My Memory of February 4 In 1991 And Borama’s Genocide.
Part 2: By Cabdale Faarah Sigad
Few minutes later the SNM killers smashed our door and came into the house.
While their accompanies ;(Mengistu’s troops) were guarding them outside. Helplessly my young cousin Abdi and I could hear the screams and the cries for help coming from our family and there was no damn thing we could do but to lay on our tummies and pray to God to spare our family. We also could hear the men demanding Jewellery and other family savings while they were terrorising them.
My cousin Abdi who was two years younger than me panicked as we were laying down and he tried to get up but I held him down. While we were both frightened to death, shots were fired in the house adding to our fears, and at that split second I remember what my aunty had told us while we were going on the roof, she told us (What ever happen don’t come down). I grabbed my cousin’s shirt and held him down thinking that he may jump, or maybe I was scared that he may give away our cover.
Any way for some strange reasons everything gone quiet in the house after a gun shot approximately half a minute or so. Then the screams and cries started again. I knew my aunt’s voice and believe me even though she was crying I was relieve she was still alive after that gunshots. (Little had I known).
What was roughly about 30 minutes of incursion and massacre felt like a century of a torture, then the gunmen left the house but not far away and while they were outside the house, they fire about five or more shots but we didn’t know why and who the shots were aimed to. Then they went as far as to our next door neighbour and it was not yet safe for us to come down. But we could sense something horrific had happened to our family because my aunty couldn’t stop crying and we couldn’t hear any other voice. So in my wishful thought, or may be my selfishness I had invented a thought and told myself if I could hear my aunt’s voice that meant she was still alive and as I was not hearing the pregnant woman’s voice may be she was her who got shot.( I feel pathetic now about that selfish thought)
The gunmen started to terrorise our next door neighbour and the nightmare which visited our family earlier, this time was slaughtering our neighbour and gun fires were going off inside their house but little we could have done to help them. I remember just before these wicked men came to our neighbourhood eight members of a same family were present in their home our next door neighbour, and I knew that because I was in their house playing Ludo with my friend Hussein who was one of four sons in the family just before we heard the Enemy’s arrival. We also could hear from where we were their mother pleading the gunmen to spare her sons and her husband. Then all of sudden a separate incident of gun fires begun outside and those men in the house went out. Another thirty minutes of genocide was over and it was a time for me and for my cousin to come down and see what happened to our family.
Soon was clear to us the despicable atrocity those evil men committed. My Aunty was sitting in a pool of blood in front of the toilet and a moment or so, I thought that my aunty was wounded but I soon found out my 11years old cousin Nimco had been murdered. They shot Nimco because the men were bit jumpy and she came out from the toilet unexpectedly while they were rampaging in the house and assaulting other members in the house. Apparently Nimco had been shot until their bullet cases were empty and every part of her body had a bullet holes.
She was in my aunt’s lap and my aunty was sitting in a pool of her daughter’s blood and her face and cloth were all painted with a blood. For a moment I didn’t know where I was nor did I know what to do. I didn’t know even whether to comfort my aunty or to run away or to cry. Believe me it felt like doomsday. Then I saw my cousin Abdi who fainted and fell onto the floor when he saw the blood and I tried to help him because he fell on to the floor in a bad way but I couldn’t move. It felt like one of these nightmare dreams, where you try to run away from something scary but you can’t move your legs.
However Abdi regained his conscious and managed to get up without my help and I decided to move towards my aunty. As I was walking towards her I slipped and fell on to the floor next to my aunt because every where around her was full of blood. She looked at me and said (Mohamed) I still don’t know if she thought if I was her son Mohamed who was not with us at the time or if she was asking me where he was but I knew she was worrying about him.
Continue—
Source:
http://harowo.com/2007/01/16/my-memory- ... enocide-2/