I want to go home." He had a extremely soft voice and an English accent. I could relate to his eagerness to leave. I waited for him to finish his call and asked to use his phone. He looked happy to have made human interaction. "Sure girl" he said giddily. He handed me his phone. I dialed Asma. She picked up on the first ring. "Hello. Who is this?" "Asma , it is Maryan im in Hargeisa. At ______ internet café. Come pick me up. im tired" "Oh my god. We are coming right now. Stay there" I hung up and passed the man his phone. I got up to pay the clerk at the cafe and then returned to my seat. "So Maryan, right?, The man whose phone I had just used spoke. I nodded. He spoke again. "Well my name is Ali. But all my friends back home call me Alex". I nodded again. "You don't speak much do you?" ,He asked. I spoke, "Im sorry if im being a bitch, it has been a long few days". He smiled all too knowing, "Trust me girl, I know what you mean" All of a sudden Asma came in, jumping onto me. "omg Maryan. Im so happy you're here". She smelled of alcohol and hookah. A scent I had come to despise. She looked over at Ali or Alex. "Hey Ali". He smiled, fakely. We stood at the cafe catching up when she told me she could drop my bag at her grandma's house and we could go party. I declined. I felt very dirty and tired. "Can we start partying tomorrow?" She agreed. I said bye to Ali and thanked him for his help before following Asma out. She put my suitcase in the trunk of the newer model car before hopping into the passenger seat. I slid into the back. The driver was a handsome man with a nice beard. "Maryan this is my boyfriend Guled. Guled this is Maryan." We exchanged pleasantries and he dropped us at Asma's place. I got out the car and grabbed my things. We walked into Asma's grandma's house. She was sitting drinking tea and eating xalwo. The house was huge and had an amazing garden. The grandma looked at me and i walked over to introduce myself. Asma spoke before i could. "Hey ayeeyo, this is my friend from back home. She is visiting from Galkacyo." The woman's face soured. "Galkacyo?" She repeated. I nodded. She asked for my name. "Maryan". She stared at me like a mob boss. "well Maryan, who birthed you?" She asked me in Somali. I nervously told her my parents names. She scoffed. "No i mean who are you?. It took me a second to register she was asking for my clan. "I am Lelkase". The answer seemed to satisfy her. Then she asked" what is your mom?" I told her Majerteen. She was back to scowling. Asma just ushered me away.
     
  12. Mehmet

    Mehmet

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    Maybe their guarding her from creeps and are her male cousins
     
  13. Dibleyy

    Dibleyy

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    She took me to a large bedroom with a huge TV in the front and a mini fridge. "This is your room". I was bewildered. This was supposed to be a guest room? Just my luck.

    Asma got up to leave after hours of socializing and filling me in on her time here. "We need to get some rest. Tomorrow, Guled is taking us to Sheekh" any other day i would have been excited but I was over road trips. "I think you guys should go. I'll just call Ali to hang out if i get bored. I don't want to third wheel." She looked appalled. "I hope you don't have a crush on Ali" I certainly didnt but i felt bad that she found him so unattractive. He was a nice guy. "No I don't". "Good. Cause he likes men anyways" , she responded. She then shut off my lights and closed the door.

    I got out of bed at 1pm. The difference between my family home in Galkacyo and here at Asma's was that I was forced to wake up for prayer. Neither Asma nor her grandma bothered to pray, so we all just ignored the calls to prayer booming loudly through the city. The maid cooked us a feast of a lunch and then exited the prenises. After stuffing themselves, Asma and her grandmother began to sit in the living room turning on the fan. They sat on the floor and rubbed cream into their arms and legs and face. After applying the creams they began to put on bags over their legs and arms, tying them tight. They then slipped on long soccer socks and laid there in the breeze. "You got really dark Maryan. Would you like some?" asked Asma. I declined. It wasn't that i wasnt interested in becoming fairer skinned. It was just that i tended to break out and didn't want to risk it. "How long do you plan to sit like this?" She shrugged. "Couple hours per day". Asma's grandma ignored us both, too into her routine. I looked at their nice diracs and my tattered ones that had seen better days. "I want to walk down to the market and get some new baatis". Asma scoffed. "Right now? Are you crazy? No girl who loves her skin goes out while the sun is still out. I will give you a baati." She got up and the bags made whoosh sounds as she walked. She grabbed some baatis and handed them to me.

    After showering and changing, she offered me the chance to go with her and Guled again. "I just don't want to third wheel" i groaned. She sighed. "Well, he has a lot of friends. He can invite one" I just didn't feel up to it. I would rather stay in the city. "I'll just reschedule for another day. We can hang out in the city" . As soon as it started to darken outside , Asma washed up and got ready. I put my scarf on my head and she asked me, "What are you doing?" I was genuinely confused. "Putting on my hijab." She rolled her eyes. "I know that, but why is your hair not done? " I patted my slick bun self-consciously. "Who will see it?" She ignored me and took my hair out tbe bun, bringing out a straightener and straightening my hair. While she styled my hair she commented,"All the girls take off their hijab once they enter the shisha spot.Its a safe zone". I was unsure. "I don't know Asma. We are in Somalia". She laughed wickedly. "No Hun, we are in Somaliland and this is a free country" I didn't want to get into a political debate about how i didn't consider Somaliland it's own nation, so i ignored her. But I did argue the hijab topic,"We are Muslims.This is crazy". Asma was annoyed,"Maryan you don't even wear hijab back home". She had a point but i still defended my stance. "when in Rome, you do as the Romans do. When in Somalia, you do as the Somalis" . "Maryan, stop being difficult and go with the flow" She was right. Since when did I care about these things? I knew wben. It was since Yusuf had all but called me a scandalous thot. Yusuf's words had really affected me to the point where he wasn't even around and I wanted to be well behaved. All of a sudden i had the urge to call him. "I need a phone Asma". "I have two. You can use one of mine, while you are here". Of course she did. I found myself growing envious of her wealth in Somalia.

    Guled picked us up at 9:30 and complimented me on my look, all while staring. I started to blush. Asma on the other hand insulted him. I was taken aback by her tone, but the whole ride there the two insulted each other. I felt like I was watching a stereotype come true. You know that stereotype where people up North are extremely rude but somehow understand each other? Yeah, that was Guled and Asma in a nutshell. I admired their relationship. We pulled up at a shisha spot. Unlike Galkacyo, it wasn't a secret home to avoid the police and the people. It was an open spot that was widely accepted within the city. We entered and sat in a booth, smoking away on shisha. The venue did not go as far as selling alcohol, but like a Western film, Guled has a silver flask in his thin coat. He pulled it out and discreetly took a swig,passing it to Asma who did the same. She passed it to me and i quickly passed it back to Guled. "I don't drink" I spoke defensively. Asma spoke up "You tried it before Maryan. When we took that trip to San Diego". I was embarrassed she mentioned it in front of Guled. "That was once" He seemed amused. I continued to smoke while Guled and Asma half flirted and half fought. By 11, Guled got a call and excused himself.

    "It's the wifey. I have to go", murmured Guled. Asma shrugged it off. "We ain't worried" she dismissed. He passed her his flask and patted her head like a child or a pet and left. Once he was out of sight, I gasped. "He's married?" She shrugged. "So what?" I pressed further, "Does his wife know, you're seeing him?" She rolled her eyes. "Maryan we are in Africa, not the states. Women here don't give a shit who their husband is seeing" I knew she was wrong but let her believe what she wanted to. "So how are we gonna get home now?" She took a gulp of the flask and pointed to two men sitting together and chewing khat. "Lets go" she got up and sat right beside them. I stayed in my spot, uncomfortable. I looked back at her and this time they were all staring at me. She waved me over. I got up and sat beside them. She took a sip from the flask and passed it to the men. They each took a gulp and passed it towards me. This time I didn't decline. And instead of taking a modest sip or gulp. I finished the contents.

    My head was pounding. We were at a seedy home in the JigJiga Yar area. On the outside, the home looked meticulous. On the inside, it looked like a Project X party had occurred. I sat on a couch with Asma. We both were drinking gin out of cups. Asma and the two men, Awale and Bileh were chewing leafy stems of khaat together. Awale offered me some, but i declined. That was one vice I couldn't understand. He then smiled and said he had something for me. He reached into the breast pocket of his button up and retrieved some marijuana. It looked like what we would call Reggie bush in Minnesota. The lowest of quality. But it would suffice. He rolled it for me in a wrap and lit the joint for me, passing it to me. I inhaled and inhaled. The feeling was magical. It didn't feel like weed. It felt like I was in the clouds. Like I was above ground, levitating. This would become a hobby for Asma and I. When Guled was too busy with his husband duties and looking after his newborn son, we would call Awale and Bileh and smoke with them all night. Soon enough, i stopped drinking again and focused on having one vice, hashish.

    I don't know when I began my random bouts of paranoia. But the fear manifested around the time i started smoking with Awale and Bileh. I would always look around in constant fear of something. I wasn't sure what. The fear spiraled out of control and for a time I was convinced there was someone after me. I sat in that home in JigJiga Yar for what felt like the millionth time. But this time it was different. There was a lot of people there and one in particular wouldn't stop staring at me. I would look up and there he was. I started sweating profusely and excused myself to the rest room. I splashed my face with cold water and tried to convince myself he wasn't after me. But a voice in my head told me he was. I decided that i had never been a coward and would face him head on. I ran up to him.

    "What do you want from me?" He looked perplexed. Asma came to my defense. "Maryan. What did he do?" "hes staring at me" I yelled. She raised an eyebrow. I realized she was unsure of what i was saying, so i broke it down further. "He wants to kill me. I know it. The way he was looking at me. Hes been after me for weeks". "Maryan he just came to Hargeisa 3 nights ago". "No I saw him before" At this point everyone was watching me in the house . I felt like the odd woman out. I heard Awale say, "She went crazy. Some people aren't built for the bashaal" Bileh started laughing with him. I grabbed a hookah pipe and threw it at his head and someone lifted me up and slammed me to the floor. Everything went black.

    I woke up hearing wails and screams. I was in a hospital. I looked around me. Everyone was distressed. Some were staring at me. One woman stripped naked and urinated on the floor. I wasn't in a hospital. I was in an asylum.
     
  14. Dibleyy

    Dibleyy

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    How did I get here? How did i get to the point where I am sitting beside some women who are chained to the wall. The place smelled extremely foul. I burst into tears. One of the guards just looked at me and turned away. I heard someone yell my name from outside the window. I turned to see Ali.
    "Ali!Alex!" I shriek. He asks me what I am doing here. I broke down and cried,explaining the events. "Why didn't Asma come to get you out? Her grandma could just make one phone call. Shes that powerful" I shrugged. I was unsure myself. He looked at me through the window sadly. "I wish i could help." I sighed. "What are you doing here?", I asked him. He responded. "Same situation as you. My family thinks I am sick and need help. But Guled has come to pick me up" He pointed to the familiar vehicle that Asma's boyfriend drove. "How do you know Guled?" I asked. "He's my brother". I grew hopeful. "Do you think you could talk to him for me?" "He hates my guts and doesn't speak to me, but I will try. Give me a second."

    A second turned to 2 hours and I lost hope. Ali was not gonna return, but it wasnt his fault. Then the door to the women's section slid open and the guard called me out. I was free to go. I stepped outside and there was Asma and Guled . Asma hugged me. "I've been so worried. You scared me. Maryan are you okay?" I wasn't in the mood for conversation. My head was hurting. I thanked Guled for helping and asked him to thank Ali for me. He frowned "Thank him for what?" "For telling you to help me" "Asma told me, not him" "Well then where did he go?" I asked. He shrugged. "I don't keep tabs on that f*ggot. If my parents didn't beg me to mind my business, he would be dead". I shut my mouth and followed them to the car. "Are you hungry?", Asked Guled. I wanted to be a lady and decline but the truth was I was starving. I nodded. He led Asma and I to a restaurant and we sat and ate. I felt eyes on me the whole time. I didn't know if I was hallucinating or if everyone knew about my outburst. I sunk into my chair. Guled noticed my discomfort and asked if I was okay. "Im fine". I finished my food and hurried the two out.

    "I can't wait to go to that big bed and sleep" I exclaimed, while riding in the car. Asma nervously bit her lip. "My grandma heard about yesterday. She would rather us stay elsewhere". I wanted to cry again. Asma said us to make me feel better. Her grandma just didn't want to see me. We pulled into her grandma's home. "Just wait here while I grab my stuff and yours". We sat in the car. "Do you know where we are gonna stay?" He nodded. "Asma's aunt said you guys can stay with her" The car got silent before Guled spoke again. "Look. Take my number and call me if you need anything. I won't tell Asma about it " I tried to decline. "It's really no problem Maryan. I just want to help you. If she was a friend she wouldn't have let you end up there." In my head i thought, like you let your brother stay there? But i dismissed the thought and took his number down. Asma hauled all her things into the trunk, followed by mine, then shut it. "Road trip!" She yelled excitedly. "Wait. Where are we going?" I asked. "Burco"

    Burco was nothing like Hargeisa. It was like being in Galkacyo all over again. Small minds. Talkative people. And a depressing environment. I spent most my nights cooped up in the bedroom. I had left Galkacyo in June and we were nearing August 1st. I was suffering from depression. I would sit in the room and contemplate suicide. I would get anxiety and worry about potential situations that could happen. My mind was on overload. Asma was growing tired of my personality. Before i came, she was having a lot of fun. Now I was holding her back. Instead of being in Hargeisa and being Guled's mistress, she was stuck in Burco babying me. "You know, Maryan, if you hate Africa so much, why not just fly back to Minnesota?" It all sounded like a good idea. But go home to what? We were no longer 15 year olds with fake IDs who had all the time in the world. We were grown women with no education, no job and nothing to look forward to back home. Where would I start? The thought sunk me further into depression. While every girl in my city was going to dugsi and studying for a career in nursing, i was being a rebel. Now it seemed as if they had the last laugh. I wish i had brought the cracked laptop with me to Somaliland. Then i could see what all my peers were up to, so i could torture myself some more. I wondered what the other girls were up to in Hargeisa. Asma had never mentioned them. So i asked her. "Oh those girls? Theyre on the hunt for marriage. Trying become wives to the heirs of businesses in Somali land. They try to keep a clean reputation here" I envied them for their smarts and ability to keep it together in Somalia. "Do you have a computer?" I asked. She pointed towards her cousins room. "They have one in there, but its a full PC. You have to go associate at some point". That made me feel bad. I had waltzed my way into their home and had not made any effort to acknowledge them.

    I made my way to their room, where the 3 sisters Sumayo,Sahra & Salma sat with their mother. They all looked at me. Salma stood out to me because she reminded me of me. We looked like we could be related. Her mother looked like she noticed it for the first time "Wow. Masha Allah you two are twins" I smiled and made small talk with them. Eventually, I weaseled my way onto their computer. I logged into my Facebook and had 55 new messages. My stomach dropped and i dreaded clicking on them. In the midst of all this partying, I had forgotten that I was a runaway. My brother was at the top of my unread messages. "When you come back to Minnesota im going to beat your a** you f*cking slut. "

    Then my father, "Maryan call me."

    Then my mother, "You think you are smarter than all of us. Doqon. Your whole life your friends lead you. Casi. No respect for family. Disgusting. Istubid.

    I had messages from my uncles. The one in Galkacyo. And other ones in Germany and Norway. I was humiliated that my whole family knew about me running away. I took Salma's phone and called my uncle in Galkacyo.
    "Hello"
    "Abti. It's Maryan. Please don't be mad i was just staying with a friend. I am sorry. I don't know what i was thinking" I just kept apologizing knowing that my uncle would feel bad.
    "Are you still in Hargeisa?"
    "im in Burco"
    "You have shamed our family"
    I cried some more. "Abti. Please forgive me. Im really sorry"
    "Come back now"
    "I will abti. I will take a car first thing tomorrow"
    "Car? So you can shame me like last time? Sitting with a man by yourself all the way to Hargeisa? "
    "How do you know I was by myself?"
    "He came to me with your phone"
    I went silent.
    My uncles sighed. "I will find the next flight from Hargeisa to Galkacyo. In the mean time. Get back to Hargeisa now" I agreed.

    I had no more money so I had to go ask Asma if she was willing to pay for our trip. She was excited. No doubt to go see Guled again. A part of me was envious. How can I be jealous of a chick who is a side piece?

    We were 30 minutes into our drive when i noticed my passport was missing. "Asma. My passport is gone! " She looked at me shocked. "Where did you put it?" I always put it in the same spot. Now I was afraid we had left it at her aunts house. "Can we turn around" I yelled. The driver, the other random passenger and Asma looked irritated. I didn't care. That was my ID. It was my life. We pull back into the house and flip the bedroom upside down looking for it. The behavior of the three sister and their mother is not sitting right with me. They looked sneaky. So i went to the moms room and began searching around. "What are you doing? " She gasped. I ignored her and kept flipping her things around. I finally gave up and noticed a smug look on Salma's face. Asma yells, "Lets just go Maryan. You can get a new one from the embassy" I snort "In Ethiopia or Kenya? Or did Somalia randomly get their own embassy now?" She shrugged. "What can we do? It's not here" . I sigh and look down defeated. As i glance back up I notice that Salma's dirac is tucked differently than her sisters. I walk up to her and snatch her dirac out of its tucked position and my passport drops to the floor.
     
  15. Dibleyy

    Dibleyy

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    I sat on my Jubba Airways flight sipping a cheap carbonated drink. I was dreading my arrival to Galkacyo. Mainly because I just knew my uncle would be standing right in front of Abdullahi Yusuf International Airport, waiting to strangle me. I waited until everyone got off the flight to get off. My uncle stood there with his arms crossed. I hugged him but he didn't hug back. He grabbed my things and led me to his car. I sat in the passenger seat while he put on some Quran. For some reason the sound of the holy Quran was bothering me. I had never felt uncomfortable with the sound of music, but right now i had an ear splitting headache. I started to feel almost as if I was suffocating. I felt like I was slowly losing my religion. My uncle finally pulled into his home and shut off his car. My cousins sat waiting for me. Although i knew they were mad, they hugged me. They had prepared a feast for me as if I was arriving from Minneapolis for the first time. I sat with then and my uncle chewed silently beside us. "I just don't understand. You have 7 sister and they're all perfect. And then you" All of a sudden i just lost my appetite. I put my fork down and went to my room. I laid down and saw Nasteha enter the room. She tossed something beside me on the bed. It was my phone. I opened it and saw all the missed calls. Mostly from Abdi & a few from a person named Najib. None from Yusuf. I called Najib and the man answered quickly. "Who is this?" I asked. "Remember i drove you to Hargeisa?" I felt bad about the way I had run from him. "Why were you calling me, when you knew I was out of town?" "i knew you would be back eventually. I just didn't know when." I was kind of happy to find someone who was obsessed with me. He started to call me daily.

    One afternoon he asked me if i could come hang out with him in his car late at night. "No I don't think would be appropriate". All of a sudden his tone changed. "I forgot that you diaspora girls act innocent when it comes to us men in Somalia, but will do anything a diaspora guy says." His words irritated me. I hung up and called Yusuf to see what he was up to. He answered on the first ring.
    "Maryan! You're alive?"
    "why wouldn't I be?"
    "No reason. How you been?"
    "Good. Good" ,
    "That's good"
    Awkward silence. Finally he cleared his throat and said "So why did you call me?"
    "I was just bored"
    "Maryan. I told you i can't be anything to you."
    "I just want to be friends" I pleaded.
    He sighed but then agreed. We spoke all night about my time in Somalia. I kept certain things out of my story. The asylum. The drugs. The liquor. The shisha. Okay, so I kept everything from him. Once i got off the phone I was so happy. I looked down at a text from Najib. It said "Sorry". I didn't reply and slept instead.

    When i woke up, Najib was in my uncles house. With my uncle. I came out with my hair wild and dirac ripped from the shoulder. My uncle was displeased. "Go cover yourself.We have company". I returned back, this time covered. "What are you doing here?" I asked him. My uncle dismissed me as if to say it was a manly conversation. I went back to my room.

    My uncle bursts into my room happily. All of a sudden, I am confused. What is going on? He says to me, "That man wants to marry you. I told your mom. He was very respectful about it. He wants to spend time with you, with my permission" All of a sudden i felt nauseous. He knew I didnt like him and still went to ask my uncle if he could see me for the sake of marriage. I was growing angrier by the minute. My uncle added, "Your mom and dad are so happy that you have a chance to settle down." I yelled at my uncle, "I dont like him". My uncle scoffed at me, "Tell me what the men you like have done for you. Marriage is not about like. It's about marrying someone who respects you and fears Allah and is a hard worker. Najib is all those things" My face burned because my uncle was right. I still wanted to be petty. "He doesn't have money. He's a driver." My uncle shrugged. "Money is not everything. He is a hard worker with a job and xoolo" My uncle looked at my pained expression and added, "You don't have marry him Maryan. We can't force you to do anything. But I would like you to give him a chance." And with that he walked out


    My Dhaqan Celis Experience Part 12

    Najib showed up to our late night meeting smelling like sweat. On top of that he sprayed cologne all over himself. The scent was driving me mad. I also hated how he just said hi to me like nothing had happened. Like he hadn't forced my hand. I hated how he dismissed my feelings and just did what he wanted. It was very typical Reer Mudug behavior. My uncle left us alone and listened to BBC radio nearby in the other room. Both my cousins went to sleep. I sat there silent.
    "Maryan. I only went to your uncle because you never gave me a proper chance"
    That comment annoyed me. I didnt owe him a chance. But what was different about my thirst for Yusuf and his thirst for me? It horrified me that Najib and I were alike.
    I decided I would give Najib a chance. But I would also be brutally honest with him and if he couldn't handle it, too bad.
    "They locked me in an asylum in Hargeisa"
    He laughed. "Thats okay.99% of Somaliland suffers from mental illness"
    "I smoke shisha" i spoke up
    "You won't anymore" he stated.
    "I smoked cigarettes and drank alcohol in Hargeisa"
    This time his answer was slow. "Well you don't anymore do you?
    I shook my head. "No , but i dont pray and I don't like to listen to the Quran"
    "Your Iman is lacking. I will help you with that".
    Finally, I blurted, "Im not a virgin"
    That statement interestingly was the only real annoyance that crossed his face. He was visibly bothered. He then kept asking me why I was trying to make him angry. I wasn't. I just for once didn't want to pretend to be someone i wasnt. He finished his tea and looked at his watch. He wanted to wrap up the conversation. I didn't mind either I was tired. I went to bed a little nervous about Najib. Was he done with me? Why did i even care? He wasn't my type. But in typical Maryan fashion , my whole life depended on approval.

    The next day Najib didnt call or come. Yusuf had called twice and surprisingly I didnt answer. My uncle was convinced I had purposely sabotaged myself. I wasn't sure that i had. In fact, i began waiting on Najib to call. After 4 or so days, Najib didnt make any effort to see me. Finally he popped by. My uncle was ecstatic to see him. We sat again and chit chatted but this time it was strained. Faduma served us some tea and i noticed Najib check her out. I started to grow irritated but kept my composure. Najib stayed long but didnt speak to me and kept stealing glances at my cousin. I pretended not to notice and when i went to my room that night, Faduma approached me.

    "Maryan, I know you dont want Najib and i get the feeling that he likes me. Would you mind if he went to dad about me?"
    I shook my head quickly. "No. Hes all yours" inside I was fuming. I slept and wondered why my life was so terrible.

    I got my answer the next day as Yusuf called me . This time i answered. My insecurities needed me to have atleast one person to talk to.
    "Hey friend", he stressed the word friend to annoy me.
    "Nothing just licking my wounds" I surprisingly admitted.
    He asked why and i broke down the situation of Najib switching his affection to my cousin.
    "Nasteha?" Asked Yusuf.
    "No Faduma", i clarified. Wondering how he knew my cousin.
    "Oh.Good."
    Why the hell was that good? I gasped as i concluded that Yusuf wanted Nasteha. And now Najib wanted Faduma. And I was stuck with nothing. Maybe if I was lucky I coukd drag Abdi's drunken body to the nearest imam to marry us.
    I finally snapped out of my daze. "So you are feeling Nasteha?" I pressed.
    He chuckled and said yes. "Shes perfect. She doesn't leave the house. She cooks. She cleans. Shes religious. Shes obedient."
    I wanted to barf.
     
  16. Dibleyy

    Dibleyy

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    Najib never expressed his interest about courting my cousin Faduma to her father. I think deep down, he feared how my uncle would perceive him jumping from one female to another in the house. So he would come to see me and i would socialize with him and wait until my uncle slept, so that Faduma could come and trade places. I laid in my bed when my phone went off. It was Halima. I answered and she acted as if we had never had an issue. "Maryan girl. Long time no see" I was still slightly terrified of her but I kept my composure and feigned friendship. "Hey Halima. I hope we can put the past behind us" She laughed. "Of course. Water under the bridge.Lets hang out today" "Actually I wanted to stay home" "Perfect im coming over" *click*. I shuddered. The Somali version of Single White Female was coming over. Time to say my prayers. Speaking of prayer, ever since my lack of relationship with both Najib and Yusuf, I had turned to Allah. I wasn't religious by any stretch of the imagination but, I had come to the conclusion that I based all my worth on what the opposite sex thought of me. It was why I drank. It was why i stopped drinking. It was why i had committed zina. It was why I had stopped. Everything was because of the perception of men. I wanted to have a purpose and a reason for doing things. And ever since i started my daily prayers I felt a weight lifted off my shoulders.

    When Halima came over she looked around as if she was hunting for something. She had a black eye. "What happened?" I asked. She brushed me off. "I walked into the door". I frowned but dismissed it because I genuinely didnt care. She attempted to light a cigarette but i quckly stopped her. "It's not that type of household anymore. My uncle will be angry" She put it away. "Something is different about you. You aren't fun anymore". I ignored her and we sat and continued to have fake conversation. It was really late and i did not want Halima to get the idea she was sleeping over so I led her out. While leaving she asked about Nasteha. I was puzzled. "What about her?" She shrugged. "Nothing. Just heard shes getting close to Yusuf these days. " I didn't have the heart to mention to her that Yusuf had already approached my uncle for Nasteha's hand. I also didn't want to bear the brunt of it.

    The day of Nasteha's nikkah, the home was packed with my uncle's friends and relatives. A man sat beside my uncle. He was not attractive at all and looked to be in his mid thirties with a belly. He was watching me like a hound. I felt paranoid again and dismissed it. He then turned to my uncle and they both looked in my direction as if they had been speaking of me. I quickly ran back into the rooms. I had no business being out amongst the men anyway.

    By the time the party cleared up, the house was buzzing
    Yusuf's family had given my uncle a pretty penny. In addition to that, he had a good job in the city and a degree from abroad. My uncle sat with us 3 women and said "3 girls in one month would be great". We were all confused. He mentioned the man from earlier. "He asked about Maryan but i told him to meet Faduma because Maryan and Najib are to marry". Faduma choked on her drink. Her father sensed her unease about the man ans assumed it was due to his appearance. "Dont worry about looks Faduma. Hes a good man, with a great career and he lives in Canada." That immediately changed things for Faduma. All of a sudden i saw an interested glint in her eye. "I will give him a chance" said Faduma. Once her father retired for the night, i asked about Najib. "What about him?" she responded. "He likes you and you like him. Why dont you marry him?" "You didnt even want him for yourself, but now you want me to marry him. He doesnt have anything and he has no education". I didn't bother to comment that education in Somalia was so terrible and that she still didn't know anything after years of schooling. I dismissed the convo. "Tonight is Nasteha's night. Forget about Najib". Faduma was satisfied with that response.

    Within a week, Faduma and Khalid married. Faduma was in such a rush to marry. I wasnt sure if she was jealous of her sister and wanted to one up her. But she did. He pregnant looking husband from Canada was a generous man. Faduma had also set her sights on leaving Somalia. She wanted to live in Canada with her husband. She didn't even tell Najib about her wedding. She just ignored his calls.

    After we left Faduma's new home with her husband, i ended up at my uncle's home alone. Najib called me. "Is it true?" I replied honestly and he cried to me. He told me he should have stayed with me but was disappointed in my behaviour. I told him we were not meant to be. He responded, "Maybe we are. The best love comes after marriage". "So what are you saying?" I asked. He said maybe we should just get married. And so we did.
     
  17. Dibleyy

    Dibleyy

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    My Dhaqan Celis Part 14- Final Part

    Im kind of tired of typing so I'm just going to give a point form where are they now comment.

    Maryan aka Me= 3 Months after marrying Najib, i went back to Minnesota, enrolled in university and forgot about him. I know its messed up, but once I set foot on American soil I dismissed everything as a fling.

    Najib- Depressed with me no longer being in contact with him after going back home and my cousin,his true love marrying a Canadian. He developed buufis and did tahriib. Thankfully he survived. He now lives in Germany. We are divorced.

    Faduma. Has one child for her husband who lives in Canada. Khalid has made it clear that she will never live in Toronto with him where he and his first wife live. She has accepted that her future is Galkacyo.

    Nasteha- After being severely beaten by Yusuf multiple times, my cousin divorced him and moved to Zambia where she is in school. She married a man in Lusaka one month later.

    Yusuf- has married 3 times in less than a year. All his wives leave screaming abuse.

    Halima- is still in Galkacyo, holding hopes of marrying Yusuf like a 30 year old Farax who used to play ball and still has hoop dreams

    Abdi- was shot and killed by askari after a drunken confrontation

    Mohamed Sweden- still roaming the streets of Galkacyo, rumor has it Sweden deported him after a rape charge

    Asma- Asma got pregnant for Guled who denied the baby.. Eventually their Habar Yonis clan sat down together to form a solution. She is now his second wife.

    Guled- he still owes me a favor. One day i will collect.

    Ali/Alex- He is back in the UK and swears to never set foot in Somaliland again. He added me randomly on Facebook and has a white male roommate.

    Who am i to judge though?


    Thanks for reading guys
     
  18. Jaydaan

    Jaydaan

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    Read the whole thing...sound believable until she said she went back and enrolled in university. I thought she was 15 and this was her summer? If its fake then great story telling i have to say lol
     
  19. Libaaxseendheer

    Libaaxseendheer Pan-african

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  20. HalimaJ

    HalimaJ

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    Happy ending

    Messed up story.
     
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