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Well, I am travelling light, so, we might as well go to your home first, Jeelle replied
Ok. But, they may close the doors to the hotel at night and they might not let in, said Ayaan.
It was clear in the tone in her voice that she preferred taking him to the hotel.
The reason was not clear but he assumed that this was more than a token of courtesy.
Ok. Take me to the hotel then. I can check in, drop off my luggage and then visit your mom.
They came to the hotel. He checked in and within a few minutes, there were in room 346.
From the hotel window, you could see Wembley arena.
The conversation between the two was not that much. You could tell that there were differences in terms of age, reasoning etcetc.
Aboowe, you know mom talks about you a lot. You two should have been great friends back in Somalia.
Jeelle mentioned spontaneously that they were actually schoolmates and from the same area of Mogadishu. But that they were not close.
In order to change the direction of the conversation, he asked her about her life; what she did, where the father of the baby was etc
Aboowe, I married a Swedish Muslim at a young age.The father of Benjamin. We lived in Linköping. I felt homesick and wanted to come to London to live with my mother. He wanted to stay in Sweden.
I see replied Jeelle.
He knew that there was more to this story. She was probably a young woman - over by hormones- who fell for a young man against the wish of the family. She probably got pregnant and did not abort the child. In order to please her family, she had probably claimed that the guy had converted.
He speculated and speculated in his mind.
Aboowe, are you married? Asked Ayaan rather impulsively.
Out of the blues.
No
I heard that Somali men in Germany do not date Somali women. That they prefer German women; is that true?
Depends he replied.
Jeelle was a talkative but for unknown reasons, he found himself giving short answers to Ayaan’s questions.
Depends on what? She asked in a voice that begged for answers.
Depends on the persons involved. You see human beings act differently. It is difficult to generalise
Ok. Aboowe, I understand she replied embarrassingly. But in the same breath she added “ aboowe have you dated a German woman?”
Yes, of course! I have dated them!
Are you still dating?
Not at the moment. I just broke up with one.
Ok. Will you date a Somali woman who dated a gaal?
Yes, why not? He wanted to lecture her on his liberal values but he kept calm.
For the first time in the hotel room, you could see that Ayaan was smiling. A smile that manifested something.
Jeelle theorised that she probably went through tough times; she was probably disowned by the family; that she was marked for life as the woman who gave birth to a garac/wecel.
She was probably a victim of the social norms.
Back in Mogadishu in the 1980s, it was common to see interracial datings and marriages.
You could spot interracial couples holding hands on the streets. You could see them dance and kiss on the floors of the dancehalls of Hotel Jubba and Curuba . Lido iskaba daa. It was the harem for interracial couples.
There was no mystery.
In addition, many Somali men married east European women.
However, these were new times.
It is a time when the wahabi discourse has permeated into every aspect of Somali society.
It is a time when secularism has been declared non grata.
The stance against interracial relationships had also some rational clout; in times of wars, draughts and hardships human beings tend to seek comfort, safety etc from their own.
Rationalising Ayaan’s situation made him sympathetic!
So, Ayaan are you dating he asked?
No, aboowe, no one will date me !
Why? I see nothing wrong with you; you are beautiful, intelligent and mature !
With a smile that could have seen from the moon, Ayaan replied; Really aboowe?
She moved closer to him almost kissing him to show her appreciation.
Yes, you are.
By now, Jeelle was beginning to realise that he has opened a Pandora’s box.
What should he do? An innocent compliment to help her gain her confidence had become a liability to him. Maybe being philosophical will save him.
You are beautiful and intelligent abaayo!. In fact, every human being has beauty and intelligence. Said Jeelle
He found himself saying abaayo for the first time!
To my valued somalinet readers; how doyou want this story to end?
Lamgoodle wrote:
Ok. Will you date a Somali woman who dated a gaal?
Obviously she wants him for herself, I say let him go for her and forget Jamila. So ma eheen tii ku jees jeesteyn jirtay waagii xamar la joogay? Now is the perfect time for him to take revenge
Lamgoodle wrote:Yusuf and Linda were heavy smokers, smoked also something they called Ganja and were casual drinkers; Beer and German go hand in hand ; Visit Germany (specially Munchen) in October for the “oktoberfest” a 16 day orgy of beer drinking.
You seem to know your way around the best watering holes of Europe and the saloons of Xamar adeerkiis. How about I drop you a line the next time I'm in town for a wet lunch. I will show you a good time man.
Not sure it would do much for your memory though given the amnesiac qualities of whiskey. I understand this short novel is a meditation of sorts on memory. No wonder I have dementia.
Lamgoodle wrote:Faarax was always at Shirkoole officiale (officers’ mess) where alcohol consumption was the norm. But, he drunk more than he tolerated. He could walk from Shirkoole to the neigbourhood shouting profanities at everyone. One time, he went to the mosque in a drunken state and started praying behind the sheikh; at one of the sujuuds he shouted “ imaamka wuu dhuusay”.
When Faarax was drunk, every kid of the xaafada followed him around calling him “Alkooliste”. They were not threatening and sometimes appeared to enjoy the occasion. He could curse them, the kacaan and paradoxically make duca by calling on the kids to stand in a circle and raise their hands and say “ Ilaahow amxaarada naga qabo”.