Comfort Creature

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

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

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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

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?

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?

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..........

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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?

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.........

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

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

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

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

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?

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

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.

1. Why is our life revolved around sins?


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


3. 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?


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