Cruel Jokes Of The UDUB Empire

I wish I could have lyrics of poem or song full of Irony and sarcasm with a deadly weapon  to ngue. A fair jury with iron guts that calls a spade, a spade. An advocate for the silent  majori ty, and a volunteer for a positive dramatic change, like professor Gariye.

A fortune – teller and arm – reader, accurate and sharp in his prediction. A clairvoyant and a sooth - sayer that chats with the stars and interprets the whispering of the wind. A compas sionate preacher with humble presence. A play – writer and a dramatist with an emblematic metaphor; and flowery language. A Somali Shakespearian and Rage Ugas of the century, like professor Hadrawe.

An alarming sensor; and a genuine icon for a revolting nation. A figurative artist with  immen se imagination that has no boundary. Our own Pushkin and a Somali Philosopher with dynamic magnitude that borrows from no other culture. The first torch bearer, who lit the first candle for our uprising, like Abwan Abdi Qais.

A traditionalist friendly with nature and the environment. A cherished mentor and an  inspiri ng role model for the Somali culture. A play – writer with impressive elegant expressions that captures your imagination. A poet who touched the hearts of so many, like Abwan Hassan Ganey.

A master of all those fatal tools and a trigger in hand. What you expect is nothing but smash and ash of the spider – web and it’s henchmen; for sure I will jump the gun.

Nowadays it is an acquired pattern of behaviour that we accustomed to. Whenever two girls from Kulmiye and UDUB party quarrel over a missing lip stick. Somebody called Ali Gurey  thre atens the Chairman of the silent majority, Mr.Ahmed Mohamed Mohamoud to be extradited. More disgustingly, claims that Hargeisa belongs to him and he is in a position to issue a  warr ant of deportation for the Chairman. Mr.Ali, if your father had lied to you up to the teeth. Please don’t lie to your son. Because Hargeisa belongs to no tribe, and nobody. Hargeisa is the capital of Somaliland, and every Somalilander is entitled to enjoy the peace and stability of this blessed town. From Ailaayo to Looya Addo. Mr.Ali, if you want to prove yourself to  Mr.Riyalle. Please try other more civil approaches; and put your shoe on the right foot.

Going on the speed of light is bad for your age and time. Let not the sands of time get in to your lunch. The birds are grouchy in the morning because their bills are over due. The cows grazing in the field are not content. The camels need camel-bells because their ears don’t  w ork. Somalilanders have a hard time deceiphering the fine line between boredom and hunger. Mr.Ali, to live your life to the fullest, you have got to be a master of economics.

After all, time’s demand is always far exceeding it’s supply. Your eyes are crossed after you have failed to clean that messy house of the UDUB Empire. Even if you are bidding right now for that delusive, false stimulant, and profitable projects; and you are lured by the  tantaliz ing empty promises of Mr.Riyalle. Gambling with your status and reputition to attain honour, or fall in to misfortune. Still, you must respect and remember how good it once was. The re lationship between you and the chairman. The good old days that you were sipping honey and milk together. United by a kind of feeling which was better than how you are now. Resenment and grievance is the central core of the masses. Mr.Ali, the candid camera and the tape recorder of history is set up. Watch out, we are not alone Somebody is watching us. If you are sober. Be either one, a healthy Christian or a good moslem. Mr.Ali, your tools wor king in other people’s garden. Next time, please put some salt in to your cruel jokes.

Mr.Eckhart Tolle , the author of the ( Power Of Now ) in his new book titled as ( Stillness  Spe aks ) recommend us to be free from our destructive mind which is full of hatred, emotions, greed, and selfishness. In order to discover the great depth of the lasting peace,  contentm ent, and serenity that is anchored deeply in our Inner – Soul Of our Consciousness. So that to end our suffering as human being to one another.

We must say NO to our destructive mind that tells us repetitive, noisy disturbing thoughts; and self – serving clamouring for attention. We live in a wonderful, beautiful World full of ch arm, and glory. But few aliens like Mr.Riyalle, pollutes it with their destructive toxic minds. When the rest of us get the lump out of our throat. Think deeply and give thought to the awesome examples that our ancestors had set for us in our traditions. Which validate and ascertain that, when something goes wrong; Still good things can still happen. Memory ties us to the past, hope ties us to the future. Sir Aubrey De Vere said, every one has a purpose in life. A unique gift or special talent to give to others. When we blend this unique talent with service to others. We experience then, the ecstasy and exultation of our spirit.

In Mr.Riyalle’s School of politics, a good conversationalist is anyone who can talk louder than the TV. But me, I have learned silence from the talkative, tolerance from the intolerant, and kindness from the unkind. Yet strange enough, I am ungrateful to those teachers. Life’s  trag edy is that we get old too soon, and wise too late. You realize that your children are grown up when they stop asking you where you going, and refuse to tell you where they going. Many voices are whispered in to our ears but few are true. Mr.Riyalle, if you want to get  un divided attention to every word you say. Talk while you are sleeping.

Every child has the right to get a bath – tub, as well as a bottle milk, a mosque, a play – grou nd, and a kinder – garden. Where nature may heal, cheer, and give strength to body and soul alike. Everyone needs a love and to touch a rose in his life span.

Reading the desperate face of the lay – man on the street is my favourite book. Using his to ngue as a pen inked with twisted tears deep, deep from his heart. As we share and have many things in common. That is why his agony and scream shivers my spine. His coughing and sneezing opens my eyes to see, and my brain to detect. Then I noose around and apply all my senses to snoop. If I set aside all negativity, and redeem all sins. Still, I smell blood in  wa ter. We have fallen a prey to the grip of some wicked heartless special interest group that steals gold teeth from the dead body, and chocking with their throat.

Ignorant elements that mess both, our arrival in to life, and our departure to death. All their intention is to get rich on our behalf; and to rip us off. Wearing ear – rings in the belief that it blinds the eye – sight of the masses in order to install a rigged election. Mr.Riyalle, in a World without walls and fences. Who needs windows and gates? Instead of forwarding well cherished opinions and fruitful ideas, to uplift our hope and aspirations. They are stamping out dirty words through dirty mouths. Skinning people alive and piercing needles in to our eyes.

Sweeping our hearts with forks and knives. There is no light at the end of the tunnel. We are conquered by wild mosquitoes hungry for pain. False prophets which come to you in sheep’s clothing; but inwardly, they are ravening wolves. A fox has a hole, a bird has a nest, but the son of Somaliland has nowhere to lay his head. Mr.Riyalle, if you are doing those hurtful cruel acts to set your egoic goals for the purpose of freeing yourself from the constant poverty that you are encountered with. Or to enhance your sense of importance. I assure you that you will never be more happier; even if you achieve those goals. Because you are swimming in a swimming – pool of human blood. You will always be engaged in seeking more of this, or that.

Besides the punishment of your Inner – Soul which contradicts to your destructive mind. Money can’t buy you friends but you get a better class of enemy. If all else fails, finally you will sell the flag and the national anthem. Eight painful back – breaking years is enough ordeal for a helpless nation that had suffered a lot, and never seen the light of freedom since 1960. And now they are on the edge of falling apart; or to be annexed by the new Emperor of Eithopia Mr.Meles Zenawe. They intend to run our kitchen – soup for ever; or to claim that Somaliland is surrounded and threatened by Al Shabab Liberation Army. So that they can flee and escape with their penalty and demerit.

Whenever we argue over spilled water, my wife says to me. “ I will be a young man’s slave rather to be an old man’s darling. “ Mr.Meles, Somalilanders are birds without boundary. Fences are nothing to those who can fly. A good neighbour is a fellow who smiles at you over the back fence, but does not climb it. Love your friend but do not pull down the fence. Mr.Meles, do you believe that the hand that breaks the cradle is the hand that rules the  wor ld? Mr.Meles, please don’t fan the flame that supports the fire. Too far east is west. Remember that we ate a peck of salt together. If you impose on your friends, you will wear out your welcome. Please, don’t tax your friends heavily. Everyone knows where his shoe pinches. Please don’t break my cradle, and don’t shake my tree. Tears are hydraulic force by which a masculine will – power is defeated by feminine water – power. He who teaches patience never knew the pain.

Those who attain to any marked degree of excellence in chosen pursuit must work, and work hard for it, peasant or prince. We need urgently to unite our vital forces; and build a  prote ctive barrier to shield us from their ill conceived scheme. We must be in a hurry before the sky rains blood. Mr.Riyalle, you can’t change the past; but you can try to ruin the present for worrying about your dark future – shock. History is now and England. The air hung thick and cold around your table.

Mr.Riyalle, every rising sun in your rule and reign is another nail in our coffin. The only sense that is common, is the sense of change. Your life style of Governing is a series of crushing disappointments. Mr.Riyalle, do you have a feeling of guilt about something awful you did in the past; or something good you have failed to do in the present? I doubt much. Because if you had been more aware and more conscious. You would have acted now differently. Mr.Riyalle, you are a curse that was inflicted on us by the angry spirits of our dead heroes.

Mr.Ahmed Mohamed Mohamoud, Kulmiye Chairman:- Willson Churchil said, don’t be afraid of the pressure. Pressure is what turns a lump of coal in to a diamond. The degree of one’s em otions varies inversely with one’s knowledge of the facts. Man’s mind is stretched by a new idea, never goes back to it’s original dimensions. Genius is one tenth inspiration and nine tenth perspiration. Greatness comes with recognizing that your potential is limited only by how you choose your channels, how resolute you are, and how persistent you are. In short, by your attitude.

Mr.Riyalle, thank you for being totally ugly.