Hamse Abdilahi is a Somali community activist and writer. He is a postgraduate student at Kellogg College, University of Oxford, studying for an MSc in Sustainable Urban Development. Here he tells us about his childhood in Somaliland and he shares ten lessons which he learnt on his way to being accepted to study at the University of Oxford. Hamse is also former Mandela Washington Fellow at the University of Delaware and a former Chevening Scholar at Bristol University.
I watched the majestic sight of sunrise from my half-empty Oxford-bound train window. Trying to figure out how my long educational journey culminated to that very dawn, I had a deep sense of appreciation for the great people who helped me along the way. The train’s automatic voice kept calling out the various stops it made along the Bristol-Oxford route. Even the cold October morning couldn’t dent my excitement to report to Oxford University for my course registration. As the train reached my destination, I grabbed my luggage and headed out of the small but otherwise packed train station. I patiently waited for a taxi at the parking space outside and it didn’t take long when a black taxi arrived. ‘Where?’ asked the taxi driver. ‘Kellogg College’ I answered.’ ‘Oh Kellogg’ smiled the taxi driver implying his familiarity with my destination.
At Kellogg College, I grabbed a cup of coffee and a biscuit. Students, dressed in black gown and hat, a white shirt and bow tie, continued to gather at the college for the matriculation day. Matriculation is an elaborate ceremony and an old Oxford tradition which is normally done in the first week of the Michaelmas Term — the first term according to the Oxford language. It is the last step of the University’s long and rigorous admission process where students are formally admitted to the various colleges they were accepted to. We marched to the Sheldonian Theatre where the Vice Chancellor read a centuries-old brief speech in Latin and English welcoming students to the university and wishing them a successful life. We then marched back to Kellogg for a group photo, lunch and conversations with students and college staff over tea. Despite the long day, it was a sigh of relief for me, for I was finally and officially an Oxford University student and a proud member of Kellogg College. But my pride was tempered by humility because of my very humble background.
Kellogg College is Oxford University’s largest college by student size and the most international of all of Oxford University’s 38 colleges. A college does not mean a department or a faculty as many would expect, but rather an autonomous and self-governing corporation within the university. It is like a government within a government. The collegiate system entails that all teaching staff and students must belong to one of the colleges. Colleges have substantial amount of responsibilities which include administering houses of residence and tutorials. A typical Oxford college would comprise of a dining hall, a chapel, a library, a college bar, postgraduate and junior common rooms, lodgings for the dons etc. However, the university departments run the traditional tasks such as organising lectures, examinations, laboratories and central libraries.
My long journey to Kellogg College wasn’t all rosy. Raised by my maternal grandmother, I started school in a roofless building in Hargeisa in the early nineties. The city suffered a complete and spectacular devastation in the Somalia civil war. Occasionally, on my way back from school, I would come across people bleeding profusely after their legs were blown off by mines. I watched them helplessly as they were carried away on to the back of truck to be transferred to the nearest hospital which had little or no medical supplies. ‘Maybe I would help them when I grow up’ I would console myself and head home. The roofless school was short-lived as another civil war broke out forcing us to leave the town. Luckily, in several months, the war stopped, and my schooling was never interrupted again. This, however, was not the case in southern Somalia, where the conflict has endured and lasted to date.
The secessionist agenda which Somaliland pursued following the seemingly irreversible state collapse in Somalia has had the most dramatic effect on me and my generation. In one way, it spared us from the violence that consumed the rest of Somalia, but it also left us in an awkward situation. The idea of living in an internationally unrecognised state is unusual. There are only a little over a dozen unrecognised or de facto states in the world. Lacking official international recognition means that there are no diplomatic missions in the country, you can’t travel outside the country since you lack a valid and recognised passport, the government cannot go into formal trade deal nor binding international agreements with other nations and international organisations. In other words, you are stuck, the country is stuck, and everybody is stuck. And ever since, the country grappled with poverty and painstaking state building in the face of international diplomatic isolation. Lacking in infrastructure and near non-existent public services compounded the austere life in Somaliland. Working hard in school was the key to escaping not only the poverty but also breaking free from the shackles of that diplomatic ‘cage’. Despite such circumstances, I feel fortunate that both my undergrad and postgrad studies came through a merit-based scholarship all of which were competed nationally.
How did you end up at Oxford? Did you ever imagine going to Oxford? These are the common questions people ask me every time. Of course, I imagined being at Oxford, but I can’t point out a single factor which I can single-handedly attribute to my acceptance to Oxford. My life was a product of hard work, but also of luck, like meeting the right people who believed in me at the right time, giving me opportunity at the right time, all of whom were important in the trajectory I had over the years. My fundamental being hasn’t shifted after my acceptance to Oxford. I am still the same person.
Believe that you can rise above the circumstance of your birth
Ten lessons
Below are ten key lessons which I picked up along the way and through them you can understand the principles that sustained me during my journey to Oxford.
1. Master your English
Very early on, I understood that if I want to be successful in my studies, I have to master the English language. But having a good command of the English language wasn’t easy. English is my third language. Arabic was the medium of instruction in my primary school. Somali was the only language spoken at home, in the local media and in the wider society. As I progressed to high school, an afternoon English tuition class greatly helped me. I started to read English grammar books to improve my English. But it was my avid listening to the BBC World Service radio which proved most crucial in improving my English. The BBC radio programs also significantly improved my understanding of the world, my thinking horizon and my perspective on many global issues. The level of one’s English affects the quality of writing and the effectiveness of communication with people, all of which are critical in achieving success. Having good English has a bigger significance than a simple communication in today’s world. Most academic books are written in English, many of the best universities in the world are in English-speaking countries of the Western world, the world’s two biggest financial capitals are in English speaking countries and most international organisations have English as their medium of communication. I am also aware that I come from a British colony and I resent the English colonisation of my homeland, but I am also aware that English is key in navigating the current world order which, I believe, is not going to change anytime soon at least in my lifetime. I think there is nothing wrong with learning your former colonial master’s language and use it to your own advantage. As I passed by the Oxford English Centre one afternoon, it reminded me the Oxford English Dictionary, the world’s most trusted English dictionary. I held the Oxford dictionary in high esteem as it helped me greatly when I was an English language student.
2. Focus, aim for the best and believe that you are meant and destined for greatness
Focus as you plan to the end. But aim for the best and for the highest. According to most studies, great people and historic figures led normal lives before they took a dramatic decision at various times in their lifetime which made them great. Many of them did after the age of forty while others did it considerably later in their lifetime. This means that anybody can achieve greatness anytime in their lifetime. I want to be great for a great cause. But greatness can come in many forms. From a meaningful community service and empowering the girl child to freeing your people from the shackles of poverty and destitution and fighting environmental degradation, the opportunities to be great are endless. A genuine belief that you can be great and that you should do great things must underpin one’s own view in life. This is important because it affects your day-to-day decisions and priorities in life. Believing you are destined for greatness affects the way you conduct yourself and prevents you from bad behaviour such as political corruption.
