Masha'Allah The Admiral! Mohamed O. Osman

[Siciid85]

Lame old played out excuses. You people use colonial sources when discussing the Mullah yet have the nerve to scream when those same sources you use
point out the fact the Mad Cow was nothing short of a double dealing coward who died fleeing to Abyssinia. Now that is the harsh truth.

[mody21]

Lame old excuses. Dooros use British sources when discussing the Mullah yet they scream when those same sources they use point out the Mad Cow was a double
dealing coward.

eydoors still ave darood on their lips like the proverbial chamber boy who was wiped by his master..the mad mullah has more history than you entire langaab yibir clan.

[Thuganomics]

waaryaa mody ASK sxb is you're self imposed exile over now

[mody21]

not really ill be heading back to dungeon soon, I am just here to give you eydoor brother saciid a heart attack I wonder how long it will take before he ask rightwing or another mod to bann me or before he goes Awal, i was just lurking by when I saw him picking on this one girls, the man has some serious case of langaab.

[Siciid85]

lol. I guess the Majerteen boycott is not working. Waligay wax ka daciifsan maan arkiin, kulaha we will boycott Somalinet until we get what we want. Do they think
this is the era of Puntland and TFG where such politics had a chance of working in their favor.

[mody21]

lol. I guess the Majerteen boycott is not working. Waligay wax ka daciifsan maan arkiin, do they think this is the era of Puntland and TFG where such
politics worked.

saciid I know you have an emotional deficit seeing as how you probably were born on the street of shithgaysa and seeing as how you werent breast feed and spent most of your life as a servant boy for darood, whom you have an odd obsession with, but unlike you eydoors the world doesnt revolve around this shity site, I just thought I would set you straight next time dont pick on girls who are just having a laugh I know the cuqdaad is deep in you but play with the hand that life has dealt you that of a feminine , looma oyaan , yibir from a langaab tribe that has been waiting for ictifaar for 20 some years.

[Siciid85]

War aniga waxas ima quseeyan, kolay ma ihi Jareerten ciil qaba oo wayey kursigi iyo oilkii oo biyo isku badashay lol. You are lucky the MODs locked that topic
before i could reply. I was going to put ilmo Jareerten on blast.

[mody21]

War hooyaada s**lkeeda uu sheega ina Jareertan. You are lucky the MODs locked that topic i was going to put ilmo Jareerten on blast.

siilkaagaa aaan usheegaa yaa khaanis foqal khanis if you wanna go there lets do it here and now BITCH Ill put you whole langaab eydoor clan on display and show the world what a bunch of miserable cunts you are, go Ahead test me , as you know I Dont give two shits if I get banned or not wallahi am itching to post some of the shit i have on your ilk.

[Coldoon]

Something wrong this kid named Siciid85.

Its clear the "Mad Mullah" was an enemy of the british state, you wouldn't expect them to praise him in their writings.

Siciid hates anything that was an enemy to the British Colonials. I have yet to meet a single White British individual that is cursing or insulting the Daraawish. The product of the Lackeys/Servants whom they've colonized, are today fighting on behalf of legitimizing the British Colonialism over the Somalis.

[Siciid85]

That is not true. My own sub clan of Baha Ismaaciil was allied to Suldaan Nuur the anti British Suldaan. But that still doesn't change the fact the Mad Cow
was a non native coward who died in a funk hole after fleeing with his tails between his legs. He was parasitic individual who survived up to 1920 because
of the native Somalilanders hospitality. His war should have been more directed at his Abyssinian homeland where thousands of his kins were getting conquered
by Menelik II;Perhap then majority of his people wouldn't have been occupied today.That is the harsh truth. The Mad Man will never be seen as a hero in
Somaliland and recently Mogadishu has woken up not to be deceived. The likes of Sheikh Bashiir,Haji Suudi Shabeele , Suldaan Nuur etc native anti colonial
fighters who fought like man and died in battlefield unlike the Mad Cow who fled, political activists who lobbied for Somaliland independence like Haji Adan Qaabile
get the respect of reer Somaliland.

[mody21]

That is not true. My own sub clan of Baha Ismaaciil was allied to Suldaan Nuur the anti British Suldaan. But that still doesn't change the fact the Mad Cow
was a non native coward who died in a funk hole after fleeing with his tails between his legs. He was parasitic individual who survived up to 1920 because
of the native Somalilanders hospitality. His war should have been more directed at his Abyssinian homeland where thousands of his kins were getting conquered
by Menelik II;Perhap then majority of his people wouldn't have been occupied today.That is the harsh truth. The Mad Man will never be seen as a hero in
Somaliland and recently Mogadishu has woken up not to be deceived. The likes of Sheikh Bashiir,Haji Suudi Shabeele , Suldaan Nuur etc native anti colonial
fighters who fought like man and died in battlefield unlike the Mad Cow who fled, political activists who lobbied for Somaliland independence like Haji Adan Qaabile
get the respect of reer Somaliland.

when you have no history you make it your point to try and rewrite others......this is the curse of the langaab eeydoor.

[Siciid85]

Says the one whose people who are known for prostituting the daughters of their traditional leaders such as Amina Boqor Cismaan to the colonials such as Douglas Collins -
A tear for Somalia.If that is what you call history keep it to yourself.




You are talking to a man who established a functioning administration with Sharia law way before the arrival of the colonialists. Ilmo Jareerten taariikh iguma gadhan.
That is a reality dose for your likes.







Know who you are talking to. One of the most civilized Somalis who were ahead of the primitive Bushmen Dooros.

[mody21]

wanst it last time that I proved this to be a total bullshit.

I dare you to prove the link or the book you got this from just like last time..were you went into hiding when I called you out on your failed photoshoping skill, you better check yourself saxiib your not the only one that can photo shop and make up bullshit. Seriously you going to open a whole can of worms you not ready for.

prostitution kulaha nigga werent you guys making pornos yesterday...did you forget adeer gunther.



PS I reverse image searched this , and no where on the internet was it found of all the archives in the internet there was not a single one that could verify this the only website coming up being somalinet man your sooooo pathetic wallahi..

The link to the image search: http://images.google.com/search?tbs=sbi ... 9&biw=1280


name th article website of forum where you got this BS from I will personaliy verify it name eithe bOOK, arhcive or scholarly work you got this from...I dare you. Your "facts" are just as realistic as the east african nation of somaliland

beeesha yibir langaab wallahi daroood ceeb envy is going to be the end of you.

[Siciid85]

What is there to photoshop? all the sources are out there you nincompoop. Just because your whole history is about the two Italian lackies Kenadid and Ali Yuusuf +
Amina Boqor Cismaan, doesn't mean everybody is like you.


Modern day prostitution in Puntland.

2010
Somali women and girls, some of whom were trafficking victims, engaged in prostitution in brothels in Garowe, the Puntland-administered part of Las Anod (Sool region),
and pirate towns such as Eyl and Haradheere. Some female brothel owners, who can profit as much as $50 per client, reportedly kept these victims in harsh conditions
and meted out physical abuse.
http://www.state.gov/j/tip/rls/tiprpt/2010/142763.htm

What you mean it can't be verified? Ma caruur baad tahay lol. There is a whole book written about Douglas Collins and his adventures with Amina Boqor Cismaan the
daughter of the supposed royal family of the Majerteen, how she was prostituted so they can get weapons to steal the vast palm trees in Bari that were owned by
the Midgans.There is also a sketch of half naked Amina Boqor Cismaan with her stiff tits out performing the butterfly dance in the full book.


A tear for Somalia Jarrolds, 1961.
http://books.google.co.uk/books/about/A ... edir_esc=y

Amiina herself broke the spell by whispering, 'War, Abdi Melik, awa wa addo' (Oh, how the moon shines), and then kissing me passionately,'Oh my God, I love thee'. Drunk with happiness, I replied with a long, slow kiss, 'I love thee too, Amiina'.he brilliant moon now riding high above bathed us both in her friendly light. Drawing my lungi over us we slept, lulled to sleep by the trade winds whispering in the palms, and the incessant breaking of the surf.All too soon from the Suacron fishing village behind us a cock-crowheralded the false dawn and Amiina stirred sleepily in my arms. 'Abdi Melik,' she whispered, 'I si, I si' (give me, give me). Her lips parted and her kisses infused me with a passion more than I could bear, soon, too soon to be extinguished as love itself rested. Urgently now the cock crowed its strident reveille again. The sun's first blush peeped above the sea. Pulling Amiina protestingly to her feet I stripped in a second whilst she disrobed, letting fall her shift as she looked shyly at me, a bronze aphrodite. Hand in hand we ran to the sea, splashing through the shallows and surf, then swimming on to a wrecked dhow where we rested, panting with exhilaration and laughing with the joy of being young and in love. 'Ahalki an tagno' (let us return), I smiled at her. 'Edinku sidas shada, eg! wainu ta-gaina' (Say ye so? lo, we go), she laughed, diving in the shining waves and heading for the beach.We dressed quickly and ran up to the house, past the astonished sentry, who gave me a belated butt salute as we went by, and so began my love affair with Amiina.
===================
During these ecstatic nights I would teach her English, giving her simple exercises to do whilst I worked in the office by day. From Amiina I learnt much of the folk-lore of the Somalis; that the legendary figures of the Somali race, Darod and Isshak, came from Arabia, and she herself claimed to be able to trace her ancestry to these Arabian aristocrats. Amiina possessed all the physical beauty rhapsodied by the younger set of advanced Somali poets in their short love-poems, the 'belwo'. A poet will often write some of his best 'belwo' to an un-approachable beauty knowing that his love for her is hopeless—perhaps because of his financial standing or because of his inferior tribe. He would base his romantic love on the curve of a breast or the nicker of an eyelash.These Somali love-poems are mostly of physical love, passionate and sincere. It is not done to use vulgar expressions, thereby offending public taste. It must be remembered that poetry requires no special materials nor carrying space other than the talent of the composer, which is carried in his memory. Since the Somali is continually moving his tents in the search for grazing and water this is important, for he must carry as little equipment as possible on his burden camels. Also poetry costs nothing —quite a factor to the nomadic Somali in his insecure and poor life. Generally, marriages are not undertaken lightly by Somalis and are mostly arranged Vy the parents with a view to mutual financial advantages. . The arrangements are complex and are decided upon by the man con¬cerned, the girl's father and also the tribal Akils or elders. Much must be arranged and then settled; the bride-price ('yarad'), the token payment made ('gabati) by the man on his engagement and the percentage ne has to find of his estate, the 'mehr', which is made out to his wife on marriage. A dowry, or ('dibat') is given to the couple by the bride's family. Usually the girl before marriage is gentle and very beautiful, but after marriage, like her European sister, she generally develops into a shrew, becoming irritable and a nagger. The reason for this is that her position is caused by economic necessity as well as tradition. Her status is decidedly inferior to that of man. For this reason I think many Somali women prefer European amourettes, for unlike the Somali, who if he treated his wife with unusual thoughtfuhiess, would be laughed at by the rest of his tribe, the European would show her that kindness and consideration he normally shows to his own women, to which the Somali girl is unaccustomed. And so it was with Amiina and myself, for in my love-making I showed her all the gentle intimacies of love without the lustful passion she alone would have known otherwise.
During the long evenings I took delight in composing poems to her, as close to the Somali 'balwo' as I could get, and in one of them I described her charms:
================================
'As lovely as a dhow at sea
Thy young beauty is to rne, Tall, with all the gerenuk's grace,
A daughter of the Darod race.
Black hair, fine as gossamer thread, Eyes that speak of things unsaid High cheek-bones with straight nose On thy mouth—the desert rose.
God was with him and in the morning when he awoke, the dry bones were covered with meat. The next night he left the bones again in the cave and in the morning they were clad with flesh. 'He lived thus for many weeks. 'Then it came to pass that one day he saw a girl with her flocks. He went to meet her and she told him her name was Donbirro, and she was the daughter of Dir, the son of Irrir, and lived in a near-by village. Darod asked her if she would like him to water the flocks for her and she replied that this was impossible since the nearest well was many days' walk away. Then Darod took her sheep and goats and watered them at his own well. Donbirro came every day to the place where Darod lived. Every day she gave him milk from the sheep and goats of her flock and every day Darod watered the flocks at his well, Donbirro was a beautiful girl, tall and of good bearing, with soft and lovely features. Darod fell in love with her and wanted her for his wife.'But one day Donbirro's father grew curious and asked the girl why the flocks would not take water when they returned to the village. Donbirro did not reply.
The next day, therefore, Dir, the father of Donbirro, set out with a young man from the tribe to follow the girl when she went out with the flocks. When they found Donbirro she was talking with Darod, near the well, and the flocks having been watered, were resting near by. When Darod saw the two men he feared for his life, and climbed a huge tree that stood close by the well, having first covered the mouth of the well with a large flat stone. That tree is known as "Lanta Ful" (the branch he climbed) and is standing even now.
==========================
The father of Donbirro approached with the other man of the tribe, and when they saw the girl and Darod, they were very angry. Then they saw the well, and the flocks resting, and they coveted the well for the use of their tribe, and wished to take it away from Darod. 'The two men strove to take away the stone from the well, but Darod was beloved of God and they could not move it. Then they called for Darod to come down from the tree, but Darod, knowing they meant him evil, refused. 'Finally, Dir, the father of Donbirro, asked Darod what price he would take to come down from the tree and remove the heavy stone from the well, so that the tribe might use the water. Darod replied that he would come down and remove the stone and give the well to the tribe for their own use, if Dir, the father of Donbirro, would let him marry the girl. 'Then the father of Donbirro told Darod he might have the girl, and so Darod consented to descend from the tree. But Darod told the two men that if he jumped he would break his bones. Therefore he asked the men to come and stand beneath the tree so that he might step down on their shoulders. The one man, proud and haughty, refused, but Dir, who was the head of the tribe, came and stood beneath the tree, and Darod stepped on his shoulders and came down to the ground, and that was a sign of peace between them.'And Darod approached the well, where lay the flat stone which the two men could not move, and he kicked it away lightly with one foot. And the tribesmen were amazed.
========================
'Then Darod married Donbirro, and from her he had five sons, and Darod lived out his life in our land and from him are descended my father, Mohamed Boghor, and many
other great men. And the tribes of Darod are the Warsangeli, the Dolbahanta, the Isman Mohamed of the Mijjer-tein, the Ogaden, and the Bartire.
'And Darod was beloved of God, and had great wisdom, and lived the life of a Muslim. He went among the people and spoke to them the words of the Prophet (upon whose
name be praise) and turned away from our idols, and towards Allah, the Merciful, the Compassionate.' Amiina, her story told, lay back and I kissed her.
Later that evening,
under a full moon, she danced for me the butterfly dance of the Mijjertein Somalis. But this night of enchantment was marred by the first whisperings of doubt in
my mind, for she then brought up the vexed question of the date gardens at Ghesseli, passionately declaring that the Isman Mohamed were the rightful owners and
not the despised Midgans. She angrily resisted my advances when I would not agree. We returned to Alula, both angry, and the doubt and suspicion grew until like
the kherif outside, they screamed through my tortured mind that my love meant nothing to her, that she really loved Sheik Abdurraham Mursal's son and that she was
just a tool of her father, the Sultan, and was merely pretending a love of make-believe in order to further the ends of her tribe.
============================
Night after night she persisted in her impassioned pleas, first coaxing and then furiously demanding that the date gardens be returned to the Isman Mohamed,
and night after night I wearily resisted her blandish¬ments. There was no more love-making between us for she no longer spoke the intimate little endearments
I wished to hear, and withheld from me her bewitching body for which I craved. One hot tropical night the end came suddenly with a violence which appalled
me. Mouthing obscenities she screamed abuse in Somali at me. Her eyes went mad. She called me a 'waraba', a hermaphroditical dog. Inher violence she picked
up a heavy steel ash-tray, hurling it at me and cutting my forehead.The warm blood flowed and mingled with the bitterness on my lips. I struck her—hard on the face
with my open hand. She reeled across the room, her eyes extended with shock. Tears then flowed and she ran sobbing from the room, away into the empty night.
What is love, I thought bitterly? That elusive something one tries to pluck out of the heavens with clutching hands and eager heart. Is it happiness? Ah!
No! A little happiness, yes, during those all too brief ecstatic moments soon to be dispelled by long, weary, agonising hours of unhappiness, and then the hell of hate,
for where does love begin and hate finish? Then comes the sword of jealousy—long and silvered. It bites through the breast. Not in one long, clean, quick thrust,
but slowly questing as though doubting that awful finality. Reaching the heart it probes gently and its tip is withdrawn with just a touch of crimson.
A thousand times it touches the target of love and then with one heart¬rending, final thrust it goes home and the blade is withdrawn fully crimsoned to the hilt.
===============================
The heart is no more. There is no more love. Nothing to love with.
The months passed slowly now and I was in an agony to hear news of the war. I sent a letter to headquarters in Mogadishu requesting a relief so that I might
be relieved and sent to a more active sphere. There was no answer.
My gramophone records had long since worn out and I had not had a drink for months. I brewed a kind of'grappa' from dates and added army ration plum jam,
which turned it into a poisonous liqueur, but in the evenings its potency aided sleep. I could feel the utter loneliness closing in on me. I grew irritable when
I found sand in the sugar although I had been used to it for almost a year now. I cursed Yusuf when I found him helping himself to a spoonful of my army plum
jam. My last tin. A month later the long-awaited mail came up by diesel with the good news that I was to be relieved at last. The colonel himself was to visit
Alula, bringing my relief up with him. The days and weeks went by monotonously. The nights were lonely without Amiina. I missed her laughter, her tantrums
and her tears, but above all I missed her bewitching body with a longing that must remain unassuaged. A plume of dust over the sand dunes heralded the
arrival of the colonel's convoy withmysuccessor, Keith. I saluted and shookhands with them both.
146
=========================
'Well, Collins, you've had a long spell here,' said the colonel conver¬sationally. 'Are you fit?' He looked sharply at me.
I nodded dumbly and ushered them to the house. Haji Dif fussed around, shaking hands with his escort.
The guard commander turned out the guard and presented arms. He inspected them. Minutely. Each man stiffened to attention and gazed rigidly to his front.
Gendarme Ali Jama had the top button of his tunic undone. The colonel flicked at the offending button-hole with his cane.
'Do it up,' he said.
Ali Jama quivered with fright, endeavoured to right the frightful enormity with fumbling fingers, then dropped his rifle.
'Pick it up,' rasped the colonel. I blushed.
'Dismiss the guard,' he ordered. I marched to their front, right-turned and stood to attention.
'Guard dis miss,' I shouted.
The guard commander and three men turned sharply to their right. Ali Jama turned to the left. Chaos.
'As you were,' I roared. 'Guard dis miss.' They marched off.
We had lunch. The colonel and Keith made small talk, I remained silent. After weeks of waiting for this moment I now resented their presence.
I wanted to be alone again.
Kit inspection followed. There were eight spoons missing.
'Haji Dif,' called the colonel, 'ask these askaris where their spoons are.' The askaris remained silent.
'My fault, sir,' I mumbled. 'I borrowed them for tunny bait.' The colonel cocked a quizzical eyebrow at me.
I focused my eyes mesmerically on the red band encircling his cap. Keith sniggered.
'You did what?' snapped the colonel. I found my tongue at last and explained in great detail how a spinning spoon would attract tunny better than live bait.
He was no Isaak
Walton fan and was not amused.
'The hospital,' he said. We inspected it.
'The lines,' he said. We inspected them.
"The latrines,' he said. We inspected them. They smelt.
'The armoury,' he said. We inspected it. In a corner stood half a dozen spare carbines with bayonets attached. A spider had built an intricately laced web festooning the
bayonet points. 'Pretty, sir,' I remarked lamely as he poked the web to pieces with his cane.
'The jail,' he said. I sweated.
147: end.
A Tear For Somalia
By Douglas Collins
end.

So you see kid. You have been lied to by your Jareerten cousins to think Majerteen had any decent history. Go ahead and get busy performing the famous
butterfly Majerteen dance.

[mody21]

LOL you always post the same nonsense last time it was a mermaid on a ship with this same story then I posted the link to the website suuqa.com which was a website written by an edydoor like yourself and contain many disturbing and hate filled post about darood....as for douglis colins book tear of somalia there is absolutely not a single mention of majeerteen kings daughter in the book at all, I will show you how this is the case....

if you take any text from a book and google search it it will give you a link to that book...for example here is what happens when I Google search this quote

Those who understand the new Free will command tomorrow's markets and disrupt today's

this is the link I get: https://www.google.com/search?q=those+w ... 80&bih=697

this is what most teachers use to catch plagiarist students, now when I searched this quote

Later that evening,
under a full moon, she danced for me the butterfly dance of the Mijjertein Somalis. But this night of enchantment was marred by the first whisperings of doubt in
my mind, for she then brought up the vexed question of the date gardens at Ghesseli, passionately declaring that the Isman Mohamed were the rightful owners and
not the despised Midgans. She angrily resisted my advances when I would not agree. We returned to Alula, both angry, and the doubt and suspicion grew until like
the kherif outside, they screamed through my tortured mind that my love meant nothing to her, that she really loved Sheik Abdurraham Mursal's son and that she was
just a tool of her father, the Sultan, and was merely pretending a love of make-believe in order to further the ends of her tribe

This is the Link i get: https://www.google.com/search?q=Later+t ... =firefox-a

which leads to two website owned by the same person ....suuqo.com and tariiikhsomalia a blog spot owned by an eydoor...the funny thing is do you remember last time you posted this image and the same story pretending that it was a historical reference, than hid for weeks when you couldn't prove it.


its sad wallahi how much cuqdaad is in you even to go as far is making up fake historic refrences, unlike you a bastard eeydoor street boy who always watched in envy as the darood children lived fat bellied, I dont suffer from extreme langaabnimo , i dont need to pretend that your eydoor leaders daughter were given to the british, to show that you clan is nothing more than fodder like a puffer fish weak and frail but always trying to pass as menacing, we had this same kind of back and forth and you conceded last time going into hiding, but I know you depend on short memory of people on this site and I know you will paste the same story sometime in the future thus is the case for the cuqdaad written langaab, the mighty majeerten does not need to lie or be mischievous our history is known and our power is felt, go on boy make yourself believe that we would stoop to the level of eeydoor who sell their children and film pornos with foreigners. either way the majeerteen will be

suuqo.com http://beenaywaarun.blogspot.com/2008_0 ... chive.html

tariikh is the website that contains most of this fake historical writing that you and your eeydoor gang always post...in fact there is no other source for anything that you said...that can confirm boqor cusmaan had a daughter at all, and I will personally transfer $100 into your paypal if you can show any source that say boqor cusman had a daughter.

douglas collins book has nothing in the way of romance its strictly history and has no mention of majeerten king even having a daughter.....here is the actual link to the real book.

http://books.google.co.uk/books?id=0JQ0 ... 22&f=false



these are the same website that I have proven to be write by some eeydoor , and have no Somali historical references..the difference between majeerteen and the yibir langaab tribe is that we dont have to go and make up fake historical references the truth hurts more than anything else. Majeerteen as a subclan of darood have more political historical relevance than the whole eeydoor langaab tribe, you will never see me trying to rewrite eeydoor history because frankly speaking you guys have none....instead I post this

The case of a German , Gunter Bichoss who is accused of making indecent films with Somaliland women has been transferred to Berbera according to local papers.

It has become very difficult to hold the court hearing of Mr. Gunter in Hargiesa because of the huge presence of crowds angered by the action of the accused around the court location.

On an earlier date , Mr.Gunter Bischoss was accused of decadent behavior and shooting of immoral movies acted by Somaliland ladies. The accused who was arrested and remanded in custody is waiting for trial which will take place in Berbera court.

This is the first case of its kind in Somaliland history as something like this has never been heard before by Hargiesa inhabitants. The case is expected to be ruled this week in Berbera .

The suspect has been in Somaliland for a couple of years. His immoral behaviours which are contrary to the Somali culture as well as the Islamic religion shocked the religious leaders as well as the rest of the populace. Reports indicate that there are other foreign men who are spreading such behavior and the security officers are pursuing them.

There are many Humanitarian organisations in Somaliland particularly in the Capital , Hargeisa and these agencies often recruit foreign experts for their offices in the city
http://www.waryatv.com/read/article/9015 .

in the words of walter white "Dont try to bullshit, a bullshiter"