The little town that could.

[barbarossa]

Bursalah, or Burar, as it is sometimes called, is a crimson, little sandy town, deep in the Mudug hinterland, and mere thirty kilometres or so removed from the Abyssinian border. This was not long ago a tiny village with pre-civil population of no more than thousand inhabitants at most, but has, for last decade, been increasing exponentially both in terms of size and population, and is now a home to some sixteen thousand souls according to most recent available estimate.
This little admirable town has all the amenities necessary for a town of its size. It has well maintained running water and reliable electricity. There are a number of schools ranging from primary to secondary level and at least one specialized and geared towards adult learning and institute for Islamic studies. There is also considerable number of hospitals both public and private and chief among them is Bursalah General Hospital, as well Bursalah MCH for mothers and children.
There is no denying that Bursalah has made a spectacular and impressive transformation, in a manner of few years, from a little known village, situated by Fate, in what is arguably, (geographically, at least,) in one of the least hospitable environment, in a part of the world certainly considered by many anything but hospitable, to a thriving sizable town, enjoying relative peace and prosperity, in a region where both are often in short supply.
Bursalah is now, once again, in the mist of yet another housing boom, due mainly to an influx of new resident who apparently made the right call and chose to call it home. These folks hail from all parts of greater Somalia and are made up of all Somali clans. In fact, a well-placed town official has told me, off the record, that Bursalah has currently some thirty six different clans among its residents, a fact he took no small pride in, as was easily discernible on his radiant face.
I can think of no other country on earth, Somalia excepted, where clan composition was part and parcel of overall city planning and figures were actually kept for statistical purposes. Another indication I suppose, if indeed, one was needed, of how clan sentiments predominate all other aspect of our culture. I often wonder why we, Somalis, don’t mould an idol out of clay or some other such material fit for a god, as a symbolic image of a deity much closer to our collective hearts and named Clan and worship Him as sovereign god of the land, instead of pretending to belong to one we have got little or nothing to do with and in the process make a mockery of Islam. I crave your pardon for the lengthy digression and return to the subject at hand.
Is it not much to be regretted that despite the considerable strides that Bursalah has made in it progression, this thriving town has the misfortune of being deemed, by the powers that be, no less, ‘not big enough’ in size, or importance, to be officially granted with the long overdue and well deserved title of degmo or municipality status? And as a direct consequence still remains under the jurisdiction of its nearby elder sister town of Goldogob.
In conclusion, I would like to urge those whose job it is to dispense town designations to do the right thing and at once crown Bursalah with much coveted title of degmo. God knows it deserves it more than any other Somali town I know of.

[original dervish]

So list some of the clans living there.
1) Lelkase