The phone call

[Lamagoodle]

Deeqa,
Tokyo, ceel hindi, suuqa mijiska waa meelahaan ka qaraabin jirey as a boy.

Heestaan dhageyso; waa Siciid mire Xaydar, the best somali voice Allah created ever; meelaha uu xamar ka sheegayo

[GeoSeven]

To convince her, he moves closer to her. He holds her firmly, gives her a hug on both sides of her cheek”

She holds his jaamac; he pushes her. It was rape but hard to prove in a court of law; she is in a hotel room rented by him. She is a woman and could claim that he is the rapist.

He finds himself all the quran that he remembers....

[Lamagoodle]

To convince her, he moves closer to her. He holds her firmly, gives her a hug on both sides of her cheek”

She holds his jaamac; he pushes her. It was rape but hard to prove in a court of law; she is in a hotel room rented by him. She is a woman and could claim that he is the rapist.

He finds himself all the quran that he remembers....

Geo, I wrote that episode when my connecting flight was cancelled. I just wrote without thinking about my readers. I felt so that I had to send some money to Mandera to dig a well.

[Lamagoodle]

Dear Methylamine and other readers: This is the final part.

Jeelle’s goal was to get out of the hotel room. A few minutes ago, he had gained a short-term respite after promising to postpone the fun for tomorrow.

He started blaming himself; why the hell did he take thirsty Ayan to his hotel room? What would have happened if she claimed that he raped her? Did she think he was a thirsty Faarax?

Ayaan did not probably know that Germany is the sex industry’s mecca where a quickie is just around every corner. Or was it the case that there was a genuine attraction? Maybe, this was just a case of a young somali woman who thought the grass was greener on the other side by marrying a non-somali only to find that it was not. She probably wanted a liberal somali who wouldn’t condemn her.

In any case, he decided that this would probably the last time he took Ayaan to a secluded room.

It is now time to meet Jamiila. To conclude the mission that started decades ago in peaceful Mogadishu when she told him “noocaaga lama sheekeysto”.

Hideous thoughts overcame him just before they entered the car. This should be payback time.

Imagine, walking into Jamiila’s home with Ayaan in his arms? Imagine, if he could just say hi, mock her obesity, describe her as an ugly hag and call her “eedo”? That will do it. At the same time, that might send wrong signals to Ayaan.

Oh God. I did not travel to be part of a triangle drama. He found himself murmuring.

So, Ayaan tell me about your mom? I have not seen her in decades. Is she married? What does she do for a living?

Aboowe, Mom was married several times. She is a divorcee. She is not working and qaad has become her life companion.
I see. I am looking forward to meeting her and to go on memory lane. We have a lot to talk about. Xamar and much more.

As they approached the estate, Jeelle had made his mind. He will be with them for a maximum two hours. Chat about Xamar. Claim that he will meet an old friend at Piccadilly circus. If Ayaan insists on accompanying him, he would convince her that tomorrow will be her day. He planned to take the earliest flight to Frankfurt. He will put behind this episode of his life.

When they arrived at the house, a florid, corpulent woman stood in front of them with heavy breasts and an ample bottom.
It was Jamiila. She was very different. She was no longer the beauty she once was.

Jamiila's chest almost mocked her stout frame. Her eyes looked as if they were wavering around the bosom as they followed the contours of her body that curved pleasantly inward, lightly cinched at the waist. They appeared to be moving outward as the invisible line caressed the thickness of her thighs and the inoffensive large, rounded derriere.

Years of chewing qaad had left their marks on her teeth. They looked like a disused cemetery on the edge of a swamp; all crooked and leaning on each other, some chipped or missing all together, with a mossy texture that almost hid the original form underneath.

The rotten teeth phenomenon is common in the Somali community and therefore, to Jeelle this was not a big deal.

However, Jamiila’s teeth reflected the color of tombstones, grey and splotchy with gold, green, and rust colored lichen.

Jeelle and Jamiila hugged. He could smell her breath and almost hear and see the impact of Qaad; the peepers and frogs, these scent was so reminiscent of the rot of a bog as the song goes.

Seed tahay aboowe? Maasha weli wiiil yar ayaad tahaye?

Nabad walaal. Adigaba waad yar tahay? Replied Jeelle not wanting to sound rude.

Soo gal walaal, she said leading him to what appeared to be the sitting room.

As she pushed the door open, he could hear a crack, but it refused to go any further. Jeelle saw the cause: a mountain of dirty laundry stuffed up against it. Jamiila deftly using her feet to free the door as Jeelle saw the full horror of her life.

There was a dirty fadhi-carbeed piled high with papers. A half-eaten hamburger and French fries lay on the chipped blue plate atop a dusty table accompanied by two empty coke cans.

Whatever happened to the previous upper-class woman? The beauty from Xamar?

Everything about her was different.

Jeelle decided this meeting should be as short as possible. Not the two hours that he planned previously but a few minutes.

He knew that Jamiila will insist on dinner but the thought of eating dinner in this house made him almost throw up.

Ii waran walaal? He asked.

Fiicaan aboowe. I sug shaah iyo casho ayaan soo diyaarinyaa.

Maya walaal. Waa waqti dambe. Waxaan aadayaa Piccadilly circus si aan ula kulmo nin aan isla shaqeeyno oo beri baxaayo. Maadaama aan guriga arkey beri ayaan kuu imanaayaa.

Aboowe, see waaye? Bal fadhiiso. Casheey horta.

Maya walaal. Waa arrin muhiim ah. Haddii aad soo jeedid caawa hataa waan imaan karaa.

Ok. Soo noqo. Waan soo jeedaa.

Waa tahay waa inoo hadhow.

Ayaan: Let me give you a lift.

No, there is no need. I will take the tube. I need fresh air so I will walk to Harlesden station.

Are you sure?

Yes. I will see you in an hour.

And there my readers ends this story..

[Ismail87]

I will see you in an hour he said while he secretly booked the earliest ticket back to Frankfurt on the Lufthansa mobile app

Jaalle, what is the moral of this story? Ha isku daalin qof hore kuu xumeeyey miyaa tolow?

[YummyMummy]

[quote="Ismail87"]I will see you in an hour he said while he secretly booked the earliest ticket back to Frankfurt on the Lufthansa mobile app /quote]




Jaalle, this is your best writing so far, seriously. It's a comedy but I am kind of moved, reading about the status of Jamila and her decline, and Jeelle's thoughts of revenge and his reaction now. It's very true and reminds me of some situations I have come across myself, how people have changed and your interactions with them naturally changes, though you both may still be nostalgic about the past.

[Lamagoodle]

Ismaciil
The moral of the story; Every dog has its own day.

No, no, just kidding

The moral of the story; try to be humble to others because we don’t know what the road ahead may hold.


Yummmy, care to share with us your experience?

[Vivacious]

Ok. Not what I had expected about Jamiila. Damn!

[Lamagoodle]

Ok. Not what I had expected about Jamiila. Damn!

Deeqoy, ma waxaad fileeysay inaay noqoto naag isku dhaceeyso?

[YummyMummy]

Yummmy, care to share with us your experience?

Just old friends, people you went to school with or grew up with Years later when you meet, thinking you can just pick up from where you left off, and actually realise that apart from the past there really isn't that much to discuss So much has changed and happened since, that you are like strangers to one another.

[VeiledGarbasar]

Haasha kulilah, and that my children is called a story.

And now we know why she has been 3 times divorced.

Lamo/Jalle,

Oo maxaad igu sheegi waysay? I went to miinjiska, Tokyo, jiro garoob and surrounding areas. I lived around those areas.

As always I love your stories.

[Lamagoodle]

Yummmy, care to share with us your experience?

Just old friends, people you went to school with or grew up with Years later when you meet, thinking you can just pick up from where you left off, and actually realise that apart from the past there really isn't that much to discuss So much has changed and happened since, that you are like strangers to one another.

True. I recently met a woman that I went to school with. I have not forgotten what we did, our neighbours, our classmates, her family etc. I had tonnes of stories to share with her when I meet her. I was thinking that 3 days will not be enough to go on memory lane. When I met her, she did told me that she did not remember anything. She could not even remember me much other than being the bright guy in class and stealing her candy. We were done after 5 minutes. Anticlimax.

[Lamagoodle]

Haasha kulilah, and that my children is called a story.

And now we know why she has been 3 times divorced.

Lamo/Jalle,

Oo maxaad igu sheegi waysay? I went to miinjiska, Tokyo, jiro garoob and surrounding areas. I lived around those areas.

As always I love your stories.

Mijiska. I loved that place; it was a small market. In the afternoons a few meters from there, you could go and watch men throwing arrows and targeting shoes. Tokyo bacaadkeeda was wonderful. There were also small restaurants that cooked the most delicious cod/salmon.

LOL@@@@@@@@@@jiiro garoob. You know what? Xamar used to have geeda jaceeylka in every area; when there is an accident involving a man/boy and a woman/girl , the scene of the accident was called geedka jaceylka

[Marques]

Missed this thread. Gonna re-read the sheeko lol..

[Lamagoodle]

Missed this thread. Gonna re-read the sheeko lol..

Marques, I expect your honest review adeer. I am planning to create a blogg and put up this story; I would ask ppl to donate some money for water wells in somalia.