A few months ago, your correspondent accompanied an old acquaintance to an auction house. This auction house had a place in the medulla of your correspondent; It was here three years earlier that your correspondent bought a number of classic books Including the works of William B Yeats, the great Irish poet whose poems goaded Irish independence (he was a member of the IRA and has certainly provided the intellectual undertones for Irish nationalism).
Yeats once wrote that education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire. These words of wisdom underlie this thread!
As a young adult in school in Africa, your correspondent was exposed to the works of Anglo-Saxon writers, e.g. Shakespeare, Defoe, Hemingway and Jonathan Swift. In particular, he loved the satirical work of Jonathan Swift including his opus, Modest Proposal in which he suggested that because the poor posed a burden on society, their children should be consumed. His under the weather satire was logical; parents of poor kids should sell their children to the rich; the rich will get food; the poor will get money and safe from burden. At the onset, it is discernible to the shallow eye that this stance is grotesque; morally, culturally and against nature. How could a writer of Swift’s calibre use such a ghastly argument and put forward a proposal to escape poverty by selling kids as food to the rich people? Swift was among others sardonic on projects that tried to fix population and labour issues with a simple cure for all solution. He felt insulted as a champion of the poor. I was also a vivid reader of African writers series; who will forget the great works of Achebe, Ngugi Wa thiongo , Leopold Sengour and our Nuradin Farah. I loved Nuradin’s earlier books “From a Crooked Rib and Naked Needle. Admittedly, I am not a fun of his later books. Who will forget young beautiful women from the countryside who were married to older women? The depiction – sometimes romanticizing of the countryside? His latent criticism of the regime and his ability to narrate the dynamics of the urban!
As the auction commenced your correspondent could not lay to rest a recurring thought; why do white people love old things? If you travel to Africa, the Middle East and even Asian countries, old things are viewed as obsolete not only in value but also in terms of public relations. It seems that the idea of modernity has permeated into the veins of people in developing countries. While in Western countries, living in a building from the 17th century is viewed as the pan ultimate ascension to self fulfilment (intellectually and footing , eminence etc), people in developing countries equate old things with poverty. Travel to anywhere in Africa or even visit Somali websites and you’d find the picture of a new building in a certain town being portrayed as a stride to greatness; as the pan-ultimate sign of prosperity. Where is the mundul? Where is the Hoori? Where is the “daash”? The Cariish? Waa laga faanayaa!
Anyway, yaa aanan sheekada idinku badinine; after an hour or so of “ Kam yaa sir, Kam yaa guul” your correspondent was approached by a fine looking lady who introduced herself as an ethnologist attached to an NGO. She recognised that your correspondent was from East Africa (perhaps it was the chicken chest, spaghetti legs which exposed him). After introductions and some laughter about the weather (yes that is the talking point in Europe) she told your correspondent about a project that was to change his plans for the near future.
She has been contacted by a Brussels based organisation to find ways of helping failed states to rebuild their education infrastructures. The logic governing the project was subtle but the goals of the project were crystal clear; Capacity building and overhauling of the education infrastructure will in the long run help failed states to leave behind years of poverty, illiteracy, tribalism and other ills. In short, she wanted someone with inside knowledge of the people, country and the socio-cultural context to do identify the institutions, conduct a needs analysis, provide a plan of action and ultimately to act as a go between (in the beauracratic jargon; consultants).
As some of you may know, your correspondent is a busy man. He therefore ruled out his input to this noble cause but pledged to get in touch as soon as he finds someone who can shoulder this noble responsibility. On his way home, your correspondent was struck by a thought; a few months ago in a fadhi-ku-dirir joint full of café philosophers your correspondent was approached by an old man who lamented that educated somalis are letting the nation, country and people down! Although he was an illiterate he u almost sounded like JF Kennedy; “Ask not what your country can do for you - ask what you can do for your country”; He said“ walee waa la is weydiin; bal dalkaaga, dadkaaga iyo diintaada maxaad u qabaty”? “dadka sidaad oo kale ayaa laga doonayo inaay dadka/dalka wax u qabtaan!
As your correspondent left the auction house, these words kept echoing in his ears. This is perhaps the long awaited opportunity to do something Lamagoodlow, he murmured to himself!
The next morning, your correspondent knocked on the office door of his boss. After the usual briefings (she mentioned that I should travel to La Paz, Bolivia where I have been to two years ago and where I experienced the worst kind of racism; a black man cannot bring a white woman to a hotel!), I told him I needed two weeks off to do something that I always wanted to do. Your correspondent told him about the events of the past day, narrated to her the dire state of Somalia and passionately described the long term moral implication of this endeavour.
She laid two options on the table; take a formal leave or go on this mission as part of your work. If you opt for the latter then expect to be recalled for duties if there is an emergency. The former option was a little bit sturdy because your correspondent had planned to visit Kenya (and perhaps meet Jam Street to lecture him about the glorious days of the boys from Mersyside!) and subsequently, the NFD to be among true Somalis.
Your correspondent gambled and told his boss that he will opt for the second alternative. To be clear, the task had nothing to do with my job description. I am not qualified to conduct needs analysis of higher education capacity building. But, as you know there is an emancipatory dimension; a giving back aspect. Remember, the old guy in the fadhi-ku-dirir( philosophers’ cafe)?
The boss was also aware of this; corporate social responsibility is a selling point!
Your correspondents plan was simple; Take a flight to Berbera and visit the grave of Boodhari (Hi Basra!,)then Hargeisa ( the capital of people with the name Waraabe); have you wondered why a city with beautiful people nickname handsome men as Waraabe? , take a car to Amoud- the cradle of Somali education (Samatar, Goth and the late Jowhar were all born here; unfortunately, the horrible roads claimed the life of Jowhar a few weeks ago).
Then the plan was to travel all the way to the suuro capital of Somalia, Garoowe. Your correspondent was in this buzzing city many times and has always being struck by the female suuro; even your own mother will apply it on you! If it is possible, he planned to visit Bender Qasim on the coast before his visit to Xamar where he hoped to visit Avvicena/Lamagoodle land; suuqa mijiska, Ali Aliyow, Baar Beking triangle. With the onset of the folly dynamics that has engulfed our nation and turned brother against brother, your correspondent was aware that he will not be able to witness the evening activities of “throwing arrows at shoes”. Avvicena and others from Hawl Wadaag will remember this! Not even a visit to Dayniile, Ulteriormotives obosiibo
Galkacyo and the oasis of peace Afbarwaaqo (Abdiwahab-land) was not feasible; sorry abti , sheep country visit will be another time.
Gedo and Bay were out of the question. No visit to Baardheere, Luuq Ganaan! Ideally, it would have been easy to travel from Luuq, through Dhuusaaye, Geedweyne, Doolo, Malka mare, Buulo Xaawo and all the way to the NFD but this will be suicidal since these areas are under the command of dark forces; ahlu suntan, Al-sheydhaan, Ethiopian and Kenyan lackeys!
So, was the case for Shabeelada Hoose; My buddy Twist’s native soil; No shalambood, No Ceel Jaalle, No Minin Aw cismaan ninkii moodo miskiin waaye! Not even to Qoryooleey, Kuntur Waareey, Malable, Mareerey!
So, is the Miser capital of somalia; Kismaayo ama kistaada? No visit to Bilis Qooqaani, Buaale, Afmadoow ,
Grant, also the xaramka, the burial place of sheikh Nuur xuseen, the cradle of spiritual civilization was ruled out!
Hence your correspondent’s journey to the motherland commenced or so he thought!
There is an old cliché ( could be even a saying) which states; Man proposes and God exposes/disposes!
Just as your correspondent was in transit in Kamal Attaturk Airport to Dubai, the phone rang; it was my boss. Apparently, two of your correspondents’ colleagues were involved in a car accident; back to square one! You should be in office tomorrow was the command. These two colleagues were to visit Uzbekistan and Kirgizstan. Since, they cannot travel you should!
Angry, heartbroken and melancholically your correspondent went to the counter of Turkish airways and enquired about the next plane back to.....
On the plane he couldn't help but recite Hadraawi’s Beledweyne:
sow bayd go'aygii
layguma bushaarayn.
maantaa la baxayaa
bulshadii imay odhan.
sow waa bestayoo
socod beegsan maayee
Ina baaja caawoo
I baxnaansha maan odhan
sow taliye baasoo
ba' anoo war moogi
taydii ma beeneyn
sow badiba kooxdii
goortay badheedheen
baabuurka fuuleen
ana baal kamaan korin
boholyow daraaddii
sow baraq nuglaantii
balo lagu ducaystiyo
baryo kuma maqnaynoo
biri may xumaatoo
baadroolka daadsho
ka wadaa bukoodoo
bogsan waayo maan odhan
Everyone is doing good Alhamdulilah. 
