Well, there's the moving van!

Hi guys, I'm moving to a wordpress blog, you can find me at www.acamelherdersdaughter.wordpress.com

peace and bariis!

Acacia Trees

I think I'm in love.

I think I'm in love with acacia trees.

I miss Africa.

Memoirs of the Civil War: My Uncle

There are many things that happened to my family, relatives or friends of the family during the civil war and the flight away. Some are funny, some are sad and some are gruesome, but they are all true. Despite everything that happened, I can’t seem to remember anything, I was after all still in diapers. Yet, I do recall my uncle, a victim of the war. He’s pretty much my worst memory, ever.

My uncle was a doctor; in fact he had just received his doctor license when the shooting began in Mogadishu. Being unaware of this, he went to a café by himself to drink something in celebration and was later planning to take the whole family out for dinner. Something happened in that café. No one knows for sure what happened, and all we know are bits of what he told the family while babbling. It may sound weird, but my uncle was a sane man when he entered that café, yet when he left it, he was insane.

No one got the chance to investigate whatever happened, the war broke out and we were forced to flee. The family took him to Syria for medical treatment and some place to live of course. The Syrians were great, they helped out and the doctors did everything they could do, but with no success. My mother wanted to bring him up north, but the government told her that there were no legal grounds for doing such thing. Hence, we spent every summer travelling down and visiting him and my grandmother who lived in Syria together, along with some other relatives.

Here is where my memories come in. I can remember him quite well, he was a tall man. For a child, I was four at the time, every grown up is huge. Nonetheless, I recall him being taller than my mother and my mother was quite tall. I also remember that he was really skinny. I don’t recall ever seeing him eat a full meal. My grandmother and mother used to feed him, but they gave him porridge and soft meals, even then he couldn’t eat much or else he’d vomit. He had difficulties with swallowing I think. He had greyish skin was growing grey hair, although he was in his late twenties.

I mentioned that my uncle became mentally unstable. He would babble in some weird language for hours and then suddenly pass out. Sometimes, he used to go out and get lost, my mother and brother would spend hours or maybe days searching for him. He used to prefer sleeping in the courtyard. In Arab nations, traditional houses often have courtyards. They’re apart of the house, but at the same time it’s outside.

There is one incident with him that I remember quite vividly. One day I woke up before everybody else and for some reason ended up playing in the courtyard. My uncle saw me and called for me. He had a whispering voice and it used to break. I actually used to be afraid of him. Well, he called for me and I approached him. He held my hand and smiled at me. The first time I ever saw him smile. The scary thing was that his eyes weren’t smiling. I’ve heard people jokingly saying that some guy has dead eyes, but my uncle really did have dead eyes. There was not even a spark of life in them. They were dark and hollow. I remember that summer really well. It was the summer I was four, my brother bought me a beautiful summer dress, my favourite thing in the world were my pink sun-glasses and my uncle smiled to me with his dead eyes.

Three months later he died.

A petition for unity in Somalia

Take time to read it, if you support the message, don't hesitate with signing. May Allah bring peace to the whole world and may the Horn finally get some stability!

http://www.thepetitionsite.com/takeaction/544365865

Not wanting to go out, when you're supposed to go out even though no one is forcing you to go out, but you feel that if

...you don't go out, you're not fulfilling these expectations and all though the consequences won't effect you physically nor change your life drastically you realise that by not going out you'll hurt the feelings of those who asked you to go out and those who you're supposed to meet, yet nothing is planned, an impulse, moment of blackout when you told all these people around you that - yes, I will go out on saturday afternoon to see you - a binding agreement one could say.

the words were uttered, they escaped from the tip of my tounge to the ears of my beloved ones.

...so now, although I really don't want to go out because it's snowing and cold, I have to go out, because there was an agreement, there was a deal if broken wont lead to dramatic consequences, but it will with no doubt hurt your conciousness.

Amazing sister

On snow and creativity

snow
white snow
polluted snow
yellow snow
snow

Snow zucks.

Two of my friends are planning to create a hiphop duo, they turned to me for ideas on a potential name. They thought that I were creative. I'm not creative. I'm dull. Do you guys have any ideas?

- I suggested "Gangs of Oslo" and "Boyz II Mathematicians".