Flashes of Life

Physician for Human Rights

2012-02-02T12:37:00.001-06:00

I recently became a member of this organization and have been appointed as committee head for the International Section. I don't have much time this semester to be working on a huge project so I am inshallah planning to highlight 'how political freedom is curtailed around the world'. I picked Iran and Ogaden region of Ethiopia to be my focal points.

I will be screening two documentaries followed by a post discussion; ' The Green Wave' and 'Silent Cry'. I am not completely conversational with Ogaden's genocide and political wrangling unfortunately and therefore find myself in search for credible sources to use. So far I have made some headway but I need to contact a human rights or media spokesman/woman who will give a fair and objective summary about the situation. I have been warned that the Ethiopian government seeks to muffle anyone who is vocal about whats going on the ground in Ogaden but I didn't think it would be so hard to find someone in the West who will be helpful/interviewable.

So, on the off chance that you, my reader, happen to read this post and know someone who can help me, I would be so so so so so indebted to you. I am at my wits end especially since I actually want to kick off my semester with the Ogaden documentary screening and my planned date is drawing oh so near :( If you can help drop me a line in the comments and I'll definitely follow up.

Till then I am off to expand my mind!!

A gasp of air

2012-02-01T00:33:00.000-06:00

'ello Folks,
Can't believe its been this long since I blogged. I guess the novelty wore off or my schedule became unbearable. I am going to go for the latter reasoning :) I am back to where I begun my journey years ago when I started this blog. I am back at the helm of my self discovery journey. Some things have changed but others remain the same. I am hoping this time I will do it differently. Stay tuned :)

Ps:- I missed writing

SD

RIP Gregory Isaacs (1951-2010)

2010-10-25T11:50:00.000-05:00

Night Nurse

Tell her try your best jest to make it quick
Whom attend to the sick
'Cause there must be something she can do
This heart is broken in two
Tell her it's a case of emergency
There's a patient by the name of Gregory

Night nurse
Only you alone can quench this Jah thirst
My night nurse, oh gosh
Oh the pain it's getting worse

I don't wanna see no doc
I need attendence from my nurse around the clock
'Cause there's no prescription for me
She's the one, the only remedy

Night nurse
Only you alone can quench this Jah thirst
My night nurse
Oh the pain it's getting worse
I hurt my love

I don't wanna see no doc
I need attendence from my nurse around the clock
'Cause there's no prescription for me
She's the one, the only remedy

Night nurse
Only you alone can quench this Jah thirst
My night nurse
Oh the pain it's getting worse
I hurt my love

And I'm sure
No doctor can cure
Night nurse
Night nurse

Video of Night Nurse

:( Another great artist dies. The music world will miss you greatly. I will miss you greatly but I will console myself knowing that I can still hear your voice via my ipod.

MIA

2010-09-29T23:21:00.003-05:00

Hello Folks!

So I have been MIA for a while but I swear its not for naught. I have been busy lining up my ducks in a row and possibly doing a life upheaval too. Its been an unenlightening Ramadhan. I usually find some peace during the fasting period but this year I suffered a spiritual disconnect even though I did more Ibadha than last year. Inshallah my fast and yours are accepted.

I am also in the midst of taking an online course and its daunting at times but for the most part, I have fun logging in at 3 am and writing on the boards. My experiments are at times last minute but I have to say I couldn't do it without my sister. We have come to regard my homework time as bonding time and we giggle about the questions and my ability to naturally think of the answers without engaging my mathematical brain. Who would have known huh?

My book reading has been really taking off. I am now a member of three book clubs plus my own reading list. I have taken to notating my thoughts of the books on a notepad. Some books have made me question myself and others have lead to questioning society at large. At the moment I am juggling Reading Lolita in Tehran and Sepharad. Both of the books complement each other, in that one speaks of families and lives shattered by Hitler's zeal, while the other speaks of Iranian revolution seen via works of fiction.

I have literary turned into a signed book collector. I have so far collected four signatures of authors and Inshallah by end of October I should have three more signed books under my belt; Nuruddin Farah, Uwen Akpan and Azar Nafisi. Since I am uprooting myself in the coming weeks, I am feeling nostalgic about MN and have taken to doing Minnesotan activities. I have gone to the state fair, attended a Vikings game, gone to a jazz festival and hope to squeeze a few more things before I say my adieu.

Finally, I am planning to visit Turkey in spring. I am looking forward to those two weeks. It will be a year since I have gone traveling by the time I embark on the journey. I will be making the trip with my trusted friend B. We have already had a breakfast meeting to set an itinerary of activities which, she will ensure I keep to. I dare say we will have a few more meetings before I move because she will be solely in charge and will only meet me at the airport when we leave. My arms break out in goosebumps when I think of all the historical places I will be stepping into. I have always dreamed of being inside the Blue mosque and can't wait to tick that box off my travel list.

So what have you been up to??

Things I cherish about Ramadhan

2010-08-28T23:50:00.001-05:00

Each Ramadhan presents a chance for any muslim to better their iman. The other day my friend, Julia, asked me what it is that makes me nostalgic for Ramadhan and I listed a bunch of things. I like the fact that the family as unit eat iftar together and pray together. I like the fact that in Kenya we sent an assortment plate of food to all our neighbours and it came back laden with their dishes. I like the fact that everyone is respectful, contemplative and mindful of their actions. In Mombasa the streets would be packed with people selling iftar that even when iftar finds you enroute to your home you can find dates and coffee a step away, but most of all its the Quran hafiz competitions that makes my heart yearn for my childhood home.

The competition, these days is more organized and is held in Makadara with contestants coming from all over the world. The prize this year is a trip to Hajj. I wish the best to all the contestants and Mashallah may Allah reward their knowledge and skill. Below is a clip of the ongoing competition which will conclude tomorrow. Enjoy.

PS:- I have been meaning to post about a Surah this Ramadhan and I already picked it and researched it but I haven't been able to sit down and write about it. Inshallah I hope to have it up for Laylatul Qadr. Remember that these last ten days Allah SWT forgives his believers. May all our sins be forgiven Inshallah. Ameen.

Creating the divide between Americans and American Muslims

2010-08-22T13:38:00.005-05:00

Watching the news media in the past few weeks I have felt exceedingly alienated with each day. I didn't realize what effect all this negative propaganda had on me till I was sitting at work and a news item about the Cordoba center came on. I suddenly found myself feeling self conscious and I looked around at the people sitting at the tables. I tried to catch their eyes and read their thoughts. To see if they regarded me as an 'other' and all I was met with were eyes that looked passive. I steeled my heart because I realized that all over America people might be watching the same channel, and perhaps their eyes were as passive as the ones around me.

On 9/11, I was on campus drinking my coffee and catching up on notes when I saw the first images of the towers going down. It was shocking and I remember saying a quick prayer to God for mercy on all the souls that were going to be touched by this tragedy. The next day I got text messages about not coming to school because of fear. I remember my mother asking me to stay home but I was so sure of this country, my country. Apart from some odd stares here and there I didn't feel any fear at all. So tell me why the other day as I was driving with my window down and listening to Quran I felt fear creep into my heart when I stopped at a red light. I noticed an eerie silence and I chanced a look to my left. A man was staring intently at me. I smiled at him and he didn't return the smile and kept staring daggers at me. I looked back to the road and tried to shake the creepy feeling off me.

My tale is not singular in essence. The illusion of the 'other' in American history has led to certain minorities being persecuted i.e. Japanese, Jews, Blacks. The foolhardy, short sighted plan of the political candidates as well as cultural leaders is slowly unfurling the very fabric of the pluralistic and tolerant society that is United States. Scapegoating Muslims and Islam for political capital has long lasting effects that feeds off the fear of some Americans. I am as American as the next person. My religion is a personal choice that is protected by the constitution. Do not marginalize the American Muslims, who are contributing members of society, for the sins of the few. Division in society has never led to prosperity and I should know for Somalia has been mired in war for 20+ years due to divisions.

This is not only about the Cordoba Center anymore, this is about standing up for values that are intrinsically American; freedom, democracy, religion, acceptance, diversity, loyalty etc. As a society that shares these common beliefs, I implore you to live out the motto "E Pluribus Unum" {Out of Many One}.

Ramadhan and Muslims

2010-08-19T19:25:00.001-05:00

First off Ramadhan Kareem and Saum Maqbul to my beloved readers.

Today as I was sitting in contemplation during my lunch hour, something on TV caught my attention. It was a story of a muslim woman suing Disney because they wouldn't allow her to work with her hijab on, at least not while she was hosting. According to the report Disney told the woman that she is allowed to dorn her Hijab in the back but when she was interacting with Disney guests she had to remove it. A minute later former Mayor of New York Rudy was on the tube talking about the Cordoba Mosque.

I am not sure how to feel about Islam in the media lately. Personally I can understand the stance Cordoba Institute is taking regarding the planned construction but I feel that perhaps in the interest of peace they should just find another site to build their center. Its apparently is a hot issue for some New Yorkers and now its gaining national momentum. A house of worship shouldn't stir such hateful sentiments and if it does then its better to rethink the decision.

As for muslims in general I feel like we have invited this type of attention and phobia to ourselves by secluding ourselves. The muslim communities/families around where I live stick to their own kind and never branch out into the community or society. In America we enjoy the freedom to practice our religion how we want to but we have isolated ourselves and our communities by being so close knit. Perhaps if we talked to John down the street he might come around to ask why we fast during Ramadhan or why Samira wears a hijab.

We need to intergrate ourselves into our communities like taking part in national night out or the local fair. Thats my humble opinion and I pray each day that USA doesn't become like Europe and strip away some of the freedoms we enjoy. Education is the key here and I hope we all do something to better the situation instead of making it worse.

WC 2010 Final

2010-07-11T11:47:00.005-05:00

The stage has been set. 32 teams came to prove themselves on a pitch and only two survive; Espana and Netherlands. The only question that remains to be answered is who will be left standing.

This has been a historical world cup from the get go. It was the first world cup held in Africa, it was the first world cup where 5 Latin American countries advanced to the 16, it was the first world cup that an African nation had gotten to the Quarter finals and now the contenders for the WC are two teams that haven't ever won the world cup!

What can we expect in T minus two hours? These two teams are different in their approach, tactically as well as mentally. I am looking for Espana to be dominating the midfield and possession. If Pedro gets to start then he will most likely provide Inesta the ability to move from left to right at leisure. Espana has a lot of speed and can overun the midfield if allowed. Holland has to play smart and not allow through balls to Sergio Ramos who looks very strong from his position and is constantly moving up, as was seen in the Semi, when he gave Boateng a run for his money.

Holland have to be extremely disciplined in this game if they want to win. Defensively they have to keep their back line and Robben and Snejder, who have the knack of losing balls, need to be extra vigilant today and stick with patterned play. Any deviation might mean a loss. So far Lady Luck has been on their side with the goal posts helping in goal scoring but they can't depend on this. Holland has to test Puyol, Pique, Busquets by being confident that they can penetrate into Espana's box, after all in the last few years it was the Dutch who molded Barca style of play.

Finally Espana has only had seven goals throughout the tournament. It doesn't say much about how they can get results even with their tactics but in the finals the slates are wiped clean and all the World will remember, is who emerged victorious. As for me, I will be donning my Oranje shirt today and hope that this will indeed be a historical day for the Dutch (winning the WC) and South Africa (a start to heal wounds that have long been there).

Picture courtesy of nydailynews

Sports Heaven

2010-07-03T20:10:00.003-05:00

For the past month or so I have been perpetually transfixed to the TV set in my basement. NBA playoffs followed by World Cup. I have spent hours in other sport fanatics homes as we discussed the in and outs of the games. I have to say this has by far been the most happiest memory of WC I have had. My sisters are grown up enough to join in the craziness and the rivalries have led to goaded phonecalls after each loss but ladies and gents I am here to say I am the only one standing.

I predicted all the quarter finalist that are in WC 2010. I hope that Oranje makes me proud when they finally lift the golden cup come July 11th. Its going to be a furious run to the finish line and I will have to wear my team colors with each game. I know I probably don't make sense but I am running on a few hours of sleep and a lot of adrenaline. I have work tomorrow and a rash of articles of write and edit.

Ps:- I needed a change with my template and I am not sure this fits the bill, so it might change till I find the right fit.

The calculating Ms Hirsi

2010-05-31T12:13:00.005-05:00

I am a staunch believer in freedom of expression. I read INFIDEL not because I ascribe to Ms Hirsi's beliefs but because I was curious what the big hoopla was about her. I found the book to be a narrative of her life and didn't fault her for putting it down. Reading the book, I found myself chuckling at things she wrote that at one time I also questioned. I didn't see much in her book that made me want to harm her. Her narrative mirrored a lot of Somali women's narrative. There was nothing special about her story and she knows it, but what sets her apart from the Weris Diriye's is the fact that Ms. Hirsi is a calculating woman. She, unlike Weris, is knowledgeable and aware of what her opine means in the greater context of the discourse of Islam in the West.

Her new book Nomad is out and hopefully I will get a copy soon, but what prompted my post was a review I saw on huffingtonpost regarding her book. As an afterthought, the writer writes :

I do get the sense once in a while in the second half of Nomad, which discusses her arrival in America, that Ayaan Hirsi Ali is a little starry eyed about the West. Yes, Christianity at its best is about love; and no, it is not an all-encompassing theocratic order. But in its fundamentalist reaches the literalism and dogma of evangelicals generates plenty of intolerance, hypocrisy and familial dysfunction. And let's don't forget about the sex scandals in the Catholic Church.

Also, no doubt, in contrast to her experience of misogyny and polygamy Western men look pretty good. But to suggest they are nearly always upright and faithful to their wives and family is to ignore the reality of so many ugly divorces, forlorn children raised by the media, battered spouses and deadbeat dads. Certainly, the West has its fair share of desperate housewives.

Many Muslim readers will have bigger squabbles. How much does Hirsi Ali's experience, in which faith and clan are fused, tell us about, say, modern Turkey or Iran? Others, like Abolhassan Bani-Sadr, the Shiite theorist and first president of revolutionary Iran, will argue that the concept of "Tawhid" -- that the whole of existence is one -- understands that freedom, not submission and domination, is the path to the divine. Yet, admittedly, he lives in exile outside Paris like Trotsky in Mexico City while "actually existing Islam" is run by the Revolutonary Guard back in Tehran.

Above all, like Hirsi Ali's first account of her defection from Islam, Infidel, the power of this book is that it was written in "good faith" as Nicola Chiaromonte meant it: As a witness to her moment, Hirsi Ali calls it as she sees it. She has arrived at her beliefs not by retreating into orthodoxy out of fear of uncertainty or through the nihilism of indifference, but because experience has led her to them. If she wants to live in this world as a free women, here she must stand.

Ms Hirsi is a smart woman who has calculated that her experiences give her a unique perspective that is much needed fodder for the anti Islamic sentiments out there. Unfortunately those of us who speak up against her, without understanding where she is coming from, help her in painting her portrait more succinctly. We would do well to educate ourselves on the issues she raises and counteracting them instead of wildly throwing abuse at her.

Dear LOST, I am a believer!

2010-05-24T01:25:00.003-05:00

Today, as I dropped my sister off I saw this banner hanging off a balcony and I just had to snap this photo. I have been an avid LOSTIE for six seasons. I have introduced the show to people who have joined the cult and tonite I watched the culmination of six years of believing in two brilliant producers.

For the audience that hasn't watched LOST or caught an episode and was confused by the storyline, may I encourage you to set aside the whole summer to watch this TV series. The mind boggles at how religion/spirituality plays such a central role in this series. For a society that is steadily moving to secularism coupled with a decline in institutionalized religion, LOST has been able to capture the attention of millions of Americans.

The island is symbolic. Jack was being tested. He had to accept that he had died and find the people whom his life touched in order to move on. Move on to where exactly? That is unknown. That is left for interpretation. For the believers of Heaven/Hell, Jack would seem to have moved on to Heaven. For the believers of another life after death, Jack could have very well moved on to another life. For an atheist, I guess Jack just screws it all up for there is nothing after death!

Thank you Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse for a wonderful show that thrilled me every single week with questions that you have not yet completely answered. It was a blast and I shall miss you!

Spring Cleaning

2010-05-11T17:54:00.003-05:00

Sometimes life hands you reasons to do things. Due to recent events I have discovered what real friends I have. I absolutely can count on them to be there no matter what. To lend me a hand and a shoulder, no questions asked. Even despite any misunderstanding I might have had with them.

Most people view friendships as transient relationships, ones that form and break daily. I view friendships as life long. I weave and nurture these relationships to the point that I can almost understand the person without a verbal affirmation.

But once in a while I realize that I have invested heavily in something only to have no return on the investment. So to the investments I have recently dumped from my portfolio:

After viewing the quarterly/yearly reports I have found that I have been backing a failed enterprise. One that is draining my funds. So, before my portfolio goes belly up I am going to reinvest in my fail safe accounts. The ones that have shown continual returns even though once in a while their quarterly reports give me a heart attack. Its been fun and a pleasant learning experience all around. I hope the market favors you in the coming years :)

Yours sincerely,

SleepDepraved

The bond we forged

2010-05-05T00:09:00.003-05:00

I was looking for a few papers for my mother the other day that required me to go digging into the family archive. As I sifted through boxes I came across memories of bygone days. Memories of moments treasured forever in my heart.

When I was young I used to hear the adage that girls marry men like their fathers. I used to want to marry a man like my father. A gentle man who encouraged me and nurtured me. A man who taught me to stand for what I believe in no matter what. A man who sat me on his lap each afternoon to work on crosswords puzzles, who on a trip together struggled with a comb and hair band to make me look decent (which I didn't) and one who always stood up for me.

There are many things I regret in my life. My decision to isolate myself from my father might be a costly one that I will probably regret for a long time coming. Somethings once said cannot be taken back and somethings once done can never be undone. We live with these decisions and their consequences day in and day out but one thing is for sure, no one can love me like my father and no one can ever take his place in my heart. I hope, inshallah, to one day find a way to bridge the rift that has opened up between us and till then I find comfort in this song.

Your Joy by Chrisette Michele

Walked down the sidewalk
Starin' at your feet
Wishin' my steps were longer
So by your sides I could keep

Hold your hand much bigger
Never wanted mine to grow
So I could always feel perfect
Inside your palms just so

No one loves me just like you do
No one knows me just like you do
No one can compare
To the way my eyes fit in yours

You'll always be my father
And I'll always be your joy

Laid me on your belly
Nights when mama wasn't home
Lightning had made me shiver
And you never let me feel alone

I tried to match your breathing
Beating my little heart against yours
Perfect were the nights, we were sleepin'
I never wanna end what we are

'Cause no one loves me just like you do
And no one knows me just like you do
No one can compare
To the way my eyes fit in yours

You'll always be my father
And I'll always be your joy

One day he'll come on bended knee
And ask my love away from thee
And when I give my love to him
He'll always have a place within

One day he'll come on bended knee
And ask my love away from thee
And when I give my love to him
He'll always have a place within

No one loves me just like you do
No one knows me just like you do
No one can compare
To the way my eyes fit in yours

You'll always be my father
And I'll always be your joy

ProcrastiNATION

2010-05-03T14:36:00.004-05:00

I have been working on a personal project for one year. It is really shameful if I factor in all the hours/minutes and energy I have put in on other people's project. Each time I sit down to finish my project, mind you it only needs tweaking and some updating, I feel lethargic and down right lazy.

I am beginning to wonder if I have a subconscious issue with this project. I have been sitting in front of my laptop for the past two hours and I have just barely made a dent. I have a pile of notes sitting by me that I have diligently compiled over the months. I know the material like the back of my hand but when it comes down to putting it in action I am stumped.

Today, Inshallah, I intend to finish this project come hell or high water. I am going to lose out on a great many opportunities due to this negligence. Ugh, pray for me :( My mind is devious in coming up with excuses.

Are you sleeping, are you sleeping sister SD?

2010-05-02T10:01:00.004-05:00

As the days have gotten longer my sleep has gotten shorter and so I resorted to taking some Ambien every couple weeks if I have a stretch of three hours or less of sleep each night. On one of those night I took 1/2 tab of Ambien, I curled up to sleep and as usual slipped my cell phone under my pillow. I woke up refreshed in the morning and went to work. It was a half day at work and I was going to enjoy the glorious afternoon by pampering myself with a hair dressers appointment.

I left work at midday and as I was walking out I checked my missed call and messages. I noticed that I picked up a call a little bit after midnight. I didn't remember talking to anyone so I texted messaged the caller to verify this fact. The text came back yes I talked to you last night but you sounded out of it. WT fudgecakes! I scrolled down to my text messages and I also had sent a couple text messages out while I was asleep. I freaked out and wondered what else I did while being medicated but thank God there wasn't anything else.

I promised myself I won't take those pills unless it is absolutely necessary. I can do certain things to help me get to sleep. Listening to Quran does it for me, working out and then taking a hot shower right before bed, drinking some warm cocoa and reading. I can also take away the distractions from my bed like my computer and phone. I don't believe in TV watching so I don't have one in my bedroom thank God. Hopefully all these measures will lead me to a sleep induced state that doesn't require a chemical cocktail in my body.

I wonder what other things people can do to fall asleep?

Duck anyone?

2010-04-29T20:12:00.001-05:00

Maya Angelou

2010-04-09T10:40:00.002-05:00

There are very few writers I love as much as I love this woman. Her words touch millions of people worldwide. Who among us hasn't picked up one of her works? The most famous of which is I know why the caged bird sings. Inshallah this May I will get a chance to hear her speak and hopefully meet her. She will be at the O'Shaughnessy theater- St Catherine University (St Paul). Its an evening of poetry and I already got tickets for my friend and also my beloved aunt. I can't wait to hear her live recite some of my favorite poems

Still I Rise- Maya Angelou

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

Gospel Music?

2010-03-23T23:38:00.003-05:00

I was watching this video on youtube the other day and I couldn't for the life of me figure out what denomination these guys were. Their message was pretty generic, hell I could even sing the song without feeling like I was in church. I think what probably throws me off the most is that they are wearing toubs/kanzus with gunias (potato sacks) over them. Thats really strange. I know I have seen this denomination before in Kenya and I know they have an official name, its just I can't remember!

So if anyone knows drop me a line please :-) Much obliged.

International Women Day

2010-03-09T20:40:00.004-06:00

Ok I know it was yesterday but I wanted to discuss a report that came out today that has to do with marking this day. This report is the Global Gender Gap report and is released annually by the World Economic Forum (WEF). This report measures the gap between men and women in terms of education, health, political representation and economic activity. Iceland topped the list followed by Finland, Norway, Sweden then New Zealand. Canada came in at #25 and US at #31. What surprised me was South Africa being ranked #6. This is not because South Africa is not particularly egalitarian but rather that women in South Africa cannot be termed as equal, certainly not in economic activity and one of the reason why South Africa inched up in ranking is because of the influx of women appointed by the new government.

So my question remains, are women really gaining any foothold when it comes to equality in society? Yes, there are more women in school than before, certainly there are more women in the workplace but the sad fact remains that majority of women do not command the same pay as men do. We have acquiesced on maternity leave and childcare services for the long hours of work with shoddy pay. Scandinavian countries seems to have the right recipe for women with paid parental leave and childcare system in place to support women especially single mothers. How about adhering to quotas of women representation in politics like Rwanda does? US for all its wealth and power has a long way to go in terms of a egalitarian society.

2010-02-28T22:55:00.004-06:00

The surface looks smooth but underneath there is a swirling mass bubbling. Once in a while a bubble will break the surface and if you are not careful the stream of steam it lets off will scald you. It is a rare occurrence and one that is both fascinating and scary at the same time. This unknown mass. This unfathomable, unmeasurable, putrid mess exist beneath a calm and unbroken surface unbeknowest to anyone. :)

Different day, same old story

2010-01-31T22:01:00.003-06:00

I missed writing in my blog but recently I have taken to utilizing the more personable journal by my bedside. It holds my thoughts bound tight within its pages but today, today I will let my blog be privy to these thoughts. Have you ever been caught in a moment in your life that makes you go "Hmm, boy does this look familiar!" No. I am not talking of deja vu but rather repeated patterns that emerge throughout the course of your life.

These moments are precious and should be regarded with reverence. Why, you may ask? Its simple. It is the ability of your consciousness to identify the pattern and bring it to your attention that makes this moment precious. Many of us go through life not examining it but rather going through the motions like farm animals in a barnyard. We don't strive to use the highly developed brain we have been blessed with, to think and analyze our daily occurrences. Therefore when a moment comes that strikes you as familiar, STOP!

This is where men are separated from boys or to be a feminist women are separated from girls. I have found myself in said situation and I didn't stop. I didn't analyze. I didn't blink. I waltzed passed that reverent moment without so much as a nod of acknowledgment. What I should have done was recognize the moment and the repeated pattern. Then I should have gone digging in my memory banks and examined what I did in past when I was presented with the same pattern. If I did examine the past, then I would have found that I have repeatedly done the same thing over and over again expecting different results.

Einstein once said that the definition of madness is doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result. These precious moments of reverence are opportunities. Opportunities of correcting a repeated mistake. Opportunities of ending a cycle and unfurling your path to new possibilities. Dare we dream? If we did we would grab these opportunities with both hands and change our fates. For once we would masters of our own destinies, but alas a minuscule amount of us see these precious moments for what they really are. Sadly I am not among the minuscule either.

Valentine by John Fuller

2009-12-25T21:57:00.005-06:00

The things about you I appreciate may seem indelicate:
I’d like to find you in the shower
And chase the soap for half an hour.
I’d like to have you in my power and see your eyes dilate.
I’d like to have your back to scour
And other parts to lubricate.
Sometimes I feel it is my fate
To chase you screaming up a tower
or make you cower
By asking you to differentiate Nietzsche from Schopenhauer.
I’d like to successfully guess your weight and win you at a féte.
I’d like to offer you a flower.

I like the hair upon your shoulders,
Falling like water over boulders.
I like the shoulders, too: they are essential.
Your collar-bones have great potential
(I’d like to see your particulars in folders marked Confidential).

I like your cheeks, I like your nose,
I like the way your lips disclose
The neat arrangement of your teeth
(Half above and half beneath) in rows.

I like your eyes, I like their fringes.
The way they focus on me gives me twinges.
Your upper arms drive me berserk.
I like the way your elbows work, on hinges.

I like your wrists, I like your glands,
I like the fingers on your hands.
I’d like to teach them how to count,
And certain things we might exchange,
Something familiar for something strange.
I’d like to give you just the right amount and get some change.

I like it when you tilt your neck up.
I like the way you nod and hold a teacup.

I like your legs when you unwind them.
Even in trousers I don’t mind them.
I like each softly-moulded kneecap.
I like the little crease behind them.
I’d always know, without a recap, where to find them.

I like the sculpture of your ears.
I like the way your profile disappears
Whenever you decide to turn and face me.
I’d like to cross two hemispheres and have you chase me.
I’d like to smuggle you across frontiers
Or sail with you at night into Tangiers.
I’d like you to embrace me.

I’d like to see you ironing your skirt and cancelling other dates.
I’d like to button up your shirt.
I like the way your chest inflates.
I’d like to soothe you when you’re hurt
Or frightened senseless by invertebrates.

I’d like you even if you were malign
And had a yen for sudden homicide.
I’d let you put insecticide into my wine.
I’d even like you if you were the Bride of Frankenstein
Or something ghoulish out of Mamoulian’s Jekyll and Hyde.
I’d even like you as my Julian of Norwich or Cathleen in Houlihan.
How melodramatic
If you were something muttering in attics
Like Mrs Rochester or a student of boolean mathematics.

You are the end of self-abuse.
You are the eternal feminine.
I’d like to find a good excuse
To call on you and find you in.
I’d like to put my hand beneath your chin. And see you grin.
I’d like to taste your Charlotte Russe,
I’d like to feel my lips upon your skin,
I’d like to make you reproduce.

I’d like you in my confidence.
I’d like to be your second look.
I’d like to let you try the French Defence and mate you with my rook.
I’d like to be your preference and hence
I’d like to be around when you unhook.
I’d like to be your only audience,
The final name in your appointment book, your future tense.

3rd of December

2009-12-08T21:30:00.006-06:00

Zainab stared at her reflection in the mirror as she adjusted her graduation cap on top of her hijab. There was a knock on the door and her little sister peeked in smiling. "We are waiting for you hurry!" she exclaimed. Zainab turned back to the mirror with a lazy wave to her sister. She wanted to look good for today was an important day. She pursued her lips together and watched as her dimples formed at the corners of her mouth. One last thing and she would be ready. She reached for her top drawer and pulled a tiny jewelery box. Her fingers trembled as she opened the box to pull out a simple gold chain with an inscription on the clasp.

Zainab turned the chain to read the inscription even though it was permanently engraved in her heart when there was another urgent knock on her door. "Zainab," came a gruff voice. Her father's body was framed by the door as he smiled beguilingly at her. His eyes seemed to be dancing today and Zainab hadn't seen that look for years. Actually the last time she had seen that look was 20 years ago when she was 9. Then the color drained from his face as his eyes saw what was clasped in Zainab's hand. Ali Dheer, Zainab's dad, stomped into the room and made to grab the necklace from Zainab but she was too fast for him and she stowed it in her clothing. "Give it to me!". "No! Abo please I am begging you please not today." Zainab started sobbing as her father glared at her and beckoned with his hand for her to hand over the necklace. Zainab slowly opened her hand and let the necklace slip through her fingers into her father's waiting palm. Ali turned on his heels and walked out of his daughter's room.

15 mins later Zainab emerged from the house and joined her family as they set out for The Shamo Hotel. Every couple of feet Zainab heard her name being called out as neighbours and well wishers congratulated her. You see today Zainab was graduating as a doctor of medicine. She was 29 years old and against all odds was graduating with a degree in Somalia, of all places. A land that had been written off by many of its inhabitants as well as the world. A land that her family had called home for the last 10 years. A land that she once was ashamed to call her own but now held a special place in her heart. Her heart was slowly filling with happiness as she forgot what happened earlier. She held on to her sister's hands as she cast her eyes around to look for her fellow graduates making their way to the ceremony.

"Zainab!"............"Cadde!" It was her best friend. She walked faster to catch up with him and his family. He looked dapper today with his cap and gown. He even seemed to have shaved off his wadaad beard. Zainab smiled playfully at him as she raised her eyebrows in appreciation. As they neared the venue their group expanded as more of Zainab's class mates joined them. Pretty soon they were a mass of noisy conversations, chuckles, giggles, hugs and kisses making its way into the hallways of The Shamo Hotel. The place looked transformed as Zainab noticed the stage and the podium. She also noted the placement of their chairs, those red velvet lined chairs that would usher in a new era for all of them. They were the second class graduating from Benadir University. "Okay everyone take your places!" came one of their professor's voice.

Zainab felt someone tugging at her robe and she turned to see who it was. It was her little sister and she motioned for Zainab to lower her head. As Zainab lowered her head her sister's hands circled around her neck and Zainab felt the light weight of a necklace on her neck. Zainab turned her wide eyes to her sister as she twirled the necklace between her fingers. Her sister gave her a kiss and whispered "We all love you Zainab". As the place quieted down for the beginning of the ceremony Zainab counted how many ministers had turned up for the ceremony. She could recognize only three but she was pretty sure the other two guys sitting by them were also ministers for they all had an official looking face. All the journalists were jostling for position as one by one the dignitaries were introduced. Zainab's heart was pounding as she looked at the sea of people around her. As one of the dignitaries got up to talk Zainab tried to find her father in the crowd. She looked for his snow dusted, short, cropped hair and she found him three rows behind the journalists. She tried to catch his eye as a woman sitting by him got up from her seat and made her way to the front.

Zainab watched as the woman reached underneath her robes to adjust something. Something about the woman wasn't right. Zainab couldn't place her finger on it and turned to ask Cadde's opinion when she felt then heard an explosion rock the hall. She felt her body being propelled a few feet away as dust enveloped the hall. There was turmoil and confusion as people panicked to get out of the hall. Zainab tried to open her eyes wider to adjust to the sudden loss of light but she couldn't see anything except for blurred objects. Noise was reaching her intermittently as she gingerly tried to get up from her position. She didn't have any strength in her and there was blood on the ground. Zainab looked as the pool of blood got bigger and darker. It was deoxygenated blood thus must be coming from the pulmonary artery, she thought amusingly, as that piece of knowledge from her first anatomy class resurfaced.

Someone kneeled over her as she tried yet again to move. It was Cadde. He was speaking to her but she couldn't hear him nor could she say anything to him. Her body was getting cold and she was going in and out of consciousness. "Zainab! Zainab! stay with me, stay awake you have to stay awake!" Cadde urged her as he felt along her body trying to find the source of the blood. His fingers found a piece of iron wedged firmly underneath Zainab left breast. Cadde looked around trying to find one of the professors. He couldn't do this! He wasn't a doctor. Zainab was. He was just an engineer. All around him Cadde saw bodies crying for help or bleeding to death. The air itself felt heavy around him and he barely could draw in air. As he held Zainab's hand Cadde sent a prayer to God asking him to save this girl that was so brave. This girl that withstood all that was thrown to her. This girl who had been his friend and confidant for the past five years. Cadde leaned down to beg Zainab to hold on and as he did Zainab thrust something in his hand. Cadde watched as her hand fell away from him and knew Zainab was gone.

In his hand lay a simple gold necklace with an inscription "The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams".

Asiye funzwa na mamaye hufunzwa na ulimwengu

2009-11-21T08:29:00.006-06:00

Translated this means whomsoever is not taught by the mother will be taught with the world. It is a swahili proverb that I have heard repeated over and over again during the course of my life. It is funny when you really think about it because a mother is the first thing a child encounters in this world. The mother becomes the focus of the child and will continue to be so for millenniums to come no matter how much our society changes.

What role does a mother play then? She is a nurturer. She will pad the nest to protect her young and attack anything that comes close to them. She feeds the young and in the case of the homo sapiens build a protective shield around the young. This shield protects the young from the world and until this morning I never understood that there was one, or that I was also casting my own shield of sorts to protect others from the world.

I am here to inform you that it is an exercise in futility. It is impossible and very detrimental to the 'protectee'. This person will grow up thinking that life is A-Ok. This person will grow up not having a care in the world because the nurturer has done all they can to ward off the world. So is it then in our best interest to protect our young? Do we then not disable them and leave them prone to shock when they first encounter the real world?

What if the first time your child was bullied, instead of acting like a mother hen and talking to the parents of the other child or advising your child to walk away, you instead let your child figure out a solution themselves? What if the first time your child comes homes to find your spouse gone, you don't make up some lie about them being away for business or family emergency, and you actually told them that you were getting divorced? Will your child break or shatter into pieces?

YES, I know I am nuts but hear me out. Our personality and character are shaped by events that occur throughout our lives. If I hadn't gone through X,Y,Z I wouldn't be ina hebel, but now I wonder were there things my parents protected me from? If I had experienced them would I be someone else?

In essence I am wondering if we shouldn't, from the get go, let our children experience life and just be there as parents for them;a support system in place whereby they can come for advice or a hug or unconditional love. Could we go against our inherent need to shelter our young and let them feel grief/pain/torture/love/sadness/exhilaration/exasperation/etc? Would I be able to? Would I be wrong if I did that?

O, I miss you

2009-11-07T23:23:00.007-06:00

Dear O,

Tomorrow is the day my mother gave birth to you 29 years ago. I wonder how you are? If you are well? If you are happy? As I write this post I cry because I think of how lonely it is not to have a family around you. It has been three years since I saw you and two years since I spoke to you. I know that you are estranged from the family but I can't deny the ache I feel everytime I think of you and what has become of you. Will you ever forgive us? us you? I love you no matter what and I am not sure you believe that but you must, since you call me whenever you need me. Its the times in between that I worry about you the most, for I have no inkling of where you lay your head. I pray that you are happy in your life. I pray that you find peace in life. I pray that you forgive your parents for their decisions and forgive me for keeping away from you. I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday in my own way. I wanted to tell you I miss you, a lot. May God smile graciously on you today and all days. Be safe my brother for my life wouldn't be the same if you weren't alive and for that I dedicate this to you on your birthday. I love you. Always.

Your sister forever,

Lambeau Field welcomes Viking clad Favre

2009-11-02T10:22:00.006-06:00

I wanted to write this post last night but I was too tired and emotionally drained to write it out. My God what a game. The most fantastic game I have watched for a while and that is saying a lot. When Favre hadn't called for the snap and Sullivan snapped the ball ,I saw the start of terrible things. GreenBay didn't fare well with the overturned ball and only got a field goal off that possession thanks to our DEFENSE. I mean Lambeau Field was filled with boos and hisses everytime Favre walked unto the field. They were getting to him psychologically, I thought. But, when he got the ball back due to Jolly's penalty and scored via AP I was assured Favre was back.

Second quarter found Favre dismantling GreenBay's defense. He went to TE Shiancoe for another touchdown. Third quarter Favre find WR Harvin who had good coverage on his route but for some odd reason GreenBay didn't go for the ball, matter fact the three guys toppled to the ground. 24 unanswered point later we finally get to see Aaron Rodgers get the protection he needs to find his game. Mind you he has already been sacked four times at this point. This is where the game starts. At the 12:58 mark of the third quarter GreenBay finally awoke from their slumber and made for a heart pounding second half. It all started with a weird kickoff from GreenBay. I think they got scared of Percy Harvin and the yards he gained on the returns. An overturned ball later GB gets a TD, another drive later TE Havner get another TD.

Fourth Quarter and we are neck and neck. A game that was considered a blowout in the first half had just turned into a nail biting, clock watching game. Favre finds Dugan for a TD and Rodgers gives us a perfect example of why he has the second most yards on GB rooster. Jennings gets the TD running an absolutely perfect route. I mean he had one on one coverage on the play and he scored. I was on pins and needles now. When AP went on that sideline I thought this is bananas, how can this game get any more exciting. We were not done yet. A couple plays later Favre finds Berrian and scores his 21st career 4th TD game and that ladies and gents was the best game I have seen in a long long time.

Let give credit where credit is due. Favre wasn't the X factor in this game and neither was AP. They both contributed a lot but my admiration goes to Mr Percy Harvin. WR Harvin had more yards than AP even though he had less carries than AP, not to mention his 77 yard return in the 1st quarter. That man can run! My admiration also goes to our defense. Mr Jared Allen, Williams x2, Edwards, Sapp and the rest of the crew. Vikings defense sacked Aaron Rodgers a total of 6 times and we are now leading with 7 wins under our belt. Lets not lose momentum! Come on Vikings!

Image source

Imaginary Library

2009-11-01T07:15:00.003-06:00

Mornings are never complete without perusing the NYTimes. I noticed there was a column about a competition by the experimental Parisian literary movement Oulipo – Ouvroir de Littérature Potentielle (“The Workshop of Potential Literature”). The rules of the competition are simple one only has to stack their imaginary library according to any category they desire. The library can be of movies, books or music.

An example could be: The Green Mile,The Color Purple, Purple Rain, Moulin Rouge. Lady in Red, The Hunt for Red October, Crimson Tide, A White Christmas, Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle, White Chicks, Pink Panther I & II, The Diary of a Mad Black Woman, Pitch Black, Black Hawk Down, Black Knight, The Golden Child.

Why don't you take a stab at it and see how skillful you are.

Dream State

2009-10-26T10:40:00.002-05:00

It was the first time my grandma was going to sit behind the wheels of a 400 horsepower engine equipped with a nitro tank. I questioned my decision but then I looked into her age lined face and I knew it was too late to back out now. The engine roared to life and off we went. She gripped the wheel tightly in her hands as she stared unblinkingly at the road ahead of her. We came to our first major intersection and I held on to my seat as I instructed her on merging techniques. I was starting to breath normally by the time we got to the fifth intersection. This one included a set of train tracks for the local tram. It was a six point intersection with traffic flowing in 12 different directions. I needed her to take the road leading into the tunnel. I explained that she needed to keep her eye on the road she needed and forget all the other roads. It was difficult for even an experienced driver to maneuver this intersection. The light turned green and off she went.

The car careened as she twisted the steering wheel to face the intersection she needed. My soul was left behind as her foot didn't ease off the accelerator. My hand grabbed the steering wheel as I yelled for her to slow down. I twisted it this way and that barely missing cars that were making their way unto the expressway ahead. I looked up in horror as I saw the red unblinking light of traffic jammed cars. I told my grandmother we are going to die. I held her head to my chest as my POV shifted from my body to my soul.

I watched from above my body as the car lost control and collided with the cement piers holding the flyover above the road. I watched as cracks begun to appear. I watched as the first pieces of cement begun to disintegrate and rain down on my car. I watched as I felt my body shutting down its function. My soul felt released and uninhibited.

I was emerging from a pool of water. There was a man standing by a set of clothes and he smiled as he looked at me. I felt more than saw my grandmother emerge from the water. I have been here before. Last time I was sent back. I looked at the broad shouldered man as he patiently waited for me. I opened my mouth to ask if I was dead. He smiled at me again. "Leyla! Leyla," came my mother's voice. She was on the other side of the pool. She looked confused as she beckoned me to the edge. " I am not of the living mama, " I told her. My eyes were swimming in tears as I knew this time I was not going to see her again. My mother shook her head at me. She looked past me to the man at the edge of the pool. Her face crumpled as its dawned on her that I wasn't coming towards her, I was making my way to the man. My heart was gripped in fear and I cried in agony knowing what awaits me. I never looked back to my mother but I heard her pitiful cries and invocations of the Lord's name. The man placed the garment around my body as he once again smiled at me.

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I dreamt this last night and awoke with my eyes flush with tears. The image is so vivid that I had to write it down because it is rare that I dream and far more rare that I can remember the details.

A Motivational Dubya?

2009-10-26T10:24:00.003-05:00

You ever heard of the series of seminars known as "Get Motivated"? It is geared to people who want to step up their game when it comes to selling themselves/their ideas/their products. Our former President, George W Bush Jr, and his wife are the newest addition to this year's circuit. They are supposedly going to earn over $100,000/hour long speech they give.

What I find interesting is this guy is actually going to promote the myth that you don't have to be competent to accomplish something. He went from being a C student in college, drinking and drug problems, failure at running a bunch of business to being a president for TWO terms of one of the most powerful nation in the world! Lets not forget he left office with a 22% approval rating.

So for all you people who live in the South, be sure to avail yourself to the talk he will give today in Ft Worth Texas. He will be joined on stage by Rudy Guiliani, Colin Powell and Terry Bradshaw. Make sure you carry a thick pad of paper and pen and write dammit. This man is a genius to have duped Americans into voting for him for two successive terms with all the baggage he carries. Either that or just get the name of his publicist.

Image source

Stabbed in the back II

2009-10-23T22:00:00.006-05:00

Mahad stood stock still like a mannequin in a store front. His mind was stuck in a rut........What just happened? His gaze fell upon the pieces of the vase scattered on the carpet. It was a reflection of what was happening to his world. He silently walked to the edge of the bed and sat with his head cradled in hands. It couldn't be! She couldn't have found out, could she? Timiro's face kept materializing in front of him and he could almost touch the betrayal etched in her face. The laugh lines that he had learned to look for every time she broke out in a smile were obscured by the harsh and rigid form her face took on.

Suddenly something clicked and Mahad mobilized. He needed his phone, where was it? He looked at his bedside, her bedside, under the bed. Nope not there. He grabbed the home phone and dialed his mobile. He cocked his ear but still no sound. Mahad moved about the room peering this way and that and finally deduced that the phone must be somewhere else in the house. He called it again as he stepped out of the room. There! He could hear it. It was lying by the top of the staircase. As his eyes fell upon the screen, his worst fear was realized. Timiro must have read the text messages.

Next thing Mahad knew, he was flying down the stairs with his towel on. It was as he was yanking the front door open that he realized he had to at least get some clothes on. Bounding back up the stairs Mahad started strategizing. Ok all is not lost, Timiro suspects but she doesn't know everything. Right now she is thinking of the worst case scenario which was far from the truth.......yea yea.....I just need to get to her. Pulling open the drawers, Mahad slipped into his jeans and threw on his UMASS sweatshirt. He grabbed his phone and car keys as he hurried out the house. The car was still out front so she must have either gone with someone else or used public transport. There was only one place Timiro was going to go when she was distraught; her mother's.

Mahad called ahead to the airport and booked the first flight out of London. She couldn't get to her parent's before he talked to her. They have been waiting for this opportunity for months. He needed to hurry. Time was of the essence. It was do or die. This was for all the marbles and he knew this was one wrong he had to fix no matter what it took. Twenty minutes later and still alive, Mahad sprinted through the airport to get onboard the plane. He run through lines, explanations, justifications, excuses, conciliations, you name it Mahad analyzed the situation and the probability of its success. As the pilot announced the descent, Mahad said a silent prayer to God. His life depended on this moment. His actions in the next hour were going to determine the rest of his life. There were countless ways he could screw this up, a single word or phrase would send him to his doom.

Mahad, if you asked people who knew him, was a confident SOB. He was the type of guy who you sent to the negotiating table when you needed miracles to occur. His tongue was sweeter than honey and he understood his power, which made him a force to be reckoned with. But, today he felt like he was walking the last green mile. He mulled over his predicament as the taxi made its way to the train station. His eyes scrolled down the arrival timetable of the trains (on his Iphone) trying to figure out which one Timiro was on. He narrowed it down to two trains with the first one arriving in ten minutes. The taxi pulled up to the train station and Mahad handed the cabbie a note but didn't stick around for the change.

His feet felt heavy with lead as he criss-crossed the mass of people making their way to the exits. Mahad stood on the platform and scanned every head that alighted from the train. He was a foot taller than most people so this was an easy task, what wasn't easy was the staccato beat that pounded in his chest. He felt his body tense up and sweat poured out of his pores. Then his stomach dropped as he caught sight of Timiro's head bent in submission as she let herself be carried along by the masses. Mahad took a step forward and before he could make his move, her head rose and her eyes bore into his very soul. His breath caught in his throat as he fought the urge to turn tail and hide in shame. She stood forlorn as people pushed and shoved past her. He stood waiting as his willed his soul to carry his message to her. To tell her that nothing happened. To tell her that he was weak and had succumbed. To tell her that he hadn't betrayed her. He hadn't deserted her. Her sacrifices mattered. Her love mattered. She mattered!

Stabbed in the back

2009-10-21T15:51:00.005-05:00

Timiro lay her head against the glass and stared sightlessly as the landscape zoomed by her. She was on a train heading home to her mother in Manchester. She took a deep breath as she tried to suppress the anguish in her heart. She had been in her own house a few hours ago and now she was homeless and husbandless. Life can be so trifling at times. She closed her eyes as she retraced her morning.

She had awoken to a bright sunny day in London which was a blessing for that time of year. The sun streamed through the window lighting up the room and waking her up. She peered sleepily at her husband who was sick with the flu. He seemed to be slumbering peaceful so Alhamdullilah he must be on the mend. Slowly putting her foot on the ground Timiro run down the list of things she ought to do today. The kids needs to be dropped at school, she needed to pick up some grocery, she had a GP appointment and she also need to go pick up her husband's suits from the cleaners. He was going back to work tomorrow and she knew he would require his power suit.

Timiro bustled around the house for the next couple hours getting the kids ready and when she finally was ready to leave the house she went to check on her hubby. He was still sleeping bless his heart. Timiro moved closer to check his temperature and noticed his phone blinking. She reached down to move it out of the way and place it on the table so as not wake him when something on the screen flashed for attention. It was a text message, no a few text messages. Something told Timiro to open it but she didn't dare. She had moved past that now. She was at a better place when it came to her husband, but still something nagged at her. As she left the room Timiro realized that she still had the phone in her hand.

"Hey baby. I missed you. Call me when you get this message."

"Hey hope you feeling better. I was thinking about you. Call me."

"Hey wondering what you are doing. Can't wait to talk to you"

Her mind reeled with shock as her knees suddenly felt weak. Timiro grasped the banister for support as she reread the messages. Was he cheating on her? Disbelief was quickly followed by anger. How dare he? After all the effort she put forward? How could he do that? Timiro felt sick to her stomach and slowly let her body slide to the ground. Her mind stopped functioning as a wave of pain followed by righteous anger washed over her. It wasn't possible......It just wasn't. What did she do wrong? What was missing in their marriage? Why didn't he talk to her about it?

Questions upon questions flooded her mind but none had an answer. She wanted to wake him and shake the answers out of him when her little girl's voice called for her. Timiro's mind focused on her child's voice as she wiped the angry tears from her eyes. She got up slowly using the banister as support and made it downstairs. She bundled the kids in the car and drove them to school. She called her GP and cancelled her appointment. She came home and grabbed a bag from the closet. She marched upstairs not mindful of any noise she caused. Walking into their bedroom she saw that he was awake. There was no one on the bed. Timiro opened her bag and started throwing things in there. Shirt, skirts, abaya, bras, panties, hijabs, tights, perfumes. It all went in helter skelter. She didn't care if there was order or disorder. Her life was over! Her marriage was over!

She heard the bathroom door open and turned her malicious eyes to her husband. His smile froze on his lips as he took in the scene. Crash! Timiro threw the vase by her bedside across the room at him.

" How could you? This is the thanks I get for marrying you and sticking it out for all these years? Fuck you! I hope she is a disease ridden piece of trash! I hope you die! Don't you come close to me.......I can't stand looking at you!"

Timiro yanked her bag from the floor and proceeded to bulldoze her way out of the room. She grabbed her purse and keys on her way out the door and with tears streaming down her eyes she walked to the nearest train station. She figured she had an hours head start on him before the shock wore off and her husband came looking for her.

She got off at Euston station and proceeded to the ticketing area. She got the earliest train to Manchester. She didn't let her mind catch up with her body till she sat herself in her seat, but now an hour into the journey she couldn't help but recall everything vividly. She wondered if he will come looking or what the kids will say when they come home and found her gone? She slowly let her body heave the anguish out of her as her sobs racked her body. Her insides felt gutted and worse she knew that there was no turning back now. The story had been written and the ink had dried.

Are you a snitch?

2009-10-13T20:23:00.001-05:00

If you saw a crime being committed would you tell the authority? Would you tell the authority even if you know the person is of your race/qabil/clan/family? Would you tell the authority even if you know that you are placing your life in danger?

I have heard of so many crimes that happen within our community and there are witnesses who can identify the perps but they keep their mouths shut. This is not a spectacle found only in Somalis but also in the African American, Latino, African, Pakistani, basically most immigrant communities.

I have always wondered why we bundle up the perps and send them somewhere else to evade the authorities. Don't we ever put ourselves in the victim's family shoes? How would you feel if you loved one was hurt and there were plenty of people who saw it but no one came forward. You are left wondering if there is any justice in this world.

We should stop this STOP SNITCHING campaign. Seriously, its our own people we are hurting by protecting these thugs and killers. Trust me you are doing them a disservice by protecting them from the consequences of their crimes. I am sure its really hard to see someone you love being incarcerated especially if you are the tool behind that but please think of the victim's family and SNITCH!

Snow on the ground

2009-10-12T11:57:00.002-05:00

Its snowing in October. I am so looking into those school in the Caribbean now.

I have something I have to do but don't want to do. How does one resolve having two minds about something? Xuujo socooto!

I wish I could throw a fit!

2009-09-30T00:54:00.002-05:00

As a child it is so much easier to get what you want. You throw a tantrum and if all goes well the adult will get tired of shushing you and giving you time outs and hand you your heart's desire. As an adult it is much difficult to get what you want especially if its something you cannot/aren't supposed to have. What do you do then to quench your heart's desire?

Oh lawd give me strength :)

Eid Mubarak Ya Muslimin

2009-09-19T10:41:00.004-05:00

This is probably the last day before Eid. Inshallah I hope we have all reaped the benefits of this blessed month. There are a couple reminders though. One, Inshallah is that whatever you were doing in Ramadhan that was good that you continue in the same fashion after Ramadhan. The other is that we remember to fast the first 6 days of Shawwal. This holds great rewards.

Here are a couple duas to say leading up to Eid-ul-Fitr:

Before last Iftar:

Oh Allah, please accept all of my prayers, fasting, and remembrance of You during this blessed month.Please forgive me for the shortcomings in my worship and help me improve by next Ramadan.Ya Allah, help me continue the good habits I have acquired during Ramadan.Oh Allah, please make me of the righteous, the guided, and those You love.Ya Allah, please guide me and my family to the Straight Path and help us become excellent Muslims for Your sake.I worship only You and only from You do I seek help. Please increase Your bounty for me.

For EID:

Ya Allah, open our hearts towards our neighbors.Ya Allah, open the hearts of our neighbors towards us.Ya Allah, unite the Muslims in the USA and the world to serve Allah's creation to please Him.Ya Allah, give Sabr (patience) and freedom to the innocent prisoners and guide those who are at fault.Ya Allah, You take care of the oppressed. Please help the oppressed in Palestine, Kashmir, Afghanistan, Iraq, India, Chechnya, Somalia and other parts of the world.Ya Allah, guide oppressors to the right path and move the hearts of extremists from the harmful path.Ya Allah, give wisdom to our leaders; accept their sacrifice; bless them with more courage.

I pray that we all have a wonderful Eid in an Islamic fashion.

Image source

Thought of the day

2009-09-12T23:48:00.005-05:00

I saw this and thought to myself how times have changed. I miss the days when my mom asked me where I came from when I strolled in, not that I came home at odd hours, its just that I had a guilty look. I remember once during winter, I walked in with chapped lips that I had been licking all day and my mom thought I had been snogging some poor fella. I had to give her a good 15 mins explaination as to why my lips looked red and irritated.

Now that I have proved myself to be a miskiin she doesn't check up on me as she used to. At times she even gives me a wide berth making me feel guilty when I arrive home anytime after midnight. Cherish those moments gals (I can't believe I am saying that) for when your momma stops asking you where you have been it means its time for you to get hitched to a band-wagon.

My book of rhymes

2009-09-09T16:39:00.005-05:00

I luv Nas. I am by no means anything as creative as he is or MOS DEF/TALIB/BLACK ICE/TAALAM etc but I can string a few sentences together. Here are a few of these so called sentences from my book of rhymes.

Forever in turmoil

pursuant of your affection

residing in eternal

limbo awaiting

anticipating your every need

Forever yours

never my own

searching faithfully

for my love

for our love

Forever looking

hoping to find

a mirror that will

reflect the truth

of you and I

Forever mine

yours no more

alas, I have

always known

it was all for

naught.

-------------------------------------------

Hear me

and allow me to become your resounding board

allow me to strum the strings that used to be us

found between then and now

allow me then to relive the sweet sorrow

Listen to me

and allow my voice to reverb within your soul

as I beat out my agony on your drums

hoping you understand that

I am but a dancer without a soul

a writer without a scroll

an orchestra without a horn

Listen to me

as I beat out life's rhythms with my shackles

hear as the bass merges with the treble

as the blood adds to the sound

as the beats rise and fall.

Silence

as you finally hear that

all I want is to be free.

This was a piece written after reading another person's poem.

--------------------------------------------------

Do we ever cross paths in a different life

Do you recognize me then

or can I form a new identity

one which will mirror your desires

mingle with your flesh

dance with your soul

and sleep in your warmth.

---------------------------------------------------------

Like a lotus in a swamp

a beautiful friend is a find

You dry my tears with your words

and set me on my way with your charm

I love your big graceful hands

thats guide me through rain or sun

I am forever glad to have found the one

who'll be there even when I am down.

Listening to Arias

2009-09-06T13:45:00.006-05:00

I have spent all day listening to Arias because I can and its the only time that my mind finds peace. Most of my fam and friends think I am an odd ball whenever I go to catch my fav opera at the local house. I think if I lived in New York I would probably be broke from buying tickets all the time. I remember when I went to Sydney, my delight at being in THE FAMED OPERA HOUSE and sitting in my chair. It was like a dream come true. I can't wait for next season because there are a couple shows I want to catch, like Strauss' Salome and Puccini's La Boheme. For now here is a sample of one of those arias that people know but don't recognize as being part of Rossini's The Barber of Seville.

Taraweh Prayers

2009-08-27T06:32:00.003-05:00

This will be short and sweet. I was ruminating on how some people act when they are at the mosque. To me, a mosque is a place of worship and not a daycare center. If you are a mother and your child is fussy or needs constant attention, I don't think it is fair for you to bring it to the mosque where your attention should be on worship. I like kids but I do think that it is intolerable to have six/seven children do nothing but fuss/walk around/play in front of you when you are praying and listening to Khutbah. I have the same problem during Juma prayers but it is significantly worse when its day in and out. I specifically cherish my Taraweh prayers and don't want to leave the masjid feeling like my attention was elsewhere the whole entire time.

Please leave your children at home or if you can't just stay home with them. It is after all Sunnah.

Ramadhan Kareem

2009-08-22T11:19:00.003-05:00

Its our version of new year. What is your resolution this year?

Mine is to find inner peace. My history is littered with people who have used and abused me and my nature. I have always said in my mind that they are forgiven and that I harbor no ill feelings towards it. I now realize that was all a facade. Deep down I loathe these people and wish them nothing but evil things. So this Ramadhan, I will attempt to really try to forgive these people.

There is a hadith about two brothers in Islam standing in front of God during the day of judgement. One is the oppressor and the other is the oppressee (not a word but you catch my drift). The oppressed brother asks God to take all the good deeds from the oppressor and give them to him. God did this. Then the oppressed brother asks God to take all his bad deeds and give them to the oppressor. God instead gives him a glimpse of Heaven. There is a big beautiful house in his line of vision and the brother asks God if the house belongs to a prophet? shahid? most righteous? sahaba? God says no that is your house if you forgive your brother for his deeds. The brother forgave his oppressor.

I have to attempt to forgive and it is difficult because I hold all the things that hurt me deep within. I don't let anyone know about it and the times when I do let it out via tears I hide in my room when the whole house is asleep. It is only in forgiving others that I can face Allah and ask for forgiveness.

When asking Allah for forgiveness it has to come from the bottom of your heart. You should liken the feeling to drowning. Imagine yourself lost in sea with only a plank of wood keeping you afloat. Then your plank breaks apart and you start drowning. As you head dips under you move your legs and come up gasping for air, then you go right back down. This is repeated several times till your energy is spent and you finally accept your fate. As the light on the surface of the water slowly dims you find that little reserve of energy to get back to the surface and take a gulp of air. You should ask God for forgiveness as if its that last bit of air before you drown. It should come from some primal level of survival, and it is in this moment that some people shed tears.

I wish you all a wonderful Ramadhan and good luck with your resolutions.

Image source

Apology to My Unborn-Bassey Ikpi

2009-08-21T00:23:00.006-05:00

I fear that you will never sleep
that like these fingers long and too thin
to hold rings or commitments
you will inherit your mother’s insomnia

your father's restless spirit

Child, I wish I could quiet all your questions
tell you the exact number of stars in the sky
Wish I could show you where the moon goes at sunrise
I want to give you one morning worth rising for
I pray that you will close your eyes
see the world through the only thing

I have fit to pass down to you
this heart of a dreamer

But I want you stronger sooner
want you kind and brave
want you unafraid to fight
for what you believe and need
want you beautiful and free
want you nothing like your mother
this girl trembling before each new day
this girl frightened of herself

love this girl who finds the word ‘woman’

a cloak too heavy to don most days
you deserve someone who wears the moniker like banner
carries easy like sun in summer
but, child, what can I tell you of peace
when you were probably conceived in a cacophony of questions

Still, I think of you as possible
can feel the breath of God light against your skin
can hear you, softness, eyes closed laughing
real as the beating staccato against my chest

I wish that we are not too much like shadow and brick
voices thrown against walls
these hands are tired of building

I want you to like me
To know me
To know me now
In moments like this
your mother lays awake
watching, yet, another morning from the wrong side
practicing slow this breathing that will one day usher you into this world

I still fear that you will never know sleep
but I know that I need your laughter

need the gentle curve of your fingers
need your eyes locked on mine
need you here,

now

for balance

I still think you deserve more than
this threat of me as your mother
still attempting her own world of colored things
but child, just promise me that you will be, eventually
I need your possibility
like I need a night worth sleeping for

Image source

The end

2009-08-20T23:58:00.002-05:00

Muna drummed her fingers to Drake's new song as she skirted Shoreview. She was feeling good after watching a movie with a friend and spending some quality time. Her feet weren't as sore any more and neither was her back. She stretched her right foot tentatively to reach the brake pedals and a pain shot through her leg. Muna cursed loudly and adjusted her seat to prevent any more pain. Another shot of pain went through her body and this time it wasn't in her foot. Muna grabbed at her chest. It felt like needles piercing her veins. She removed her foot from the gas pedal and breathed deeply. One breath.....two breath......she slowly felt the band easing on her chest.

As she relaxed, she eased her foot back on the gas pedal. Her right eye suddenly went dark. Muna's instinct told her to pull over but she again breathed. One breath.........two breath............three breath.........four breath. Still her right eye remained sightless. Muna knew it would be another 5 minutes before she could pull into her garage. Her mind started sprinting ahead of her thoughts. Hospital......ER........pull over.........call mom.............call 911............drive faster..............pull over..................drive to the ER.

Her breath was coming in gasps. She couldn't draw in any air no matter how wide she opened her mouth. The world was losing color and her partial vision narrowed. It was nearly over. "Did I pray today?" No. Did I read the Quran? No. God let me live and I will be the most devout believer there ever was. Muna was wheezing now as her bronchioles constricted. I love life. I have much to do. Not now. Muna grabbed at her shirt collar. She could feel her grip on the world loosening. The car was banking to the right and she barely had any strength left in her body.

Muna in her purple dress with a doll standing in front of a house. Beep! Muna crying on the phone with her sister before flying to USA. Screech! Muna kissing her grandma's forehead before the kafan covered her forever. Crash! Muna in a kafan in the earth.Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. Muna in complete darkness awaiting.

There is a war going on outside,
no man is safe from,
you can run
but you can't hide forever
from me
-Mobb Deep

Jawaahir Dance

2009-08-17T20:16:00.007-05:00

Last night I went with my friend to watch the Jawaahir dance group perform at the Southern theatre by Seven Corners in Minneapolis. There were some parts of the performance that I didn't quiet enjoy but for the most part it was very well done. There was a live band playing and I loved loved the oud player. I swear I was in tears when he was singing. The other song wasn't bad either and off course the tabla solo was excellent. One of the violin players looked familiar, till I realized he is a presenter on public access TV.

Cassandra has a very subtle dance style and unless you realize that, you are likely to discount her as not so good. I loved her performance especially the arm and finger movements. They were mesmerizing. The show is still going on till the end of this week and on Wednesday its pay as you are able. It is very informal because you can meet the dancers at the end of the perfomance and talk with the them.

Its been a while since I danced to arabic tunes and watching the show made me hunger for it. So, my friend and I are going to attend a belly dancing class just for kicks. I am pretty sure I can still learn a few things especially the figure eight shake. So for all you MPLS guys, check out the show and hope you like the music as much as I did.

Mother Nature is the best teacher

2009-08-16T10:42:00.005-05:00

There is a new science in town and its known as Biomimicry. It is the science of emulating nature to create human technology that is cost effective and in tune with leaving mutualistically with the rest of the living organisms on earth. Humans are the biggest consumers on earth and to add insult to injury we are wasteful. To minimize our impact on earth some scientist/technologist have taken it upon themselves to study nature and model solutions to human problems from these studies.

Nature is very resourceful and never wasteful. Take for example the lotus never gets dirty even though it grows in swampy areas. Why is that? Most people think its because it is smooth but in reality the lotus leaves have bumps on them that resemble a mountainscape. Therefore when dirt particle rests on the leaves they teether on these bumps, and when it rains the drops of water are able to cart them off the leaves as a rolling snow balls would pick up leaves. Thusly paints companies are trying to mimic this effect and some have accomplished them.

So next time you are outside, study nature. You might just find the solution to drought or famine in the microscopic/macroscopic world of mother nature.

Image source

Changes

2009-08-14T10:07:00.002-05:00

For the first time in months I awoke without feeling lethargic. I hope this is the start of many days like this. I was actually contempleting going to an accupuncturist and having my Chi analyzed. I still might but for now I want to relish the feeling of energy coursing through my veins. Have a wonderful Friday folks. One more week to Ramadhan!

Ever think about crows?

2009-08-07T20:13:00.009-05:00

They are those pesky birds that are forever cawing at someone. They leave their poop all over your car just after you have washed it. They are mostly disliked till Joshua Klein came up with this genius idea of building a vending machine that is mutually beneficial to both our species (crows and humans).

During his talk Joshua Klein mentions a University of Washington study on crows. So I proceeded to look this up even though I distinctly remember listening to a show on NPR about crows. Professor Marzluff asked his students to wear a caveman mask whenever they tagged the crows. Why would he do that you ask? Well, because once, when someone was trying to get rid of a crow near their home they were forever cawed by the crows in the neighborhood and pretty soon it caught on and even crows that weren't in the neighborhood recognized him. So Marzluff performed the experiment and proved that crows recognized the caveman mask even when it was upside down.

So next time you think about killing a crow think about this two distinct stories about crows.

He gets sworn in today

2009-08-05T10:11:00.003-05:00

Ahmedinejad gets sworn in today as president elect of Iran. Its a sad day and I hope that by some miracle or rather he doesn't fulfill his oath. By the by, seem like US is ok with working with him, after calling him the elected president of Iran when they can tell that he stole the election. I am disappointed in Obama from not taking a stance against Ahmedinejad's presidency.

Evo Morales

2009-08-03T11:20:00.003-05:00

Gotta give it up for Evo Morales, the president of Bolivia. He has given the right to vote for self governance to Bolivia indigent population. Whether this will pass and be implemented is yet to be seen. The vote will take place in December amid the elections. The Bolivian elite is not happy to say the least but I think it is high time for the colonialist to restore some power equilibrium to natives of the land. These poor people have been under the thumb of Spanish settlers for years and I wonder if the vote for power of autonomy, what will they accomplish?

Commiserations

2009-08-02T15:34:00.005-05:00

Recently I have taken to tearing up whenever I hear any news of Iran. I am not sure why I feel such empathy for them. Puzzled at my excessive show of emotion, I have taken to avoiding any posts about them or any radio chatter. I am distraught at how no one is bothered with these courageous people. These people who have had a civilization since the era of King Darius (c. 500 BC). They are survivors and in my book stand up for their ideals. They have gone through much with the Shah's coup, Islamic revolution and now Ahmedinajad.

To see the pictures of the young people gathering together to show their contempt at the obvious tamperings of the election results. Hearing stories of brave youth who despite their parents pleas go out and face the Basij day in and out. I find myself asking what then of our youth? Why are we so quick to turn our backs to the horrors committed in Somalia? Do we not have the same blood coursing through our veins? Do we not empathize with the lost souls who are forever left in that desolate country?

I feel that if we want to have a viable country with a functioning government (of the people) then perhaps we should be willing to stand up for those ideals. Not via monetary means or by sitting together and having a hypothetical conversation about it but by taking the bull by the neck and wringing it. It took centuries for democracy to take root in the west. We can't expect it to occur immediately. It is a process albeit a long one but it is one that we should commit to and hopefully our children's children will live to see it. Just like the Iranians are committed to it and are not giving up on it even in the face of death/torture/life imprisonment.

King of Pop

2009-06-25T18:02:00.003-05:00

Its with astonishment that I realize the King of Pop will no longer be. I still remember the first night I sat with my siblings to watch the release of Thriller. I peeped in between my fingers whenever the dead came out of the grave but I couldn't help trying to learn to moves in the video. MJ's was the first CD I received from my boyfriend when we were dating and I still have it. I even have a nasheed that he purportedly sung. He will be missed by the masses but the MJ I fell in love with left a long time ago and I think I had already mourned him. May God place him in his good graces. Amin.

Perfect Private Parts

2009-04-04T19:19:00.005-05:00

Thursday evening as I was catching up on my recorded shows, I noticed a program running on BBC America. The title intrigued me enough to postpone my DVR viewing. I snuggled into my blanket a little bit as I berated myself for cleaning up my dinner plate at BELLA. The show was a documentary about cosmetic surgery that women want performed on their private parts due to self esteem issues. The show was hosted by a middle aged lady with two children. She followed a young girl as she set out to have the surgery performed. Asked why the young girl felt a need to have the surgery performed she mentioned that her mates laughed at her and her sister telling her potential boyfriend that she was a little lippy down there. She felt that perhaps if she thinned out her labia she would be more confident. This young lady didn't even go to her doc to have pap smears due to her feelings of disgust for her private parts. The camera follows her into the one day surgery room whereby she is given a local numbing agent as she braces herself for the knife. The surgery takes a few minutes and the young lady leaves to tend to her wounds at home. The surgeon informs the host the he performs between 10-15 surgeries of the labia per month.

Next the lady goes to some sculptor who is casting women's private parts in order to show the variations. She is hoping that this helps dissuade young girls from going under the knife all to gain a 'designer p****' . The host gets her private parts cast. The host sends one of interviewees to get her private part cast in hopes that she will not decide to have surgery. It works with the woman and she realizes she is not in any need of surgery and she actually is overcome emotionally. The host then heads off to interview an alternative therapy practitioner. In therapy apparently women are made to look at themselves and perhaps have a one on one confrontation with their private parts. Its a bizarre session and almost borders on new agey to me. Another interviewee ends up going with the host to the alternative therapy session. This young woman seems to have some issues with how she looks like down there and is presumably at peace with herself at the end of the session.

The coup de grace for me was when the whole issue of hymenoplasty. This issue brought up the subject of religious as well as cultural beliefs that are close to home. Women in our culture are judge on the purity during the wedding night. In the documentary a muslim girl is frantic to get the surgery so to hide the fact that she is not a virgin from her parents as well as her bethroed. The host ask a young indian/paki man if he expects to marry a virgin and he adamantly said that there was no way he would marry anything other than a virgin even though he might not be expected to be a virgin himself. Its a double standard that most women have to deal with. The host is overcome with tears as she notes that western women pride themselves for their sexual liberation and here they were chopping their bits all because they felt inferior to images that men have of them.

"Its all about presentation ain't it. When I have a meal I wouldn't like it to look like its being slapped together would I?" exclaimed a painter. All in all I knew about hymenoplasty for a while and used to think women were dumb even to undergo that since the hymen is cartilaginous tissue that can break by the simple act of riding a bike/camel/horse. Women are made differently Mashallah and some women can be married and still have their hymen intact. Its an odd world when a woman worth is judged by things beyond her control.

Flirting

2008-12-25T22:56:00.003-06:00

I was sitting on our couch reading a book while the rest of the family watched something on the telly. This included my four sisters and my brother. A man walked in and stood by the hallway entrance. He seemed familiar but I didn't/couldn't place his face. He motioned my brother to step outside with him for what I assumed to be a private affair. After a few minutes my brother comes back in and beckons to my other siblings. Realizing this was odd I just kept on reading. The minutes dragged on and finally everyone reconvened back in the living room, including the man.

The man came to sit across from me and waited silently. Finally I looked up. His eyes were the most beautiful hazel eyes I have ever seen. I stared willing a memory to resurface but I must have been staring hard because he flashed me a brilliant smile. Blushing I went back to my reading. "Ahem....I came to ask for your hand in marriage.***insert long silence***I talked to your family and they will support whatever decision you come to. **blink blink**All I am asking is for you to hear me out." I turned to look around to make sure this was really happening. A strange man walked into my house and asked for my hand. My siblings looked back at me with expectant faces.

I turned back to my suitor and examined him closer. His pants were ironed, his teeth were straight, he sat up straight, his nails were clipped and clean and by instinct I sniffed in his general direction. The scent he had on was unmistakable, it was Black by Kenneth Cole. I got up from my seat and motioned him to follow me. I lead the way towards the door and he followed close, holding the door open. In the crisp air outside, he took charge leading to me to a black Audi parked next to my Camry.

Beep Beep Beep Beep. I hit my alarm with my arm as I turned to squint at the clock. It was all a dream. This I find peculiar because I never dream. When I sleep I rarely get into REM sleep but I must have to dream this vividly. What remains to be answered is what it means.

Xcruciating pain

2008-12-02T21:09:00.004-06:00

I once broke my wrist bones and refused categorically to take pain meds. I dealt with the pain. I strained ligaments in my ankle and hobbled my way up the gangplank of a ship and through an airport with a heavy backpack. I didn't whimper then, but now I did something to my MCL and every time I climb into my car I scream in pain. When someone bumped into me at work I laughed with pain.

It is unbearable, nerve raking pain. I take my anti-inflammatory tabs and ice my knee when I get home but I almost feel like hacking the goddamn leg off. The doc asked me if I wanted pain meds and I resolutely refused, now I wish I had taken them. Turning in my sleep makes my nerves ring out the alarm bells.

How do these athletes do this? I swear if someone intentionally tackled me at a football game and caused this much pain I would probably hunt them down and cause them as much pain. Instead my dislocated patella and subsequently MCL injury was caused by testing out a MATTRESS. Yea, I know dumb but it happened. I just wish this doc would hurry up and see me and give me an answer as to how I am to survive and heal. Gosh, my body is giving up on me already.

Be kind to your body parts you never know what it means to function without it. I miss stretching my leg languorously while reading my books.

World's AIDS day

2008-12-01T21:40:00.005-06:00

December first marks the one day the world set aside for one of the deadliest epidemic; AIDS. I would like an opportunity to highlight a program that President Bush heralds as one of the success of his presidency Presidential Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief - commonly known as PEPFAR.

This program was launched in 2003 and its aim was to provide treatment to two million people (afflicted with HIV) in 15 focus countries. 13 out of the fifteen countries are in Africa.

....... In FY2007, PEPFAR-supported programs reached 57.6 million people with support for prevention of sexual transmission using the ABC approach (Abstain, Be faithful, correct and consistent use of Condoms). The U.S. Government (USG) has supplied nearly 1.9 billion condoms worldwide from 2004 through 2007 — as Dr. Peter Piot of UNAIDS has said, more than all other developed countries combined. From FY2004 through FY2007, PEPFAR has supported prevention of mother-to-child transmission (PMTCT) for women during more than 10 million pregnancies. For PMTCT clients who have been found to be HIV-positive, antiretroviral prophylaxis has been provided in over 827,000 pregnancies, preventing an estimated 157,000 infant HIV infections. With Emergency Plan support, focus countries have scaled up their safe blood programs, and 11 of them can now meet more than half of their annual demand for safe blood — up from just four when PEPFAR started.

PEPFAR has supported HIV counseling and testing for over 33 million people to date, and supported care for more than 6.6 million people infected or affected by HIV/AIDS, including 2.7 million orphans and vulnerable children. Through September 2007, PEPFAR partnerships have supported antiretroviral treatment (ART) for approximately 1.45 million men, women, and children — approximately 1.36 million of whom live in 15 PEPFAR focus countries, and over 1.33 million of whom are in sub-Saharan Africa. Illustrating the broader effect of treatment, PEPFAR treatment support is estimated to save nearly 3.2 million adult years of life through September 2009, and many more beyond that time frame. These additional years of life are ones in which people can play their vital roles as parents, teachers, or caregivers......... (PEPFAR)

It is common place for people to make fun of Bush's presidency but with an initiative that has such results I will give credit where credit is due. Whether this program will continue to flourish and help in easing the burden of many AIDS/HIV afflicted families in the Africa is yet to be seen, but for now it seem to be accomplishing what it set out to do.

We can all do our part to commemorate World's AIDS day by increasing awareness of this deadly virus. More so in our culture where it is taboo to talk about anything sexual. Many of our teenagers and adults practice unprotected sex cocooned in the firm belief that none of us could be a carrier of the virus. It is a childish assumption and instead of sticking our head in the sand pretending that sexual encounters don't happen in our circles, we should instead seek to spread the ABCs of AIDS; encouraging abstinence, being faithful, and using condoms, with abstinence as the only sure way to avoid the sexual transmission of HIV/AIDS.

Character flaws

2008-11-25T23:05:00.005-06:00

I have them so do you. I just have a problem with people pointing them out. I got irritated today because a couple of my friends teased me about my continuous habit of being tardy. Now, I know this character flaw exists in a fair number of Somalis but I try. I really do.

Needless to say I got very offended. I didn't think that my friends should pick on me especially when its something they know I am sensitive about. When I got home I turned all my clocks and watches another five minutes ahead knowing fully well its not going to make a difference.

My tardiness has just become the norm. At work my boss knows I am consistently eight minutes late.It is now a private joke between him and I. When we make plans for meetings outside work, my co-workers always ask me to be somewhere ten minutes ahead of everyone else thereby ensuring I get there on time.

I really just don't know what to do to improve on this character flaw. Help me ;(

**curling up doe eyed under her blanky***

One of the seven deadly sin

2008-11-24T21:03:00.004-06:00

Pride........vanity..........kujidai.

The other day I was listening to a couple people talking with my mother. I was struck with the way some of them were proud of murderers and killers. The topic of course of Somali's ongoing turmoil. I can't say I have an insightful lock on Somali culture but I am amazed by how certain illogical things become matters of pride.

For example, when a woman is beaten senseless by her husband, it becomes a matter of pride to hide this fact from others. I think the man should be placed in the public court for being inhuman to his spouse. The above example is not the reason why I had to pen my thoughts, so to speak. My chagrin comes from the Israf that people indulge in so that others might not know the true depth of their pocket book. Spending lavishly (willy nilly) when in reality they cannot afford what they are acquiring.

Personally, I have no problem owning up to the fact I am broke. I was out with my friend the other day shopping for jackets. I didn't need a jacket but I could have used one for a change of colors. As we flipped through racks and racks of jackets, I suddenly realized I am flat broke for the next couple months. This is largely due to paying rent and mortgage on a house that we haven't moved into yet. Finally, I turned to her and told her I can't afford these high prices for the jacket. I am content with my black one for now till I can afford it. She didn't back away from me like I had leprosy, she actually understood. Now if someone else in my family had been in my shoes they would have gone ahead and purchased a jacket just so as to keep appearances.

Does anyone else notice that about relatives or is this a problem that exists solely in my head?

Historic Moment

2008-11-04T23:29:00.002-06:00

Will you recall where you were tonight? I will.

Holding hands with my friends as we watched the numbers coming in. First came Pennsylvania then the most crucial Ohio, after that it was a rapid cataclysmic addition of electoral votes. My phone was going off the hook when CNN projected him the President Elect. President Elect BARACK OBAMA. I can't believe it still, its a shock, a pleasant one, but a shock nonetheless.

This is the America we believe in. One that saw past the color of someone's skin and elected the best candidate solely on issues. So maybe McCain's chances were hurt when he chose Sarah Palin but still I am so proud of being an American. So, so, so extremely proud of the young generation that rode the wave of change and believed in it. They believed in it so much that turn out for this demographic was record high.

Congrats President Barack Obama. I am proud to say I stood in the cold waiting to hear you speak when you came to Minnesota, not once but twice. I am proud to be alive to watch this most historic moment and I wish you the best as you take the reins of this country into your hand.

I believe in you. WE believe in you.

Its sprinkling books

2008-06-05T23:45:00.002-05:00

Within weeks of graduation I had devoured three books that probably altered what I thought of the world. I won't review the books because I think people should read it and come to their own conclusions.

The first book is HOW SOCCER EXPLAINS THE WORLD. This book uses soccer as a metaphor to explain globalization. Riveting facts about soccer in different countries and whats more you get a little bit of pol sci interspersed within the text that you barely notice it.

The second book is Ayan Hirsi Ali's book Infidel. The book was a gift from a friend who didn't know what Ayan's stigma in the world is. She just saw a Somali female writer and she thought I would like it. Her book documents her journey through most of her adult life. For the most part it provided insight on her views and how she came about it. It was also reinforced the first book's message of encroachment of liberal values on traditional societies and the fallout that occurs after the fact.

The last book is a book written by Quinn and its titled Ishmael. Ishmael is the name of a gorilla who telepathically teaches a human that life as we perceive it is mythological. It definitely changes the way you view the world and perhaps how you will act in the world.

I still have a stack of books left by my bedside that I am working through. I am looking forward to reading the new Naomi Klein book and ALL THE SHAH's MEN. If there are any books you feel will contribute to character building recommend them. Toodles.

Still breathing for another year

2008-03-18T11:31:00.006-05:00

Hello folks,

I have gotten a year older. Alhamdullilah! Since my trip I have noticed that I have a new outlook on life. It seems I needed the time away to access what I am doing. I have decided to balance my life as an adult and my life as a mommy. It seems to be working for the most part except I happen to also piss people off with my candid nature. Oh well, I can't win all the time.

Anyway I have been hanging out with my friends more. I go out every weekend to dinner or a play and seriously I think I have never been less stressed. This is my attempt to explain why I haven't been blogging so much. :(

I am still working through my pictures and footage from my Aussie/NZ trip and hopefully will get it in order one of these days. I still have to drop off my roll for my snorkeling trip to the Great Barrier Reef and see what goodies I shot underwater. Other than that trust me I got horrific and funny tales to share about the trip. I also want to give a shout out to my cousin for being a doll and not losing his patience with me whilst I was visiting. Bridget says hi too and says she enjoyed her visit. I also want to know how to return what I borrowed since it looks like you don't read your e-mail. (I hope this message gets to you via proper channels) :)

Spring is here! Get out and enjoy life.

Ps:- I am trying to figure out where to visit next. Japan and South America are my choices. If anyone got tips let a sister know.

Obama '08 and Feb 5th

2008-02-02T23:11:00.002-06:00

When Jess told me Obama was coming to Minneapolis on Saturday I was ecstatic. I was above the moon when she scored us tickets to the event. I had a prior engagement to go to in the morning and so did she but at half past noon I was on my way to pick her up. "Ten minutes left before the doors open. Hurry Leyla!" yelled Jess excitedly. We walked to the Target center discussing the different candidates and where they stood on issues. Jess was undecided but all I needed was reaffirmation. Target center had people everywhere. There were lines for waiting list people, lines for green tickets, lines for E ticket and gold tickets. The line snaked a mile long. Almost down to the I-94 exit for Olson Memorial Highway.

People stood in the cold stomping their feet trying to stay warm. There were people of all ages, from 1 year olds to 60 year olds. Talk about a change? This was an amazing sight to see. Minnesotans braved the cold to listen to Baraka Obama speak. 20, 000 people had gotten the tickets before hand while there were 10,000 more on the waiting list. The Target Center, which doesn't even fill up during a basketball game, was full to the top bleachers. Obama openers included Minneapolis Mayor R. T Rybeck, Keith Ellison and Lady Freeman. He spoke eloquently and talked about issues he believed in from veterans rights, college affordability, health care, war, foreign policy, poverty, economic issues. Baraka peppered his speech with comedic moments that made him seem like one of us.

Obama's father left the family when Obama was only two years old. His mother raised him while going to school and working. Obama recounted instances when he was on food stamps. Obama watched his mother die from cancer at the age of 52. He watched as his mother's face bore the worry lines from reading letters from insurance companies trying to deny her health reimbursement. I feel that he takes a lot of things that many Americans go through with him wherever he goes. He is young and inexperienced but maybe thats what America needs. A person who is untarnished and still idealistic.

For all the Americans who can vote in the upcoming November elections, remember Feb 5th is caucus day. From 6:30 pm -8:00 pm. Please go out and vote for the candidates of your choice. More Americans watched Superbowl than voted last election and thats a horrible statistic. We need to exercise our civil rights. So please find out your caucus center and go vote!

Persepolis

2008-02-01T13:28:00.001-06:00

Last night I went with a couple friends of mine to watch Persepolis. I normally don't go to movies in the middle of the week but I couldn't pass up a chance to watch a foreign movie at an independant theatre.

All I knew about this movie was that it was a girl's story during the Islamic revolution in Iran. I was not prepared to deal with a tragiccomedy that mirrored the life of my Iranian friend. Marjane Satrapi released a comic book in France in 2000. The movie was in french with English subtitles. Most of the scenes in the movie are memories of what she was told as a child and what she saw.

Marjane is a descendant of the royal emperor of Iran before the Shah's regime. She moves from being curious, idealist to depressed to realist. The profound thing for me was that at the beginning Marjane thinks she is a prophet and has personal conversations with God but after the desolutism she goes through she chases him away. At the end it is God who provides her salvation by sending her back when she has given up on life.The movie shows the relationships she makes and breaks. More than that it is a journey of self discovery for Marjane, whose parents are Marxists.

Scenes of her wearing hijab and "punk is not dead" jacket,walking the streets of Iran in search of banned music. Marjane rocks out to classic rock in her house as the country goes through a purging. Marjane watches as people around her change and die. Her uncle is imprisoned and requests to see her. Marjane braves this prison visit at such a tender age but what is told to her stays with her. Her relationship with her parents is unique and her grandmother is a character to say the least. Definately a must see movie and a must get when it is released. By the by the movie is banned in Iran.

Port Douglas-Down Under

2007-12-29T21:00:00.001-06:00

Hi Folks,

Wondering where I am at the moment? I am in Queensland, Australia. Port Douglas to be exact. Its hot and humid and my skin is so oily that I probably shine brighter than the ocean surface. Tommorrow I will be leaving for Melbourne and hopefully be out and about for New Years Eve.
Will write more and add pics as I get the opportunity. Toddles for now cause I have to get some lunch.

Love,

SleepDepraved

Let the Hype Begin

2007-10-29T12:34:00.000-05:00

The Playoffs haven't begun but here goes the media, and guess what? I will join them. This week is going to have the most interesting match-ups to watch:NE patriots vs Indianapolis Colts. I haven't had much chance to watch colts in action this season, mainly because I don't have any love for them. I have watched NE patriots though. This team has one of the best records in the NFL right now. They average about 44 points per game (my approximate) and haven't lost yet. Brady (QB) and his offensive line have stepped up their game and its showing. I am going to be sitting down to watch this game live cause it would be interesting to see what strategies the coaches use against each other. Rattle Brady, match up the weakest offensive with your best defense, remove the long plays from Peyton.............seriously there are great speculation as to what each team will use to dismantle its opponent. Personally I just want to enjoy good ol' football and don't fancy either team, but I wouldn't mind the Patriots coming out of this as victors. Did you see the Sunday game when they blew past their opponent with about 50+ point?

On the other hand whats with the Viks and not using Adrian Peterson? I wrote a post about him when he was in OU and was ecstatic when he got drafted by the Viks, but they are not utilizing this guy. He is absolutely greaaaaaaaaaaaaat. Why do the bench him on some plays? Everytime I see him on the sideline I get upset. Get it together Vikings!!! I want us to be in the playoffs this year. Please :)

Eugenics in the Media

2007-10-19T22:05:00.001-05:00

Of all people I would expect a comment underlying eugenics to come from, I was most shocked that it came from James Watson. Even if you have taken just general biology courses the name should light a bulb in your head. James Watson is the same guy who came up with the double helix structure. Let me not fail to mention that he did this in partnership with Crick. Anyway, the guy was on a book tour and he made a comment to Sunday Times stating he was

“inherently gloomy about the prospect of Africa” because “all our social policies are based on the fact that their intelligence is the same as ours - whereas all the testing says not really"

He is not the first scientist who has used science to support eugenics. A few years ago a book "the bell curve"was published that discussed intelligence and genetics. Its funny how people forget that the bed of civilization was never in the West but rather in the dark continent. How does race and genes translate to intelligence? Where is the proof in that? Doesn't the burden of proof lie on the one who opens their mouth? Why doesn't Watson and any other scientist out there provide duplicable proof that intelligence lies with the lightness of your skin? Absolutely disgusting that this great figure can say that but I am glad that they suspended him from his job. He needs time to reflect on his actions.

What was worse is that I asked on campus the day the news broke and no one knew what I was talking about. It further supports the fact that American students are not concerned with what happens globally or even nationally. Where are placards? The editorials? If this is the generation that is going to invoke a change then I am ashamed to be counted among its members. I don't even think I saw a statement by the NAACP in regards to the Watson comment. I guess no one cares huh?

The End is near.

2007-10-11T12:13:00.000-05:00

I am somehow here writing about the end of Ramadhan. Most of you will agree with me that it has flown by unnoticed. I noticed. This is the first Ramadhan that I have been tired and worn out. At times, even sujuuding during Taraweh seemed to frighten my knees. I am not sure if its age making its claim on my body or my body screaming that it needs nourishment. Alaayeta3al, its almost done right? Nope.

Last week as I looked at my calender, I started getting my ducks in a row. Eid was near and I had to get certain things done. Shopping was at the top of the list. Don't you hate shopping in crowds? I do, I detest it with a passion. This year I was going to do things differently. I took my sisters shopping 1 & 1/2 weeks before Eid. Just in time to get the new shipment of skirts and easy pickings. Each of them has three outfits and an abaya for prayers. Magda, the Egyptian abaya lady, knows me from my abayas. I don't get my abayas from her. Since going to Egypt I bought a ton of them plus I have a source who sends them to me once in a while. This year, she asked if I had my abaya ready and I said no.

She smiled and went on to talk with my sisters regarding who fasted the most. My youngest sibling won that contest and got a huge hug from Magda. I knew she was helping me in putting positive reinforcements that fasting is a wonderful thing to do as muslims, and I loved Magda for that. I looked left and right at the abayas and I knew at the mosque every somali would be donning one. I choose a couple for my siblings and talked some more about Egypt with Magda. She wanted the number of the English speaking taxi driver who drove me around while I was in Egypt (did I ever tell you guys that story?)

I promised to text her the number and went home laden with shopping bags. That night I got a call from my mother. She had somehow gotten from Somalia to the Middle East. Knowing my obsession with abayas, she asked me if I wanted some. I yelled with glee and the volume increased when she told me she had already sent them ahead. I thought, Alhadullilah one thing less to worry about.

Then I remembered about Zakatul Fitr. I had to pay it this year and I didn't know if I had to do it for my siblings too since I was the taking care of them now. As I was mulling this over, one of my siblings came in to talk to me (this sibling we lovingly call sheikha). I told her what I was worried about and she waved it off telling me that my dad had taken care of it. Huh? I remembered that my dad had called at the beginning of Ramadhan to let me know that he was going for Umrah. Apparently at the time he told my sister he had paid for all our Zakat including my mom. Yeah, another one bites the dust!

I took my days off from work and I will be family hopping, giving hugs to extended families, giving money to lil kids and kicking back this Eid. I am excited that I probably pulled off the least nerve racking Eid ever. Alls left to do is make deserts for the house and coordinate prayer transportation.

Eid Mubarak to everyone. Spend time with your family and kiss/hug them to bits.Finally, I hope you all gathered your blessing of Ramadhan and continue in the spirit.

2nd Part of Ramadhan

2007-09-29T11:43:00.000-05:00

Assalamu Aleikum Brothers and Sisters,

Did you know that Ramadhan is divided into three important parts. The first 1o days of Ramadhan bring Allah's mercy, the second 10 days bring Allah's forgiveness and the last 10 days bring emancipation from Hell fire. Since we are still within the last few days of the 2nd part of Ramadhan I wanted to explore the concept of forgiveness.

In the course of my life there are many things I have done. I am human and I err. I accept that flaw in myself for it is a human condition and we all suffer from it. A week ago I was discussing with my friend, the concept of forgiveness circulated among Muslims. Let me clarify this now, this concept seems to be prevalent in Muslims who have basic or general knowledge of Islam. Our discussion centered on the unforgiveables i.e shirk, zina and murder. This post will be an account of what was said and what I learnt from research.

One of Allah's attributes is Al-Ghaffar, The Forgiver. Why then when people talk of the unforgiveables most of them believe that these are acts that cannot be forgiven? Allah is the only one who knows what is forgiveable and what isn't. Furthermore he knows who he forgives and who he doesn't. Who are we to pass judgment on others by saying "So and so is going to hell." ? We are liking ourselves to knowing what Allah knows. One of my fondest hadeeths is one I kept bringing back in the discussion. In the hadeeth it is said that when a believer asks for forgiveness Allah comes running. That in my mind says that Allah will forgive anything as long as the repenter is sincere.

The requirements for forgiveness are simple. First, you have to be sincere in the intentions then, you give up and avoid the sin you are repenting. You are also supposed to regret the sin and sincerely resolve to not repeat it for Allah's sake and from the fear of punishment. Allah will turn your bad deeds into good deeds if following the repentance, the believer engages in righteous deed. The last condition is restoring people's rights and property if the sin involved wrongdoing unto others. All these conditions, it goes without saying, have to happen before death.

“The torment will be doubled to him on the Day of Resurrection, and he will abide therein in disgrace; Except those who repent and believe (in Islamic Monotheism), and do righteous deeds; for those, Allaah will change their sins into good deeds, and Allaah is Oft-Forgiving, Most Merciful” [al-Furqaan 25:69-70]

The best time to ask for repentance, according to Prophet Muhammad (PBUH), is during the last 1/3 of the night. Allah is said to be in the lowest part of heaven, "Who will call upon Me so that I may answer him? Who will ask Me so that I may give to him? Who will seek My forgiveness so that I may forgive him?’” (Narrated by Muslim, no. 758).

So my dear brothers and sisters, use this time (second part of Ramadhan) and ask for forgiveness because Allah is Oft-Forgiving and more so during this Holy Month. He alone knows what sincerity lies in our hearts when we beg for forgiveness. Inshallah may we be protected from any sins we commit and be forgiven for any we have commited. Amin.

Making Manda

2007-09-23T16:29:00.000-05:00

Ingredients:

4 cups of flour
4 tablespoons of oil
1 teaspoon of salt
2-3 cups of water

Procedure:

Add the dry ingredients together in a bowl. (i.e flour and salt)
Make a well in the middle and add the oil.
Slowly incorporate the water while kneading the dough to achieve a consistency of "rolling off your fingers."

Note: Do not feel you have to use all 2-3 cups of water. Exercise judgement!

Section the dough into balls.
Take each ball and roll it like a "chapati/sabayad"
Lubricating the top of the rolled out dough with oil (1-2 tablespoons) and a pinch of flour, stack another rolled out dough on top of it.
Keep stacking till you have five stacks of dough.
Roll out the stacked dough in a circular shape to fit the pan.
Heat up pan till its hot to the touch.
Lay the stacked dough on pan and watch for the dough to dry out. Careful not to let the dough brown.
Dry out the other side of the stacked dough and remove from heat.
Lay dough on counter top and cut dough into four quadrants of a circle.
Carefully separate each dough from stack and lay separate to air out.
Leave in bowl with towelette (to avoid drying) till ready to fold samosas.

Congratulations you have now made your own manda!

9/11

2007-09-11T15:41:00.000-05:00

Today is six years since the twin towers went down and we still don't know the complete truth about the events of 9/11, but what we do know are the events after 9/11. General Patreaus today faced his second day of questioning in Washington,DC. Off course there were the usual grilling by the presidential candidates declaring the Iraq surge as a "foreign policy disaster", if we were slanted to Mr Obama. Amidst all this I found it amusing that the puppet that is in charge of Iraq was shoved into the spotlight. Mr Al Maliki was tainted by talks of him siding with the shias and falling short of expectations to bringing the country back to its feet. He is also said to be getting cozy with Iran. Really? I don't see how picking someone from one sect of Islam to lead a country torn by a civil war was supposed to be successful. To add oil to an already heated situation, US decides to arm some Sunni leaders in hopes of driving a wedge between Al Qaeda and Sunni leaders in Iraq. They call this the "Anbar model" since it was professed to work in Anbar province.

What exactly is US playing at? This is just a repeat of history. Afghanistan was armed to fight against the Russian by the US not that long ago. After Russia was defeated, the Taliban took over and gave refuge to all sorts of short men with beards. When Saddam was fighting against Iran, who did the US give arms to? Then Saddam committed genocide against the Kurds to which US turned a blind eye. Whenever US gets involved in a conflict, it never turns out well for the civilians who live in those areas. Arming sunnis against shias and expecting them to come to the negotiating table is preposterous. History has shown that there is no love lost between these two sects especially since Shias have lived under the thumb of Saddam Hussein for decades.

Everyday, Iraq people live events just like 9/11. Everyday, they see loved ones die for no other reason other than hatred. There is nothing the US can do to right the wrongs they have committed in this region but they can start by leaving the country to its citizens. Iraq used to be a metropolitan city like others in the region and given time the citizens will rebuild it. Leaders in the Arab world and the Muslim world should take a more active role in the rebuilding of Iraq. A country that is unstable is never good for the region and hence it would be beneficial for them to ensure the security and rebuilding of this once great nation.

Bridge Collapse.

2007-08-02T12:54:00.000-05:00

Its been almost 18 hours since the freeway over the Mississippi river collapsed. I had just gotten off work at 6 pm and was making my way towards downtown Minneapolis when it happened. I was on 35W southbound and traffic was bumper to bumper when I decided to get off the East Hennepin Exit. No sooner had my car turned the corner when the first ambulance rushed by me sirens full blast. I found my way to University Ave hoping to cross over the 10th street bridge in a couple hops. Another ambulance rushed by me again this time I noticed it was a suburban ambulance. Traffic was bumper to bumper on University and I was getting antsy. I could almost see the BP sign over the cars but I knew it would be a wait. A firetruck barreled through the traffic wailing away as light flashed. Something was up. People seemed to be running towards the bridge next to the University Exit of 35W. The air was still except for the steady droning of helicopters. What are choppers doing out here? I tried to peer out my window as I snailed along the road. My heart lurched as I looked over the familiar hump that used to be 35W to the right of my car. There was nothing there. People were on their phones and all heading towards the site. I switched my radio to NPR and soon enough the broadcaster announced the collapse of the bridge. I could have been on that bridge if I hadn't gotten off at the exit before it. Reaching for my phone to call anyone, I noticed that none of my calls were going through. The airspace was clogged as another couple ambulances zoomed by me. The news pouring out of the radio was slow as preliminarily no one knew what happened. Pretty soon though the news was everywhere and there was talk of fatalities and about 50 cars being on the bridge at the time of collapse. That stretch of the freeway was under construction for the past month. What did they do to cause the collapse? Was it a terrorism act? Homeland security ruled that it wasn't a terrorist act. I got to my destination and sat in my car for a minute. I tried my cell again just as my sister's call came through. She frantically asked me if I was ok cause she said she saw my car in the river. I told her I was fine, I got off before the bridge. The rest of the evening I got calls from people who knew me and relatives wanting to make sure I was fine. I have to say I was impressed by the efficient way that the disaster was tackled by Minneapolis. Within an hour the police had to turn volunteers away. There were getting support from all corners of the metro from Roseville to St Paul. My sister works at HCMC Emergency Department and I knew it was going to be a rough night for her. 28-29 people were brought to HCMC, 30 to Fairview (closer to the site of the tragedy) and 9 to North Memorial. Most of the injuries seem to be fractures, head injuries, concurrent with a 40-60 ft drop. I am so proud of this city at the moment though I can't say I have much belief in their bridge system. Apparently there is talk that the bridge was deemed unsafe two years ago. I know lots of Somalis in the diaspora know one person or more who live in the Twin Cities, give them a call and make sure they are fine. There are two Somali males in HCMC at the moment who were on the bridge and there are still recovering bodies at site and will probably be doing so for a couple days. Pray for the souls of those who passed. Amin.

Youtube and politics

2007-07-29T22:34:00.000-05:00

When the democratic debate was first aired I was off running errands and I missed it. Today, I had a chance to catch a rerun of it. CNN picked a couple dozen youtube questions and posed them to the candidates. It was interesting to note that even with the new format the candidates still dodged the questions with the best of them and used their pre-prepared answers. Yea I am against the war and I have done this and that to forward my agenda. Obaka and Clinton who I thought would wow me bored me with their cookie cutter answers. I am not sure what the youtube questions were supposed to do. Maybe the context of where and by whom the questions were asked was supposed to shake the composed demeanor of the candidates? Alas, the candidates were not shaken they just found a way to talk in circles and still smile balefully at the camera. I was impressed by Edwards and the way he handled himself, he was a pleasant surprise. What about the question asking Clinton how she would handle herself with Arabic and Islamic states that view women as second class citizens. I didn't see any candidate trying to correct that thinking by stating its not an Islamic belief that women are second class. Benazir Bhutto was a Pakistani Prime Minister and a woman at that. The question was posed by a guy in the US army (stationed in Japan). Yea some Arabic states have an inferior view of women but that should be distinguished from Islamic beliefs. Misconceptions that were further reinforced by Clinton answering the question without correcting it. I was positively disgusted. 9/17 I believe is the Republicans chance to answer Youtube questions so if you have something to ask the Republican candidates post your Q's on Youtube. I would definitely like to see questions regarding immigration restrictions and patriotic act among others.

Bang Bang Bang!

2007-07-29T21:50:00.000-05:00

Everyone thought I had gone bonkers when I set out for my boss' farm in Wisconsin to go shooting. I had never shot a gun in my life, but for the past year I got interested in the sport. My boss offered to teach me if I wanted. Two weeks ago when I asked him when he was available for my first lesson he raised his eyebrows in surprise. Off course he had just called me an infidel to get a raise out of me, so maybe he was wary of my request. Anyway, Friday I stood on top of grassy knoll with a homemade target in-front of me. He walked me through gun safety till I automatically put the safety on everytime I stopped shotting and never had my finger on the trigger. My first shot was 2 & 1/2 inches from the center of my target. My hand shook as I steadied the .22 against my shoulder. The gunpowder smell wafted off from the opening where the spent shell popped out. My heart was beating frenziedly and my palms felt wet against the rifle butt. The next 14 shots were off the mark as I got more nervous. He reloaded the gun and told me to breath out as I squeezed the trigger. For the next 30 mins he coached me on targeting and as I got better with the home-made target, he moved me up to skeets. After a couple times missing the skeet entirely, he brought out the sig sauer. He walked me through loading the clip and placing my hands around it. He mentioned the fact it had a recoil that might throw me off but till I shot it I didn't realize how strong of a recoil he was talking about. My hand jerked back almost close to my face and my nervousness returned. I went through a couple rounds with the sig but it felt bulky in my tiny hands and I seemed to shoot lower than the target. I went back to the .22 and this time I shot the skeet accurately and my coach praised my good shot. For the next 20 mins we basically traded shots, him with the sig and I with the .22 . I got to say that I can see why people love shooting. It will take me a while to go to another practice trip but I definitely think I will be doing it till I get good at it. Why? I am not planning to be in a safe environment .i.e US after I graduate. Since, Inshallah I will be going back to Africa I want to be able to protect myself if I feel threatened. Idealistically, the situation should never arise but its better to be safe than sorry. I didn't like the feel of the sig but I could see myself with a walther PPK. Happy Shooting.

Shady Business Practices

2007-07-25T10:52:00.000-05:00

I have a bug in my bonnet the last couple days and its over shady business practices. I decided I was going to write about my experience with this business as a warning for those who live in the Midwest area. It is a Somali owned travel agency. It is located in downtown Minneapolis around 9th street. My first brush with them was through a cousin of mine. We were catching up about life and I asked him when his wife was coming back to the US. At once he got angry and started about a travel agent he used to get his wife a round trip ticket from US to Kenya and back. On the day of her return flight, she was informed at the airport that there was no booking for her ticket. She had three days to get back before school opens for her children and her vacation time ran out. It was summer and most of the flights were booked solid. My poor cousin was livid to hear that the travel agency had taken payment from him but had not bothered to pay for the return portion of the ticket. Apparently they put a hold on a ticket and print out the itinerary for you. This hold is valid for a couple days I think and you leave thinking that you have everything sorted out. They don't make the payment in time and the ticket gets dropped and they have to scramble to find you another ticket. I sympathized with him because he spent his nights online looking for a return ticket for his wife.

Winter came and I had completely forgotten about my cousin and the travel agency. I got the opportunity to fly to visit my great grandma and grandma. I was so excited. My friend in North Carolina recommended his brother in Rochester. He was doing me a favor and hooking me up with what he thought would be a pleasant experience. I am all for putting money back in our community and making it flourish. I rarely eat at other places other than Arabic/Indian/Somali/Mexican, but I digress. Long story short I got shuffled from Rochester to Al-Amin travel in Minneapolis. I was on my wits end by that time because I had been given an itinerary four diff times. The trip was to be paid for by mom's business. At first they said fine and came by and took a photocopy of the card plus the ID of the business manager. Two days later they call me and say that Northwest don't take third party credit cards for passengers. What? Thats unlikely because I have bought tickets for people before and I never had a problem. So I called Northwest and they confirmed that if they didn't take third party credit cards they would have a hard time with parents shuffling the kids back for Christmas breaks and stuff. I called them back and told them what Northwest said, there was a mumble and then the stubborn somaliness reared its head. Before I lost my temper, I just asked him how much the ticket went up since this whole thing started. From $1600 to $2100. I bit back a curse that was fighting its way up my throat. I told him I would be by to pick up my tickets and would bring cash. Nearly in tears due to frustrations, I called my cousin and while he calmed me down he listened to me. He asked me the agency's name and I told him. I laughed! "Didn't I tell you my experience and here you are doing the same thing." I was confused at first then I remembered his problem last summer. I could have hit my head on the steering wheel. There was nothing to do now, because there ere less weeks left in my vacation and my grand-ma was waiting. I got the cash and went to the agency. Hands akimbo, I asked him to verify every flight of mine right then and there. For the international flight I got paper tickets for departure but not arrival. He explained that on my flight back Kenya Airway will provide the return tickets. I gave him my "I don't take BS and if you screw me over, you wish you had died" look. Leaning over the table and place my fingers on them, I told him I didn't want to have problems on my way back otherwise they will have more than they have bargained for. He got up and went to get me the tickets only to come back to say the printer is broken and can I come back later to pick them up. Do I look like I don't have anything better to do? Can you drop them off at my moms? Sure. I had barely taken two steps outside when my cell rang and my mom was pissed cause I used this travel agency when I could have used hers. I told her I didn't have any control they shuffled me from Rochester to here. She said she ran into the owner and he told her about me and my flight times.

Fast forward now. My brother in law is in the same predicament. I really could care less but its my sister who is suffering. He is supposed to be back from Somalia yesterday but they screwed up his tickets. I called the agency to ask them if there was something they could do. The guy was rude to me purporting that he couldn't divulge any passenger information to me. I wasn't asking for his stupid information. You have him on leash and you seem to be playing games. You are upsetting my sister and in turn in upsets me. If she calls you is there any way you can help her? The same stupid answer. He knew who I was. He knew who I was calling about. Something sparked in my memory. I remembered how my mom found out I was using his travel agency. "You didn't seem to be so concerned about that when you told my mom about my flights last winter.How come the double standard?" He kept silent then told me if I have a problem to call my brother in law. By that time I was seeing red. My sister keeps asking me everyday if there is something I can do. That in it of itself is another drama but all experiences with this agency seem to reinforce the idea that some people are not there to provide a service for their community but rather are there to take advantage of them. I asked around and there are many bad things said about their business practices yet I have never seen a review against them. They have the perfect location to look decent and legit but there is no doubt in my mind that this is a shady operation at best. I am sure if Northwest knew they said that about their business they would have something to say about that. Don't let this happen to you. I have decided when it comes to traveling I am sticking to my online sources.

The End of HP

2007-07-25T10:33:00.000-05:00

I finally emerged from under the covers of my copy of Harry Potter yesterday morning. I was wondering when I will be done with the book since I never got any luxury time during the whole weekend. I passed the book to my younger sister and she seems to have burrowed her head deeper than I did in the book. Anyway unlike many Harry Potter fans I read two versions of the Deathly Hallows and I dare say I like the unreleased version. My theory is that it was leaked from the publishers while it was going through its first edit. My proof? Parenthesized notes under certain chapters with the suggestions.

The first edit seems to be more action packed than the book itself. Harry seems to be a rogue and it worked on him and he also displayed human-like qualities like finally letting Ginny into his life instead of playing the noble prat. The order of the Phoenix weren't killed in obscure deaths either but were given the spotlight when their time came and finally Harry was the one who killed Snape (deservedly so). Anyway, I told my friend I would print her a couple pages and if she was interested she can read this book too. The night of the book release I went with her to Barnes and Noble at midnight, her to pick up her reserved copy and I just needed some coffee and an excuse to get out of my house. I couldn't believe the place was that packed. The people who had reserved their books had to get wrist bands and wait for some guy standing on a table with a bull horn to call their number out. The others who didn't reserve books had to wait until the first batch had gotten their books. I drank my coffee bemused at this whole circus knowing I will pick up my reserved copy sometime in the afternoon tomorrow when the rush had died down. Needless to say I met and saw some characters while I waited for my friend to get her book. When #447 was called I sighed with relief and walked toward the exit, my friend clutching her book to her chest like it would run away.

Potter Mania.

2007-07-12T22:40:00.001-05:00

I confess I am a POTTER HEAD. July 11th has been marked on my calender for close to a year and sure enough on July 9th I was weighing options on if I should buy my tickets early. I worked during the day and at 5:30pm I was on pins and needles. I picked up my cuzs and a friend as we drove to the IMAX theatre in AppleValley. We got there an hour early and as we approached the entrance I noticed a sign posted "SOLD OUT". My mouth agape, I turned to my friend and admonished her for considering me daft when I suggested to buy tickets on Monday. We drove back towards our regular movie house and got into a show that was pretty much packed with adults rather than kids. The movie was brilliant I tell ya! It started out slow but it got exciting as my butt got numb. Definitely go check it out at your local movie house and bring the kiddies with you if you feel self conscious. Next Saturday the last book comes out. I will Inshallah be posting my version of the last page which is professed to be 300 words long and ending with the word scar. If you are a POTTER HEAD, join me in welcoming the finale the HARRY POTTER by taking the challenge. Write your version of the last page of the HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY GALLOWS, leave a message on my page and I will be thrilled to read it.

4th July

2007-07-08T20:08:00.000-05:00

So 4th of July was preplanned for me. I had errands to run in the morning and in the evening I was going to take the kids to Valleyfair. Its sort of a ritual for me because I get to spend some time with them without getting a sore voice. Last year I forewent the ritual because a week later I was taking them to Six Flags. Anywho, the gang and I pack lunch and drinks for the trip. I took my camera cause my cuzs from Sweden were visiting and I wanted to chronicle their time in the US. Since its been a couple years, I didn't have a clear picture of what I would see, but nothing could prepare me for that day. From the ticket booth to inside the park I saw a bunch of loitering somalis. Young boys who did nothing but stare at people entering. They even tried to hustle me by offering me a discount for a bit of money. Next was the amount of young girls walking around in skimpy outfits with guys hanging on their arms. A decade ago when I moved to MN, I went to valleyfair annually. The atmosphere was different then. You saw proper young ladies with their family dressed decently. Now, instead of family it was boyfriends. As I was standing in line with my siblings, I looked across the queue and noticed a group of rowdy somali guys and girls. Next to us were two African American women. They looked at the group then looked at us, then back at the loud talking group. One of them started a sentence, "I thought they were supposed to be dressed **mumble mumble**." She had noticed me looking at her. She smiled at me and turned towards her friend. I could feel my face getting red but I wasn't entirely sure if I was mad at the group of somalis or at the expectation to be the same.

I normally don't care what other do or wear but lately I get irritated at the direction our youth seems to be taking. I have to check my sister's attire as they step out the door. No jeans , no revealing, plunging neckline and no tight clothing. Is decency a lost art or am I old fashioned? Whatever the case, I have gotten into the habit of keeping my siblings away from the "dhocil" generation and I would rather they stay home and keep each other company!

Progression into Depression

2007-07-04T03:52:00.000-05:00

Priya stood by the glassy lake and watched her breath cloud up into the air. There was no wind tonight and the moon was non-existent, casting the surroundings in shadows. For a stranger this scene would be foreboding, but for Priya it was comforting. She knelt down by the lake's edge and touched its chilly surface with her fingers. Her eyes followed the ripples as they extended outwards. The circles got bigger and bigger till they disappeared into the blackness of the night. Priya wasn't here by choice, at least not by personal choice. She was here because circumstances mitigated by fate lead her here. It lead her to the scene of the suicide. She recalled the red rimmed eyes and the hiccupy cries. She recalled the hastened footfalls and the whispered nuances. She recalled the cold, soft sheets and the stark walls, but most of all she recalled the heartache and the pain. Priya reached into her back-pack and drew out an object. Her long fingers caressed it as she hummed a tune. It was eerie considering the time of night but Priya knew she was alone. She nimbly stepped into the lake, shocking her body with the cold temperature. The water made its way up her body as she progressed towards the center of the lake. The water lapped at her thighs, then her hands, then her waist and slowly reached her chest. Priya started gasping for air. The cold was slowly seeping into her body and then the tremors begun. She had to be careful. Priya looked around her surroundings. Yes, this was the place. She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer. She lifted the object unto the surface of the lake and laid it there to float. It was beautiful. Its pristine hue contrasted sharply with the black surface of the lake. This was the day and the place of her death, and Priya's heart grieved once more for her best friend, Sonia. Priya turned around to head for shore and as her feet found the gravel, she turned back to watch the white rose bob in and out of the water.

Comfort Creature

2007-06-27T23:00:00.000-05:00

For the past five years I have been looking for shoes that don't make my feet ache. I don't have a cushy job where I sit on my butt all day (no offence). Working in the hospital and in the pharmacy, I tried every kind of shoe to get rid of the discomfort. I even tried Dr. Scholls inserts but they give temporary relief. This cute shoe on the right seems to have great reviews. Apparently with the weird looking coil at the heel it doesn't hurt as much to be on your feet. I wonder how much they cost? There are only three stores that sell it in mn and the closest is on France Ave. So as soon as I can get myself down there and purchase a pair, I will definately let y'all know if my feet have found a match. The shoe is known as Z-coil. Lonesome dreamer made me think about shoes when she discussed scrubs in her blog. Working in the healthfield, I feel I have to be comfortable in order to give proper care. If my scrubs make me feel constricted and my feet hurt, I won't pay much attention to the patients. So, anything that make me comfortable makes my job easier and mood cheerier.

A change is as good as a rest

2007-06-26T22:16:00.000-05:00

As you can tell, I finally got around to changing my template. I have gone through three templates in the last two days but finally decided to stick with this one. I am still not completely satisfied with it, particularly the font. Xml with CSS needs a little getting used to, so as I learn you will notice little changes here and there. Speaking of which, expect some changes with Somaliblogs too. Lots of exciting new things in the works. Keep an eye out!

All that glitters is not gold

2007-06-10T00:16:00.000-05:00

Semana pasado the G8 summit commenced in Germany. Personally I don't care much for this international body but then again I have much disdain for any international body these days. Not many people know of an initiative implemented by a couple of international bodies;IMF and World Bank. The initiative's goal is to provide debt relief in Heavily In-debt Poor Countries (HIPC) aka reduce poverty to sustainable levels. What exactly is a sustainable level of poverty? A level of poverty that is fine to live with. I am sorry but there is no level of poverty that is fine to live with. The HIPC initiative gives debt relief to countries that meet a certain criteria provided that they implement some social programs that IMF and World Bank think should be priority. In other words a couple big wigs in a developed country sit down and map out what exactly is the problem in the African country they will give debt relief to, then they attach these conditions to the debt relief. Where exactly do they get off telling us they know our problems better than we do? Countries could use the extra money to increase quality of the agricultural products for export thus generating more revenue or how about building factories thereby increase productivity in the country.

Instead most of the programs are geared to be social services to meet the needs of the poor. But what exactly is a school building good for without teachers and books? A new hospital without qualified staff? What good is debt relief if the infrastructure to strengthen the countries' economy is relegated to the back burners? When you walk into a local grocery store and all you see is imported wares and nothing from your country? Africa is like a hamster in a cage, running on a wheel that is ever turning but the scenery never changes. I think its time to step back from the wheel and take a realistic look at our disproportional poverty levels, and come up with an idea that will help Africans and not make them forever beggars of alms from the developed countries. HIPC; a doomed initiative which many say leave African countries more impoverished than before.

NBA finals

2007-06-05T23:07:00.000-05:00

Alright , alright! So Pistons didn't make it to the finals. I had a couple gloating phone calls from my friends to rub salt on the wounds last Saturday. I am inclined to blame someone for Pistons failure to live up to their potential and that someone is Flip Saunders. He used to coach Minnesota Timberwolves before his move to Detroit and I got to say I was never impressed with him before nor am I impressed now. During the series against Cavs, this coach seemed to be drawing up a game plan that did not correspond with the opponent he was facing. In game 3 & 4 he never double teamed Lebron even though he was explosive especially in the fourth quater. Let me not even start on how mad I got with the calls Flip made during the double OT.Hughes is not a polished pointguard nor do I understand why he even gets minutes on the court, so Mr Big shot should have been able to capitalize on that match-up but no he had to lose his game somewhere during the series. After watching game 3 & 4 I saw there was no way Pistons were going to the finals and I can see why Rasheed lost his cool when game 6 came around.

The final starts Thursday and the Spurs of course made it after playing dirty against Suns and beating them, then polishing off the Utah Jazz. Cav versus Spurs finals seems to be an either/or game. EITHER Spurs are going to systematically and methodically wear out the Cavs OR the Cavs are going to surprise the country by getting rid of the monopolized NBA championship of the SA spurs. I rather hope for the latter but that could entirely be due to my dislike for the Spurs.

Till next time when I post about the championship!

US's position when it comes to science

2007-06-05T22:35:00.000-05:00

The last couple days I have come to a realization that US is lagging behind when it comes to science. I don't necessarily think its due to lack of brain power in the science field, but rather its due to the constraints that the government puts on science. Most of the greatest science minds are moving to the European continent because of its laxity in controlling the science field. Most notably, the stem cell research field. I was watching news today and saw that by implanting a cell in the retina, a man in Britain was able to regain his eyesight (blindness caused by old age). The other news bit that got me thinking about science in the US, was one about a deal between NHS and a drug company. The makers of Velcade (a cancer drug used to treat myeloma) will refund NHS money if their drug does not work on the patient. The drug costs about 18,000 pounds per patient. I think this is a lesson worth learning. In the US 65% of the population do not have health care and more than 65% cannot afford the drugs mainly because drug companies manipulate the market prices to maximize profit.

While I am on the drug companies case, Pfizer is getting sued by the Nigerian government for conducting test on children. The study used a drug called Trovan to treat meningitis in children. Nigerian government reports that come children died due to participation in the study. Pfizer of course denies the accusation. Africa is a dumping ground for expired drugs for these companies and now they have figured out another way to exploit Africans. By giving free drugs they get unassuming candidates for their drug studies. In the developed countries it is hard to test drugs on patients without having the FDA all over the paperwork, but who policies the continent of Africa? Our leaders don't have our interest at heart as long as their pockets are lined. I am sure as soon as some money is spread around this whole suit will dissipate into the thin air.

The Sun is blazing.

2007-05-03T12:22:00.000-05:00

As you can tell I am not about to talk about the weather. After tonite the stage will be set for probably the most thrilling games in the playoffs this year. Chicago Bulls swept their series against D. Wade and O'Neal. Pistons and Cavs also swept their series against Orlando Magic and Wizards respectively. The next match-ups are going to be Suns against San Antonio Spurs. I am so excited about this particular series because the last time the Spurs met Suns in the playoffs, the Suns didn't have Mr Amare S. The dominating figure (on the right side of Shawn Marion in the picture) is a presence to contend with. He will rival Tim Duncan under the rims. Steve Nash/Barbosa combo have to face Ginobli/Parker on the offence. This year these two teams seem to be evenly match and that is why this is a non miss series for basketball lovers. Both teams have the ability to attack in the paint area and also perimeter shooting. So far I have taped all the games these playoffs and watched them after work and classes. I am going to be making it a point to be sitting on the couch when these games are on though.

The next matchup I am salivating for is the Bulls-Pistons series. Ben Wallace who won defensive player of the year when he played for the Pistons is now on the opposite team facing the Pistons. Billups has a younger team to contend with but Billups has experience in his favor. Ben Gordon/Nocioni/Deng are quick with the ball and move the ball around just like the Pistons do. After the Pistons won the championship in 2004, many teams in the NBA started preaching about teamwork and being unselfish with the ball. Bulls seem to have taken that mentality to heart. I love both teams but my loyality lies with Pistons, though I will secretly be cheering for Ben Gordon and crew.

Cavs get to play with the winners of the Nets-Raptors series (3-1) and tonite the world gets to know which two teams will square off against each other in Western Conference. Rockets is leading its series against Jazz by a game and so does Warriors against Mavs. I am looking for Warriors to close out the series tonite if they can get their emotion in check and they learn appropriate ball handling. Davis needs to be able to use the clock to his advantage. It was the most dumbest play I saw in the last game. Warriors was up and instead of using the clock to his advantage Davis got a stupid foul and fouled out, giving Nowitzki a chance to find his game during clutch time. Facing elimination, Nowitzki, who has been struggling in this series, discovered a way around the Warriors defense. He was able to shot before the double team shut him out and the last few minutes of the game he was able to make a couple of game changing three pointers. Warriors have a task ahead of them to try to knock out the #1 seed in Western Conference. Harrington, Davis, Jackson, Richardson and Ellis have to find a way to stop the Mavs from leaving Oakland with a W.

I will try to keep the blog updated with more analysis as the finals draw near. It was sad to see AI leave the series but the guy dribbles too darn much. He either needs to shot or pass the ball to Melo. I was happy to see the Laker eliminated and D-Wade too. I have no love for James Posey and Haslem. They both get on my last nerves. Keep watching the NBA playoffs and wear the colors of your teams as you yell on your couch.

Ps:- if Suns make it into the finals, I will try to convince my roomate to get me tickets and instead of her coming to Minnehopeless, I will fly to Arizona just to cheer on the Suns.

News from the world.

2007-05-03T11:18:00.001-05:00

Who is on the receiving end of the Isreali community these days? Who else but Ehud Olmert. People are calling for his resignation from office due to his inefficent tactics during the 2006 Lebanon War. Apparently after destroying the infrastructure of Lebanon in a matter of days, the Isrealis are not satisfied with Olmert. He was supposed to annihilate Hezbollah and bring back the two Isreali captives. He didn't do that now did he? Instead he caused a lot of death and destroyed a small country that was just starting to emerge from decades of war. The public polls show that his popularity is on the decline since the Lebanon War. His own deputy is calling for his resignation. Its only been a year since Olmert won the elections and the country seems to be at polar opposites on the issue of re-election. Livni (the deputy) might have her work cut out for her, that is if she doesn't get replaced.

On the US side of the world, I got to be say I am not suprised by the turnout of the immigration demonstration in Los Angeles. LAPD seem to be carving out a reputation for themselves as anti-immigrant. The LAPD attack on the demostrators is another showcase of violence tendacies within the police force. 240 rounds of bullets and no arrest, are you kidding me? The footage itself is disturbing. It reminded me of the days of GSU or FFU as they are better known in Kenya. During the times of unrest, the Kenyan government would let loose these bullies on citizens. They were effective in scaring the S-H-I-T out of you. I bet y'all wondering why I am harping on this. I think it will set a precendant for other police departments to follow suit. I would definately like to see what happens when the Police Commissioner gets a couple names. It probably be a hush thing with a couple scape goats selected. This violence is a tumor that might grow out of control. LA is a beautiful city that is infused with many cultures from around the world not to mention it is the port of entry for most immigrants. If the tumor starts there then there is no hope for the rest of continental US. Watch footage

Now my corner of the world; drugs. FDA asks antidepressants manufactures to broaden their black box warning to include ages 18-24. During the initial months of treatment (antidepressant), there is a notable increase in suicidal thoughts in young adults and children. The companies have been given 30 days to resubmit their package labels. This would practically affect the entire class of antidepressants i.e SSRI (Selective Seratonin Reuptake Inhibitors). Let me put this in perspective, nearly 15 million people in the US take antidepressant each month. Even a fraction of those folks having suicidal thoughts is scary, especially if the trend shows that it affects only the children & young adults (the future generations).

Watching the DunKan and lil dreams coming true.

2007-04-14T00:07:00.000-05:00

I am a big sports nerd that has been in hibernation. Last year I had post after post following the NCAA and the NBA but this year nada/zilch/zippo. On Wednesday as I sat down to map out the month ahead, I noted that the NBA playoffs are due to begin on the 21st. Silly rabbit, where has my head been? I had to take action. Most teams had already clinched their positions and that didn't really interest me as much as my teams being above .500

Back to my tale, last night as I watching highlights I made a plea for anyone to get me a ticket to go watch San Antonio Spurs and T Wolves play. Lo and behold my sis calls me this morning as I was sitting outside my espanol class.

Hola?
Eh?
Mi hermana! Como estas?
Nayaa.......I got ticket master on the other line. What seats you want for the game?
Que?
The game.
Spurs vs T Wolves?
Yep.
Any tickets. Is you serious? I was joking noh.
Well do you want them then?
Si! Si! Mucho gracias.

My sis got me and my bro tickets to watch Tim Duncan live. I mean Manu Ginobli was right infront of my eyes and so was Ricky Davis, Tony Parker, Mike James. Only dude missing was KG. I had a blast. I was feeling odd sitting in the arena with my hijab on but after the game started and I went into my fanatic mood, I forgot my discomfort. My lil brother enjoyed it too and if it weren't for his forgetfulness, I would have images of sweat drenched 6 ft men to compliment my tale. Suffice it to say...........Muy caliente!!! Next time, I will try to actually get courtside seats so I can perhaps have the ball hit my face or maybe have one of the players land on my lap ;) (I can dream can't I?)

Oh yes another pleasant dream coming true. A friend of mine is traveling to Japan in a couple weeks. Since its a fantasy of mine to go there, I was green with envy. When I went to Egypt I had bought this friend a necklace made from pure silver as a gift. He felt he has to get me something and being the gentleman that he is, he wanted to make sure he gets me something I want. So, when asked, I said "Kimono please!" (Pause) "What color?" (mulling) "Black/White/Red........nothing whorish" (MmmKay). So there ladies and gents I got a couple of dreams realized in a matter of hours. Summer is here, playoffs are about to begin and life just started looking good.

Ps:- I got the itch for a makeover too, so watch this spot for drastic changes come May. Oh and mom is out of Somalia and in Kenya and IA will be home in a week (I hope).

Image courtesy of Kimonoan.com

Cooks and Kids

2007-04-06T22:48:00.000-05:00

For shame. I haven't bothered with this corner of my world for while. I needed to come back and spruce things up a bit. Clean out the cobwebs, dust the shelves and whats more be inviting. I have become a full fledged momma now. I have embraced the fact my children will be my siblings and their kids. I have also embraced the fact that I might not ever get to bear my own children. Pessimistic as it may sound, its what proves to be my cross to bear. I was talking to my cousin brother the other day; see he feels he needs to talk to me to reassure himself that I am within my full mental faculties. He asked me how my children were, and I politely told him to piss off, my children haven't been born. Then we talked some more, in which time he spoke of how I do what most women and half the men can't do. As a final note he told me that the probability of a man to actually take me as a wife and therefore sign his life to bear my burdens would be slim. Por que? you may ask. Simply put my cuz told me I have too much baggage for a man to want to be with me. The nerve! I chided him that perhaps men weren't made as they used to be anymore. Touche!

Anyway, back to my spring cleaning. My mom is somewhere in Somalia at the moment. I fret over her. I am not sure how she is some days. My friends and family call to tell me news from Somalia everyday. Their concern for my mother and her well being is touching but at times I just wish they would keep their news to themselves. I also worry about my nephews living there. I plead with my mom when she calls to find them and return them back to the US but she adamantly refuses, citing that its unsafe for her to go to the enemies camp. With these thoughts in my head I had some extra time on Wednesday afternoon between work and school. All this energy and nowhere to channel them. I tried reading but no go, so I did the next best thing. I walked into the kitchen. I haven't cooked for weeks due to my schedule. I looked in the refrigerator and found some tilapia, coconut milk, tamarind and vegetables. I usually don't have a specific meal planned out, I go with my instincts. I boiled some water & dumped fettuccine in there. I chopped some tomatoes, marinated the tilapia in a sweet/spicy concoction I make and soaked my tamarind. Slowly my meal took shape. I ended up making fettuccine pasta, honey glazed tilapia, grilled potatoes with green/red peppers and raisins, mchuzi wa samaki wa kupaka and coleslaw salad with my own dressing. I spent an hour and half in the kitchen and when I was done I felt accomplished. My children were about to come home from school. I had just enough time to clean the kitchen and lay the table. Then my phone rung, It was one of my kids wanting a ride. I was back to the chaos that is my life and my couple hours as an accomplished chef was a dissipating dream quickly fading.

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How much is too much?

2007-03-24T22:23:00.000-05:00

In the midst of all the focus Muslims seem to be getting from the media, an article went by unnoticed. While Muslims in Minnesota argue about scanning pork products and alcohols in taxis a bigger catastrophe looms close and aims to strike right at the very heart of the Muslims ummah worldwide. Two pillars of Islam rest squarely on this site. As Muslims we turn our face towards it five times a day and as Muslims we are obligated to try to go there for pilgrimage at least once in our lifetime (if its within our means). This holy site that dates from Prophet Ibrahim is being desecrated and turned into a commercial zone. This place, where all Muslims stand equal is going to have gated communities and Starbucks a few feet away from the entrance. So, where does that leave us?

I tell you where it leaves us. Its leaves us up a creek with no paddle. A stinging slap to our face. As we battle on other fronts, our very own sticks a dagger into our back. Commercialism at its best, its infiltrated even the most remote and holiest of all cities. Yet, here is the kick in the gut, not a creature stirs within the masses. Its passed unnoticed as we marvel at the march of progress and at the convenience of our guilty pleasures even in Makkah. The price for a piece of this real estate pie starts off at a "modest" $ 3 million. So what you going to do about it?

What do you do when you are uncertain?

2007-03-15T11:27:00.000-05:00

I am not sure where to begin. Its been a weird beginning of the year so far. I am uncertain about many things because of the way events have unfolded. First my sister crashed my car. Then, I got in an accident. Then, a friend's car got taken for a joy ride for a couple hours (when we presumed it was stolen), then my mom's cell was lifted from her restraunt while she was standing there, then my newphew got diagnosed with cancer, then one of the relatives I went to visit in Kenya died, then a friend of my mother died in a car crash while going home, then a co-worker's father had to have surgery cause bacteria got into their blood stream from their kidney stones, another friend's father became depressed and ran away from home and finally another friend quit school because she couldn't even afford to eat food anymore.In a span of 3 months, there have been icky news after icky news.

I turned 24 two weeks ago and more than ever I am uncertain. So what do you do when you are uncertain? This thought resonated within me when I heard the man utter it on stage. It was an assigment I had to do for a class but yet I felt I was destined to hear this. He spoke of how a sailor uses the stars to tell where he is, but what if while journeying the clouds cover the stars? Is the sailor on the right path? Did he veer of it or did he imagine the stars in the first place? I was riveted to my seat for the rest of the play waiting to find the answer to the question posed but sadly at the end of the play I was left with more questions. So I ask you, what do you do when you are uncertain?

When in Rome..........

2007-02-17T16:17:00.000-06:00

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"Achoo! Achoo!" went I. My eyes were watering and my nose had a tinge of red from all the tissue friction. I looked over to my companion, Hassan. He was my assigned protector in Kenya. Back when I used to attend primary school he used to drive us to and from school amidst taking my mom wherever she wanted. I remembered him thinner than he was but then again I had gained some weight myself since he last saw me. I turned my attention to the window. It was about 5 pm in the evening and I was on my way to Isiolo. This was a town that would best be explained as a frontier between the lands of Somalis and Kenyans. Most of the inhabitants were a mixture of Borana, Somali and Merus. Last time I had being there I was about ten. I remembered being able to count the number of stone built houses on my two hands.

My breath misted on the window as I peered through the glass to gaze at the lush green countryside. My fingers itched as I fought the urge to grab my camera and click away. I had missed this land. My motherland. The smells, the sights, the people. I had missed every iota of it. I was bone tired but in this land I knew rest was just a heartbeat away, rest was in the folds of my grandmother and great aunt. My eyelids slowly dropped shut as fatigue overcame my awe. I awoke with a start when I felt my head on someones chest. I looked sleepily up and saw it was Hassan who had placed my head on his chest instead of the cold, clattering window. I went back to sleep. An hour later he gently placed his hand on my shoulder to wake me. I asked him if we were there yet and he told me we had come into town but wouldn't get off at the bus stop instead we had to get off somewhere else. I gasped. It was pitch dark outside. I had three heavy bags not including my backpack plus Hassan had told me he didn't know the way to great grandma's house. He chuckled at my shock and reassured me that someone will meet us. The bus pulled over after five minutes and I clambered out. It was cold as far as Africa was concerned but it was fine for me. After Hassan had gotten my luggage out, we stood next to each other staring into the darkness waiting for someone to turn up. I noticed Hassan clutching his arms to his chest and offered him my winter coat. He thought it weird but I told him the weather was fine for me since I spend at least three months in snow up in Minnesota anyway. A few minutes later I saw a tall, lanky figure walking purposefully towards us. I held my breath as I watched the figure draw near. 15 ft, 12 ft, 10 ft..................Feeeeeei! I screamed.

Feisal, my uncle laughed loudly at my recognition. He grabbed my bags and motioned us towards a taxi. I asked him a couple questions about his kids and wife, about grandma and great grandma. After that I kept quiet as Hassan and him caught up on the non specifics of life. The taxi screeched to a halt infront of a corrugated sheet posing as a gate. Between the gate and the street lay a two feet ditch. I watched as my bags were hurled across and grew apprehensive. Hiking up my abaya, I was glad about my choice of pants over skirts. I leaped across the ditch and barely made it due to the weight of the backpack on my back. Once across the threshold, I heard my grandma's scolding Feisal about not taking my backpack too. Hands and arms reached out to me as I walked into the house. Tea and food was requested as was water to get cleaned up with. "Ayeyo, choo iko wapi? (where is the toilet?). My grandma peered at me and asked me if I really had to go and I said yep, I have been holding it in for 5 hours. She turns to my great aunt and asks her if she bought parafin for the feynuus. They have a discussion and after a while, my grandma approaches me with a can full of water and a sympathetic look. I HAD TO PEE OUTSIDE because there was no light in the latrine (which was also outside). I giggled and grabbed the can from my grandma and went to relive myself. When I came back my grandma asked me if I was ok. I nodded my head and said, "Ayeyo, nimezaliwa hapa (I was born here)." From that minute on I acted like the everyone else around me, which earned me the nickname survivor.

I love you more.............than you do?

2007-02-13T11:45:00.000-06:00

I haven't done what is expected of me i.e tell tales of my adventures in Africa but I will get around to it soon (I promise). I actually wanted to talk about something else today. Recently I was listening to radio and I decided to share my thoughts about it. The conversation was that in order to have a successful relationship, one person (in the relationship) has to have an over-abundance of love.

I was at first puzzled because I thought in an ideal world you would both be 50/50 on the amount of love. As I listened to the callers' opinions though I begun looking back into my relationships and I mean all including sister/friend/exs. A realization occured to me that in each relationship I was the lackey. The one who did the bidding;the slave. Mind boggling thought isn't it. Here I was confident in my ways with my life but when it came to someone else I tended to putty. So here is the challenge I pose to whoever reads. Look back in your relationships and ask yourself is the theory right? If so, who loved more? What are you using as a measuring tool? Do you think that you will keep your "position"?

Ps:- This is not an anti-valentine day post by the way ;) so if you think you can't handle the evaluation till after valentine day, then by all means wait it out. [If you evaluate your love life that is].

Un, Deux, Trois.........

2007-02-07T10:02:00.000-06:00

Here I go again. Its not the first time I have been here. The view is still the same. The same blurry lines, the same dull color, the same vernacular sounds. Its surprising that the whole world has advanced forward but this corner of my universe seems stuck. My lips pursue in thought. It really isn't as bad I thought, I console myself. I can handle this. I have been through worse, much worse. I pick up the object in front of me; my youth. Its fading fast. No more bright colors emanating from it, no more joyful giggles and goofy smiles. Time does fly and all I am left with is memories. Refusing to succumb to the self pity that I knew so well, I moved on. Next was my vocation. I picked it up and stared at the awards and congrats from it. Really, is that all I amount to? How about the sweat and blood hours I poured into being perfect at what I do? Does that not count for anything but placards of wood? I threw it across the room, my eyes flashing at the idiocracy my life is. I picked up a withered flower next. I had neglected this flower for a long time. Refusing to water it or even add manure so that it can mature into a beautiful flower that it is. The bees didn't find it particularly alluring and all the seeds in the ovum had given up on being pollinated. It was a sad case and I was the guilty party. I knelt by the flower and frailly touched the petals. This was my love life. The culmination of my world was within these objects scattered around this odd looking room. When I get the urge to make a change in my life, I walk back into the room and perhaps it is there that I find the courage to do what I have to do.

1st leg of journey

2006-12-20T00:26:00.000-06:00

Here are some views from my camera. I am learning to use the different styles it has and haven't mastered it yet. I like sepia tone one and there is another style that highlights a certain color. I will add more pics as I take them. Enjoy.

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A midflight proposal

2006-12-19T12:21:00.000-06:00

I mulled over where to plug in my computer so I could recharge my ipod but all I could see were sockets that looked destroyed. I was restless and irritable and became more so as people started filling the little waiting area. An hour before the flight was scheduled for take off, I was sitting snugly between two swahili speaking girls and swapping stories. I had also figured out that since I wasn't in the US the plugs in Amsterdam airport had a different look and I had my converter out and my ipod charging. It was fixing to be a nice flight considering it was going to be almost eight hours long. The only scar to the trip was going to be the security officer who tossed my cleanser and moisturizer because it was 18 mls above the limit. Which was ridiculous since the bottle said 118 mls but it was half full. I was pissy as I walked into the plane and ended up knocking into someone with my backpack. I apologized and sat in my seat. There was an empty spot between me and the lady at the window. Finally an aisle seat! I was hoping the middle seat remained vacant but a few minutes later a middle aged man walked up to my seat and started peering at his boarding pass curiously. He was supposed to sit opposite from me but another lady had mistakenly taken his seat. Graciously he said he didn't mind taking the lady's seat if she could point him to the right one. It was the middle seat. Damn it, I thought.

As he settled in his seat, he turned to me and inquired about my well being. We started talking about books, politics, airport security and kenyans. He lived in New Hampshire. His father had died a week ago. He was smart and funny. He spoke about religions. Apparently wearing hijabs is a fashion statement and he inquired to my faith. I pointed to my headscarf in exclamation and his laughter boomed across the plane. I assisted him in operating his movie console and remote, he in turn kept me entertained the whole trip. The lady he switched seats with was as delightful. She was full of wisdom and stories. She was heading home to properly mourn the loss of her first born son. Coincidence? I was going home to visit my great-grandma who was sickly and in fear of death. We discussed death for a while but I decided not to venture too deep into it. I was scared of what would meet me when I got to my great-grandma's bedside. After eating and drinking a couple Heineken, he dozed off leaving me to my ipod and movies. Around breakfast time, I got up to freshen up and nudged him awake because the hostess was coming around with food.

I walked back to my seat to find my food waiting and my drink of diet pepsi fizzing on his table. He smiled coyly at me and says, "I told the hostess my wife needs her breakfast and would be mad if she didn't leave anything." He also points out the diet-pepsi making me gape at his observance to my drinks all night. My admirer was on a full fledged attack now. He spoke of how he never gets along with people under 27 but with me it was relatively easy. He spoke of how he is willing to give up his religion to become a muslim if I gave him a chance. He also spoke of his past which was colorful. I giggled because he wasn't shy about his interest, but he knew he was not getting anywhere. As we got ready to land, he asked if I was staying for a while. I told him nope and wished him a pleasant stay. My trip was over and I had been entertained and I wasn't about to take this man up on his marriage proposal.

Ps:- the pics were taken by me while waiting to board the plane.

tranSIT till my butt fell asleep

2006-12-15T23:51:00.000-06:00

I am halfway through my journey to the dark continent and I am already tired. I am exhausted physically and mentally. I wish I could shut off like half of these people on the plane but I can't sleep a wink. So far from Detroit to Holland I have watched three movies in succession, ODed on diet pepsi and eaten breakfast and dinner. My eyes are itching cause my contacts want out and my butt is half asleep. The airport in holland is beautiful but the way I am feeling I couldn't be bothered. I looked for a Wifi hotspot and plugged in but I have to get back to my terminal soon because I want to schmooze with folks and kill boredom of the flight. I haven't read but two chapters of my book and my ipod hasn't had any playtime yet. All I can say is I can't wait to lie on a cold pair of sheets and taking a bath. This is how bad I hate being on transit, I actually went to a KLM desk and asked them to put me on the next flight available to my destination. I can't believe they only operate one flight per day! Are you kidding me? Its Christmas for Christ sake, don't you think you can add another flight on the rooster. Anyway I am done bitching. I am off to look for a place where I can get a decent cup of espresso and maybe go wash my face and freshen up. SAVE ME PLEASE!! Some dude from West Africa just came up to me to ask me about flights and stuff. He can't speak good english and all i can gather is he is heading to Kiev and wants to pick up his luggage. I thought if you are in transit you don't pick up your luggage, the airline takes care of all the headache. Maybe I should be worried about my luggage?? nah.......I got what I need in my carry on: My laptop, my books, my contacts, my feminine toilteries and my cell phone. No wonder my back is breaking. Pray that I don't have to have any issues when I get to Africa, I would hate to have an excuse never to go back there.

Mixed Union

2006-12-11T15:59:00.000-06:00

My friend is getting married this December. Its been close to a decade since she met her husband to be and now after all the struggles they are getting married. She will not have any family at the wedding because her mother is against the wedding and its out of the country. When she told me I felt bad for her because a wedding is a joyous occasion to share with all those you love. She will be with her husband's family but no one she can call her own. I will be traveling towards that area so I meaning to suprise her and come to her wedding. Its in Addis-Ababa. I don't even know how I will get there but she is a friend and a sister and least I can do is fly a few hundred miles and see her through the greatest step in her life.

I was thinking about her mother's objection to the wedding. It used to be she needed to finish school but she is done and still the objection remains. Could it be because the guy is half Ethiopian-half Italian? Could it be a discriminatory objection? Would my mother object if I did the same thing? I love my mother but I would like to think if I chose a husband and he was a God fearing muslim she would accept him. Is there something in the older generation that makes them think that mates should be from within their own race? As transportation gets easier and people move from place to place its getting more common for men and women to find mates from other races. Yet, in somalis there is not much conformation to this thought. In my family alone I have had cuzzins, grandpa and aunties who married white people. They have never being accepted by our extended family but in our house they found refuge. I remember the guy who married my cuz even came to my grandma's funeral at our house, even though his marriage had being destroyed by all the talk within in the family. I remember him wearing a khamis and giving hugs to us and telling us sorry. Instead of accepting his condolences the extended family kept asking what the hell he was doing there. I felt so ashamed and made it an effort to keep him a company during his visit.

Its unfortunate that we get caught up in our differences instead of our similarities. There are Mashallah plenty of great somali guys out there but if Allah places a brother (from another race) in your path who seems to meet all the criteria shouldn't you then say Alhamdullilah and accept him? Shouldn't your family be happy that you found a person to complete your deen with? I also noticed a trend that many woman prefer reverts as husbands because they tend to be more steadfast in their faith.

Di Dutty Wine Anyone?

2006-12-08T12:21:00.000-06:00

A new craze on the dance floor ladies and gentlemen. Fair warning though there have been cases where injury occured while getting your dutty wine on. I luv dancehall and ragga, hell anything that can keep me on the dance floor (my room) for more than five minutes sits well with me, but i am not sure about dutty wine. In Jamaica a girl got injured and now some people are asking for the dance to be banned from clubs. Seriously, forget getting injured, I am wondering what a man watching a girl do the dutty wine is thinking. The dancing is more than provocative it is plain suggestive. The neck is rotated with the same vigor as the ass, not to mention the splits performed in the dance. Watching Tony Matterhorn perform with audience members onstage, even he can't resist grabbing the woman and resting her squarely on his pelvis. Its a nice tune and all but looking at the different clips on youtube I can only imagine what messages this dance sends.

My fav clips of Dutty Wine is by a Colombian Dude and he kills it!

Ps:- For some reason the head swinging makes me think of arabic dances. In mombasa at weddings the bride used to swing her head till she fell. Wondering if thats arabic influence on dancehall?? I can't tell.

Concept of Forgiveness

2006-12-07T21:31:00.000-06:00

I ask for no forgiveness father, for I have not sinned. I only did what I had to do to survive. A small boy asked me once if I was a bad man. If I could answer him now, I would tell him that when I was his age, I killed a man to save my brother. I am not sorry for this... I am proud of this. I was not asked for the life that I was given, but it was given none-the-less... and with it, I did my best

I am thinking of this remark made by a character in the show Lost. Eko, who is the character, caused his brother's (priest) death due to his greed and has being followed by his demons since. The scene in which he makes this remark, he is been told by the ghost of his brother to confess and ask for forgiveness and the above is his reply.

Sometimes I question the obvious but when Eko said what he said it triggered something in me. There are moments in my life, and I am not ashamed to admit it, where I ask the same thing. People accept many things in life and one of which is the religious doctrine we are handed. Sins and the concept of sins has always alluded me. I could be just thick in the brain but from the creation of Adam and Eve, humans have being slated to sin. Our life revolves around either dodging sins or getting caught up in it. The DOs and the DON'Ts. See, I don't think its blasphemous to ask or maybe its due to the nature of my upbringing (my dad always told me to question everything someone handed to me including religion). So, here are a set of questions.

Why is our life revolved around sins?

If our time on earth is a test, and many of us failing this test, what is the point?

Forgiveness is granted to the sincere and remorse, but if they stumble again they are eligible for forgiveness. How does that work out with an end goal?

"I am human, I stumble and fall." I do my best but what if my best is never going to be good enough?

Please Leave Your Senses at the Door

2006-12-03T23:18:00.000-06:00

I do. I forego my senses everytime I walk into this room. Its not an ordinary room. The whole room is made up of mirrors and not just mirrors but mirrors of different properties. The mirrors make me see things I never usually pay close attention to, like the crinkle by lips that is getting deeper due to the increase in the number of forced smiles or the clearing up of my skin due to my use of proactive. Today, I walk to the center of the room and turn to stare at the different individuals looking back at me. They each take form. One is mad at the world. One is patient with the world. One is in love with the world. One is betrayed by the world. Each individual showcases their emotion clearly on their faces and bodies. They take on a form in their own entirety, shedding me in the process. I stand watching as each starts speaking. They have voices! Angry voices! Smart voices! Nice voices! Sweet voices! Loving voices! Crying voices! Sad voices! I struggle to understand them but their voices rise together like waves and crash with a roar upon my ears. Their emotions jump across the mirrors and envelop me, caressing me and touching me, begging me. I cringe yet its not out of disgust. I know what these emotions are. I have continually denied them in my life, always pushing them to the back of my mind and hoping they would stay there. I hug my arms to my body and kneel on the ground. I rock back and forth in the familiar motion of mother to a sleeping child. Pretty soon the roar subsides and when I look up the mirrors reflect only me.

How biased can one be?

2006-11-27T23:20:00.000-06:00

I am pissed, not mad but pissed off. I was sitting back today when a friend of mine posted a link for me to check out. It linked to a documentary that FOX channel aired. The documentary was titled; Obsession:Radical Islam's War Against the West. Is the title supposed to make me feel better that Fox takes apart my religion by separating the radical from the moderate, while in their documentary there was no moderates but only radicals shown. Prayers and khutbah's are seen as congregations of potential terrorists. No wonder we can't even pray in public places without drawing suspicion to ourselves. They talk of Arab media spreading propaganda but American media spreads more propaganda than any media outlets out there. Talk about bias. The mind boggles at the kettle calling the pot black. Lets talk about the children depicted in the video. These children were mainly from palestinians who live in a war torn country, constantly dehumanized and desensitized to the violence. I am sorry but I would have to be dumb to expect a mad person to act sane. These are people who have moved their reasoning to the far left as a reaction to the atrocities commited to them. How many of the clips were taken out of context? How much of the clips shown aren't doctored to throw Islam and immigrants in bad light? "America is being strangled by its own laws?" So, basically throw out all muslim immigrants because you don't know whom among them is a potential radical. Its absolutely revolting that a susposed news channel that should give two sides of an arguement can be so blantantly biased. Worse still is the comparison to Nazism. If anyone was really interested in finding out what motivates these acts of violence then perhaps they should do an investigation on what it is that makes a moderate muslim a radical? What must he have seen/experienced to dehumanize and desensitize him so much that he would forsake his life? Everytime I turn around these days its one thing or another about Islam. Our religion's name has being placed in the context of radical and acts of terror so much that most people can't distinguish between the two. I weep for our Ummah.

Watch Obsession.

Pesky Weddings

2006-11-27T15:41:00.000-06:00

I haven't gone to a wedding for two years but I had to go to one on Saturday night. I say had to because if it was a personal choice I would rather not turn up to the gathering. My first cousin was getting hitched to her hubby, someone I didn't even know nor have I met ever. She informed me of her wedding three weeks before the date via a phonecall informing me that I was expected to do the camera work. What irritated me was the fact that its not the first time that my extended family feels like my services are available for them at their every whim. I was scheduled to work that saturday till 6 pm and I didn't feel like standing, with a camera permanently attached to my hand, for another 7 hours. Furthermore, for a person that doesn't talk to you nor see you except once a year, thats a mighty favor to ask of them. I might come across as embittered but here is my reasoning. If you are going to have a wedding its your wedding, not mine. You want to make a big hoopla about it go right ahead, but do not drag me into it just because you are trying to cut corners financially. Thank God she got the hint that I didn't want to do it and got someone else to do it.

I hate weddings especially family weddings cause undoubtly talking will begin on how everyone is dressed, what hairstyle they have, what food is being served, how much money was spent etc. Its everywhere you turn and I can't stand it. The chickenheads trying to outdo each other with their dance moves and gyrating their bodies to the floor just so that they are seen as cool. Its a ritual that I fail to understand. The same girl you see doing the nasty with the floor will be wearing an abaya tommorrow and telling you she is sanctified and holy. Its like they conviniently forget the camera is trained on their butt shaking the whole time. I told my mother I am not cut out for these kinds of events. The only ones I seem to be comfortable in are the ones hosted by somali sujuis, and maybe those are because they tend to just focus on celebrating the union instead of all the other lil evil things that most somali weddings seem evolved to become about. I hope it will be another four years before I attend another wedding!

The Female abuser

2006-11-22T23:40:00.000-06:00

Last night as I got home from work, I sat on my bed contemplating my horrible day. My head was pulsating with an urgency, signaling the ever present headache. I reach out to grab my bottle of water and a couple tablets of my topamax. I knew it was no use because the migraine was going to be full fledged within an hour, but that didn't deter me from being optimistic. My head had barely touched the pillow when I heard raised voices from the living room. Not wanting to get up from sheer lack of energy, I listened to canopy ensuing between my younger brother and my younger sister. I told myself that they were old enough to resolve their differences without me getting involved each time. "Leylaaaaaaaaaa! Leeeeeeyla!" screamed my older sister as the tumbling of bodies echoed throughout the hallway. Pissed and irritated I get my butt out of bed to play the mediator. This was not a good day for me and I was stupid enough to believe I would find peace in this house. I walk into the living room to find my younger sister lying on the floor ,my older sister's body shielding her from the blows my brother was throwing. I almost burst out laughing but realize the seriousness of the situation and take action instead. I quickly maneuver my body in between my brother and my sisters. Planting my weight against the sofa I pushed him off them and turned my steely eyes to him. "What in the Hell do you think you are doing?" I yell. My older sister helps the younger one up and they all start speaking at the same time. I turn to the younger girl and tell her to shut up because her voice grates against my nerves. Facing the 5 ft 9 " teenager who seems to be ready to pounce on me, I ask my question again this time counting off my exasperation at this show of idiocracy.

The argument begun with my sister donning a pair of jeans and my brother, "the wadaad", ordering her not to step out the house with the jeans on. I smile as I listen to how passionately he positions his argument. Meanwhile, the chickenhead is slowly seeing that she will come out on the rosy side of things and start clucking her head off. I let her blow off stem for a while and pretty soon a shouting match ensues between her and her assailant. She turns on her heels and grabs the phone threatening to dial 911. He beats his chest and states he is not scared of 911 because his religion assures him he is right. My older sister looks to me for intervention and I can't be bothered to mother these two adolescents. I claim my phone back from the chickenhead and tell her to sit down and let me deal with this. She doesn't pay me any attention and keeps grating on my nerves with her shrill voice. **Slap**, I let my palm make my point, she instantly shuts up and sits down.

I turn my attention back to the so called "man" of the house. I lay down reasons why he can't raise a hand to her. She has parents who are living and breathing, she is not your wife nor your daughter, she is her own person and the most you can do is advice her on her course of action. "You and your western values, who do you think you are?" he throws it back in my face. I calmly look him in the eye and smirk, "I am the one who pays for your roof and your food." He opens his mouth to retort something but instead chooses to go to the bathroom to take a shower. I breath deeply as I try to fight the urge to punch the stupid out of him. I face my younger sister, by now she has a golf sized bulge on her head. I grab an ice pack from the freezer and slap it in her hand, after which I go off on her. I tell her how dumb she is that she can talk back to people but can't defend herself against a beating. She is asinine because this is the second time I bailed her out of an ass-whuping, courtesy of my brothers, due to her afka dheer. The last time she ended up with a grapefruit sized knob on her head. I shake my head at her and tell her to lie down. I grab my phone and proceed to let their mother know what happened and let her deal with the punishment.

The rest of the night went by relatively quiet. I sat up in my bed trying to nurse my migraine when my other sister came in from her night classes. I share with her the events of the night and we share a good laugh over how childish the squabble was, but we both understand there is a deeper issue we need to address; our brother's aggression against women. He seems angry at the world and more at women than anything. I can't seem to find an inlet in his psyche that I can penetrate and explore why he feels the way he does. My sister and I talk about the numerous ass whupping I used to deliver to my older brother everytime he felt an urge to exercise control. I used to be a tom-boy in my hey days and didn't take crap from anyone especially a man. If he could swing from the branches, so could I. If he could dive from the highest diving board, so could I. If he scored so many goals in soccer, I would work to score twice as much as he did. I was competitive and brazen. My best friends were male and I formulated my male ego, but I digress. My uncle had christened me Tyson. I had the knack of showing my frustration by punching something or somebody, but if I recall right he called me Tyson because one time my brother and I had a fight and my brother tried to defend himself by tangling my body with his and scratching my arms and face to stop the flurry of fists. I ended up doing more damage than he did, plus he left evidence of his attack while mine melted into his skin tone. The next day, my dad watched me out of the corner of his eyes noticing the scratch marks. That evening as my brother walked in from masjid, my dad lay in wait for him with a TV-VCR wire. I felt sorry for my brother at that time, but I remember thinking that he was learning a critical lesson and that was never to lay a hand on a woman. I can't help but make a comparison. I wish my younger brother could learn his lesson now otherwise I fear he will carry this mentality with him throughtout his life. The mentality that he is the man and therefore all should do as he wants. That he free to punish whenever & whoever he feels like. I am now scared of leaving the younger ones in his care due to his aggression.