Forbidden Talk

She stood nervously in front of the crowd of women, her hands trembling, her dazzling smile hiding her fears. Placing her glossy white shoe in front of the other, she slowly walked down three steps leading towards the hotel’s landing, where her groom, her love, was waiting a few steps further down. As the women around her fussed over the veil and the beautiful long wedding gown, Sacdiya caught her reflection in a full length mirror. A vision in white, she looked like an angel, an angel about to be born again with her soul mate by her side. Bismliaahi yaa u dhowaan kara inanata.

She smiled at the women who cheered and clapped to the beatings of the drums already beginning outside. Her pearly white teeth could testify the fear Sacdiya was experiencing, if only they could speak. But they stared on in silence, feeling Sacdiya’s heart rate increase as she walked out of the room and down the hall, where from above she could see a crowd of men standing, talking, smiling, checking their watches, talking on their mobile phones. Her eyes scanned the room below her, looking for her husband, the man who had taken her heart and immersed it with the water of love, finally quenching its twenty-six year old thirst.

“Waad qurux badan tahay,” she heard a familiar voice. Her father aabaheed took her by the hand and kissed her forehead. “Diyaar ma tahay aabe?” She lowered her eyes, the sign of an obedient daughter, a shy virgin, and nodded with a smile. "Haa aabe macaan" she repied

The drums grew louder; a rhythmic tune began as father and daughter floated, yes she was floating, towards her groom, her shy prince who stood tall and proud, honored that Sacdiya chose him out of all the men in the world. “The universe” he corrected himself, smiling as he remembered Superman had come from another planet. His soft black eyes watched in fascination as she descended the flight of stairs; just like an angel coming down to him from the heavens above, just for him, his special guardian angel, saving him from the possibilty of an enternal damnation of loneliness. He felt an overwhelming sense of joy, pride, love. Warsame had never experienced these feelings before and it was just as well- he had saved them for Sacdiya, the one true love he had found a year ago in the city’s library.

As he stood, his hands in his pockets, he recalled the day he met his bride. The commotion he had heard at the information desk from a girl that looked around twenty-six, insisting that she had reserved a book before anyone else had. “I’m sorry ma’am but I’m afraid it is reserved to a Mr. Warsame Abdul Rahman,” the old lady with large spectacles too big for her face answered shortly before returning to her desk.

“But you don’t understand!” the young girl continued, stamping her foot in protest, “I need this book for my bachelor research, I’m going to fail without it!” From among the many “Shhhhs” coming from people around her, Warsame stepped in, feeling a magnet force pulling him. “Ma ku caawin karaa walaale,” he offered, about to continue. Before he could Sacdiya cut him off, “Waryaa dhageyso anaa kaa soo horeyey ee dib u dhaqaaq.” She was in Kenya after all and had had enough of the lack of respect people had for those in line first.

Warsame wasn’t hurt by Sucaado’s abruptness. Looking at the librarian he continued, “I’m Kamal Abdul Rahman, I would be happy to offer the book to this miss…” He noticed Sucaado’s face suddenly change color. She was blushing, he realised, her cheeks the color of a beautiful pink rose. “It’s Sucado, Sucaado Xaaji. Thank you so much…but…I mean, ma hubtaa aboowe? You don’t need it? I can borrow it for a few hours today and photocopy some pages…” She trailed off, looking at him intently. Warsame shook his head, learning that behind Sucaado’s tough exterior, she had a soft, delicate, sweet interior, like a coconut. And Warsame was thirsty and wanted a taste of this beautiful, exotic coconut. “Mico ma leh abaayo,” he simply said. She blushed again and they laughed over the commotion she had caused. She apologised to the librarian for the fuss and thanked Kamal with her beautiful, bright smile. For him, he had found home, a home he had never known, until now. waryaa khatar dheh waa kugu dhcdey sow mahan

The beatings of the drums, iyo buraanburkii brought Warsame attention back to the wedding reception where he waited for his bride quruxleydii. The beatings of the drums reflected the rapid beating of Sucaado’s heart as she neared him. She felt dizzy, delirious with joy but frightened to death. This was the beginning of a new life for her. A life she had never known. All she had ever known was her parents house, her life there. As her father put her hands in Warsame’s, she trembled, feeling cold and hot sweats all over her body, a tremor of joy and anxiety simultaneously hit her. walaahi wey dhuuman rabtey

She had never experienced so many feelings at once before, she was sure she was going crazy. She hadn’t prepared for this day, not mentally. All everyone talked about was how gorgeous she had to look for her groom. How smooth her skin had to be after waxing, how sweet she had to smell after her scented bath. But there were other things she wanted to know, but didn’t dare ask. In her culture it would be considered vulgar, indecent of her to ask what exactly happened on the wedding night, what was expected of her. Would she bleed, and if she did, how much? Would it hurt? Would she have to change the sheets immediately afterwards? Did she have to consummate the wedding that very night? She was exhausted, hardly having a moment’s sleep all week. Couldn’t she ask her husband if they could maybe relax in each other’s arms that night and not have to do anything until they were both comfortable? Couldn’t they take it in stages or did they have to dive into the deep end as soon as they were alone? miskiin dheh is qabooji abaayo kagu cuni maayee ee waad raaxeysanee

Warsame sighed as she sat down on her wedding chair, her groom next to her, holding her hand, gently caressing it. What if he wanted me tonight? She wondered. Now that he was her husband, it should be her duty to please him, right?xishood daaqada ka tuur. She frowned, only slightly, so the cameras wouldn’t catch her in her deep thoughts. She had wanted to talk to her mother about these questions, her aunts, her older sisters, but it was forbidden talk. It was something a bride had to go through blindfolded, without knowing any details, without knowing what to expect. Sex education was frowned upon, the less a girl knew the better. adeuy ku jirtaa inanayhey ee is xariifi

Suddenly Sucaado was on the verge of crying. She was scared. She had never been alone with a man before.Alle waa ayo ninkaan, aaaaa. She was proud of her virginity, gabarnimadeed- and in some sort of stubborn way, she didn’t want to give it up. She liked being a virgin. She didn’t want to go through the pain and anxiety of breaking it. Then another thought struck her. What if she didn’t like sex? What if she detested it? It sounded messy; she had read about it in books and seen glimpses in the movies. What if she wasn’t in the mood and he suddenly demanded it from her. What if… ma boodaa ma cararaa alle xagee aadaa xabis aan galee.

Sucaado looked at her husband and smiled a soft smile. She loved him, she really did. But she wasn’t sure if she was ready for such a big leap. From virgin to non-virgin in a matter of hours, it freaked her out. She had been a virgin for twenty-seven years, she had never had a relationship with a boy, she didn’t know what it was like to be touched or kissed. She had no experience. What if she didn’t satisfy her husband? She thought, scratching her wedding ring slightly. What if he didn’t satisfy me? maxaan sameeyaa aloow ii gargaar

The beatings of the drums interrupted her thoughts and she put an enormous amount of effort to push them away. She wanted to enjoy this night, it was her wedding day for God’s sake. Enough nonsense girl, women have married over the centuries and they’ve all survived. You’re just going to have to find a way to do the same.

And just then Warsame looked at her with his deep brown eyes and smiled reassuringly, squeezing her hand at the same time; she knew he was feeling the same.

She knew they were both on the same boat.

She knew they would be alright.

She just knew.

Hope for a Miracle

I know many Somali people dislike teen movies or chick flicks, but I’m a softy when it comes to both. I just finished watching A Walk to Remember with Mandy Moore. My eyes are still wet with tears, (I did say I’m a softy). waagaan ciyaalka ahaa ayaa wanaagsanaa inaan daawado Filimkan macaan yaakhey. waan gaboobey hadde ileene. Waagaan ciyaalka ahaa bugle ayaan ciyaari jirey.

I just love the idea that miracles can still happen, that people can find true love with no hidden agendas attached. A good Christian girl who keeps to herself and does good deeds, Mandy Moore is the last person Langdon would even look at; he’s a popular guy, a rude boy, part of a gang that makes him get into trouble, from the peer pressure. waan arkey taas

Just like the Qur’an Kariim says, "you may hate something that is actually good for you". Langdon gets punished by the school, so he has to do some community work. He gets close to Mandy and realises she’s not a freak like everyone seems to think. I don’t want to spoil it for you, so I won’t go any further (for those who haven’t watched it). Soo daawda dee

This film gives me hope. The songs in the film gives me hope. That people can still find true love. It’s a big world, right? But I’m often left wondering, are there any Somali Muslim men who would genuinely love a woman with all his heart and soul? Would he sacrifice his life for her? Would he live to just make her happy, to love her, support her, fulfil her. walee weli maanan arag kuwa ciaayaraya oo gabdhaheenii habaabiyey mooyeeeee

Islam promotes that sort of love, we see it in the Prophet’s life (scw) with Khadeejah and Aisha. (alle dhamaan ha ka raali noqdee) But does it happen in present day life?

As much as Somali men want someone to love them, I wonder, are they ready to love back as much or even more? Is this love only found in Western men? Can Somali women find someone who will devote their lives to them, who will be hopelessly devoted to them? When the going gets tough, if, say, the woman can’t have a child, will he leave her, marry someone else, or will he tell her, I don’t want a child with anyone else but you, otherwise it’s meaningless.

Will he wake up everyday and thank God that she chose him as a life partner? Will he love her for the sake of God, the truest, purest form of love that will last forever? Will he treat her like an equal, his equal and not dominate her? Do miracles like that still happen in this world where its so easy to treat each other badly, abuse each other, cheat, lie, deceive, even kill.

Do they make them (men) like that anymore? Or do we all need a reality check and face up to the real world, the cold, harsh world where true, pure love is just a mirage. Ma garanayo walee waxa ku dhacey raganee iy sida ay wax u walaaqayaan. waxaan umaleyn anaga oo idil weunu waalaney sidii dagaalkii jahliga oo dhacey oo dhmaanteen waa inaan adnaa isbitaalkii caanka ahaa ee Lasareeti ee dadka waalnaa laga buuxin jirey.

Still Waiting My Soulmate

I was four when I realised I needed you. Whenever I witnessed two hands holding passionately I would literally cry. I had a loving family, but it wasn’t enough for me. I needed you. My soul mate. The other half that will complete me. I knew you would be special. Someone who would fill the void inside me. No one could fill it but you.xageed aadeey nan yahey

And as the years went by I remember wishing to meet you, bump into you and hab kusiiyo. I wished that I could just take a peek at the unseen and find out what you were doing at that specific moment. If you were thinking of your soul mate; me. I have spent many lonely days and nights without you, growing on my own, exploring the world through eyes that wish to see you. I remember days when I would cry because I missed you, even though I have never met you. But I believe we have met, before we came to earth; this is how strong my feelings are for you. walaahi been ma ahan dee inanyahey

I’ve loved you before I even met you. I know I will love you when I meet you and get to know you. I know I will sacrifice my life for you. I would be happy to take a bullet for you, just so you can live on, because I know I would die without you. Ma garatey dee iananyahey

My soul mate, I don’t know how I have survived all these years without you, but I have, successfully. I know when I do meet you though, I will wonder how I ever did get along without you, your love, your care, your voice, the gentle loving way you will look at me.

All I want is your love. All I want is to feel it, even if we sit across the room from each other. I want to be showered with emotional love. I want to feel that you genuinely can’t live without me, that you adore me, honour me, love me. I want you to be my best friend, someone I can talk to, laugh with, run around the park with and play hide and seek, screaming with laughter. seewaaye waan inaan baashaalnaa dee

I want to have a special connection with you, for us to be much more than husband and wife; friends, family, soul mates, twin souls. It’s that simple for me, to have that special love with you. To feel that I’m one of the most important people in your life. To feel that you can’t breathe without me, like I can’t breathe without you. To be sleeping in the middle of the night and feel you hold me because you love me. To be watching TV or reading a book and to have you cuddle up to me. To be walking in the street and have you hold my hand with love and devotion in your eyes.

This doesn’t just have to happen in the movies…it can happen for us too, if you open your heart and believe in Allah’s power to do anything; believe that you can find me so I can love you. So you can love me. walaahi bee ah dee

Until then I am still four years old, in a boxer surwaal gaban, looking at the others holding hands, laughing together, wishing we could be in that place. I am in no rush. I am in no hurry. I await patiently. I travel the world looking for you. I develop personally and professionally, religiously, so I can be better for you.

You deserve the best, I want to be able to deserve you. I know you will be mine, you were written for me before I was placed on earth. And if it is not our time to meet in this world, I will gladly die without loving anyone else, so we can begin our lives in heaven together, with our pure, true love that will last for all eternity. aamiin ee kuaawey dee

Lightening Strikes Twice

Many, many years ago when I was growing up in a high-school environment I met Farah. A year younger than I, she was a beautiful girl who loved people. We weren’t best friends but we were good friends and on sunny days I can sometimes remember her and I walking on the same road, talking and giggling like two young kids do. But behind that smile, Farah carried burdens that no young girl should carry.

I remember one day while I was studying for an exam she asked me what a woman's worst nightmare was. I immediately replied, “Rape”. She got all quiet, put her head down on the floor and stammered that she had to go somewhere. She did this so naturally that I didn’t notice that something was wrong.

A few months later I learned that Farah’s life was all wrong.

She had lived in another country (Ethiopia) when she was only two years old. She was a happy child and loved playing with flowers. When her parents were not looking Farah was kidnapped from the garden of Paradise and taken to Hell. She doesn’t remember all the details but because of the extent of the trauma she remembers being in a room with a man and him doing something to her that she didn’t understand because she was only two. Waxey moodeysye iney ciyaarayaan

But years later she knew what he had done to her. He had raped her.nacal ha ku dhacdo ninkaas walaahi in qoorta laga jaro waaye

After he was done he dumped her on the streets for someone to find her. They took her to the police and reported that she was a lost child. Her parents found her and took her home. They knew what had happened to her but they never talked about it. It was forbidden. They never explained to her why it had happened. The man never got caught. Amxaar yaa taaban kara

She grew up forgetting about what had happened to her. When memories are so bad, the brain represses it into the subconscious. She resumed her life as a happy girl although she grew up to understand that because her mother was a non-Muslim, her elder brothers had also chosen the path to not be Muslims.

And the extent of this was shown one night when Farah was 16 years old. Her elder brother came in to her room and raped her. Was he drunk? I don’t know, I never could ask. Tears flowed while she recalled that night to me and all I could do was listen and then hug her and tell her everything was going to be okay. Years after the police were involved but no one was charged. Her parents probably did not believe her. They wanted to silence her. The brother never touched her again.

They say lightening doesn’t hit the same place twice. For Farah it did. But despite the horrendous things she went through, details I cannot list for fear someone would recognise the story, she held onto her faith like a leech would to someone’s skin.

She ran to God although many other people would run away from God if they had been through what Farah went through. She believed everything happened for a reason and she accepted that it happened to her to make her stronger, to make her more religious.

I remember years ago her brother got married and moved out. I breathed a sign of relief for her. I remember meeting him before she told me about what he did. He seemed like a charming young man. But then again, rapists pretend they are.

Why on earth do we hear about honour killings towards women and no honour killings towards these men who rape their victims? Why do the women get punished while the men roam free to commit their crimes. It’s all a wonder to me.

I don’t know what has happened to Farah. It has been many years since I last saw her. Wherever she is, I pray that she is well and has found a husband that will treat her so right and heal her wounds and let her forget about the days where she was almost destroyed.

Don't Judge A Book By Its Cover

In Somalia young men are searching for the ideal ‘good wife’. It’s not based on who you are exactly, what makes you who you are; it’s based on your faith. And how do you tell if a woman is religious or not? For these young men the critieria is that they are wearing the hijab. If it’s the niqab, then it’s even better! Then they can go showing off to their relatives that they have picked such a good catch, all just because she’s wearing the hijab.

I remember my 18 year old cousin was happy to announce that he wants to get engaged. All he told us about the girl is that she is wearing the hijab qurux badan. I mean, what more do we want? That’s enough! That just proves she’s an excellent girl, a perfect muslimah.yaab dheh.

On the other side of the coin there are sisters who are looking for the ideal husband. These sisters choose the guy on the basis of their looks; do they look Islamic- are they wearing a beard? Do they talk a lot about Islam? Do they preach? masajidka ma aadaan Even better!

It’s when they get married to each other that they realise it was all wrong. Appearance doesn’t mean a thing ladies and gentlemen. What’s inside is what really counts, the outside is a bonus if what’s inside reflects what is on the outside. The divorce rate is increasing because of this issue. It’s devastating lives.

I remember a sister was very attracted to a young man because all he spoke about was dawah and religion. She married him and he ended up being a terrorist suspect and jailed for several years. He left her with nothing because he was poor. The flat they lived in had no electricity, imagine? He believed being poor was Islamic. His twisted version of Islam made him think that it was good to live in a hut dhooqo ah, it was good to not have a stable job, it was good to use others for his own benefit and take advantage of them, it was good to hurt others as long as he justified his reasons. It was good to struggle. I have no idea what happened to this sister, but I do pray for her, aamiin.

I remember hearing a story of a guy in Nairobi, Kenya who wanted to get married to a very beautiful girl who wore the hijab. Her wearing the hijab was enough for him to determine that she was a religious girl. He didn’t bother to get to know her through the engagement period because he was so confident that she was the right girl for him. He later found out that she was in love with another guy and seeing him behind his back. He broke off the engagement and vowed to get to know the person he would marry- in an Islamic setting of course.sax waryaa dee.

But too many of our sisters and brothers are falling into the same trap. I hear of brothers saying they are looking for a ‘hijabi girl to marry’. Or sisters saying they are looking for ‘bearded brothers oo gar dheer leh to marry’. A few months ago I came across a blog of a brother who writes a lot about Islam. A sister who was new to the blog wrote a comment saying ‘You sound like a very good husband’. How did she know that? Just based on the fact that he wrote about Islam a lot? This is just an example and in no way is it judging these people. But divorces are increasing because of this reason- that people just look at the exterior and later find out the interior is a devil in disguise. aah ilaahoow iga celi kuwaas aamiin

So sisters, brothers, daughters, sons, don’t judge a person ENTIRELY by its cover. It’s doomed many. Hubsiimo hal baa la siistaa ee is jira walaalayaal. Somali ceelna uma qodna cidna uma maqana marka waa inaan iska ilaalinaa inaan godka cidlada ah aan ku dhacno