Limit to submission; a documentary

[Lamagoodle]

This is a documentary by Dr. Hussein Mohamed Aden ( one of the greatest somali scholars), a Tanzanian somali. Although the quality of the videos are not that good, the research underlying the documentary and the message is excellent. His dad is from Hawd and he asks the question whether there is a limit to submission.

Dr Hussein puts the plight of refugees in an historical context and discusses some of the impacts of the refugees on the rlimited resources of the nation.

It was taped in 1980.

Is the guy at 14,46 Ahmed Silaanyo? Good english and analytical ability.

Almost everyone interviewed is calm, factual and humble; something that eludes us today.

[FieldMarshalMenace]

I swear to god that I am related to through blood and I am responsible for that video ...back in 2007 while having a political lesson from him he mention to me that he once made a documentary and that the video is just sittin at his home. I pleaded with him to mail it to me and true to his words he mail it to me. I handed the cassette video to this studio run by this guy who was recently working in the communication department Of the Somali government (he was part of the group that brought back SNTV on the air ) but who owned a studio here in town.

I asked him to make a copy for me but when I came back to him a week later this guy begged for him to upload it on YouTube. I refused and then he contacts my family members to persuade me to let him. I let him ( back in 2007 YouTube was the farthest thing from my mind). Since then I've regretted letting him upload it bc I could've had on my YouTube channel now.

Btw

uncle Hussein Tanzania lives in Boston

He teaches at the Holly Cross

He was the first Somali to attended Harvard

He was best friends with the late Professor Ali mazrui

He is Ciidagale, reer Guuleed

His mother is Indian-African

He taught at Uni of Lafoole back in the 70s

[PrinceDaadi]

Very informative documentary, when ever i feel down as a Somali i watch and I like when he day " and I m Somali" those are powerful words.

[GeoSeven]

Jaalle, I remember watching this documentary years ago, when my optimism was unadulterated by in depth knowledge of the Somali politics. When my perception of Somalia was still heavily influenced by the positive stories nostalgic family members told.

[Lamagoodle]

Menance, you are right about everything. You are good. How is his family? I know them very well.

Is the guy at 14.50 Silaanyo?

This is his blog:
http://drhusseinadam.blogspot.se/
You could find some of his book.

He has also published several articles in prestigious journals.

Yeah, he was a protege of Prof Ali Mazrui.


Princedaadi. Waa runtaa. I am always reminded that the world views me " a somali".

Geo. There is a nostalgic aspect; 1960-1985 were the years everything appeared to be great. Democracy, mobilisation, communism, education and somali nationalism all at once. There were problems but these were tiny by today's standards.

[Lamagoodle]

This is what Said S. Samatar wrote in 2007

"Good evening, colleagues and comrades.
We gather here tonight to celebrate a legendary life, to renew old friendships, and to make new ones.

The title of my remarks goes something like this:
HUSSEIN ADAM: How an ordinary Boy became an extraordinary man

But first, a disclaimer on behalf of Hussein Adam. He did not want this trouble. He was dragged into it, kicking and screaming. He did agree that it is time that Somalis learned to honor their own, but he wanted the honoring to go to someone else. So, he rattled out a string of names—what about so and so?

No, I ain’t interested, I replied.
What about this, that or the other?
No, I ain’t interested.

Special Event for Dr. Hussein Adam "Tanzani"

Tribute to Dr. Hussein Adam - Coutessy of Bartamaha.com


After six months of speechifying in which I talked at him, around, over him, under him, the man began to fear I might talk the hind legs off him. So reluctantly, he finally relented, and I rejoiced!

I’d like to start, if I may, with a Somali cautionary tale:

Waxaa la yiri: Shimbiri maalin bay dabqaaday, maalintiina Gurigii hooyadeed bay gubtay

Translation: Once upon a time a bird tried to do something good for her mother by offering to transport the fire for the family, and she ended up burning down her mother’s house.

This is the first time, ever, that I’ve tried to do something good. And I hope I don’t end up burning down your house, Hussein!

To go back to the beginnings: In the lush green valley on the foothills of Mount Mero, 50 miles away from Hemmingway’s “The Snows of Kilimanjaro,” in the Tanzanian city of Arusha, in April 1943, a baby boy was born of a Somali father from Hargeisa and a mother with a mixed pedigree of a Masai woman and an Indian Muslim. Exotic, isn’t it? The boy was a Madi, Somali for “an-only child,” and yet he was destined to make up for that “deprivation” by siring 7 children—children who, now as grownups, are in their turn busy siring. This means that Hussein will have increased the Somali population by no mean percentage. Talk about psychology!

According to my passport—nobody knows for sure the year of my birth because I was born among the camels and camels do not keep records--according to the arbitrary date on my passport, I too, was born in 1943. Obviously, genius has an excellent sense of timing. Thus, 1943 heralded the birth of two stars.

Being raised in a strange land necessarily involves growing-hazards.Dr. Adam reminisces about one particularly traumatic experience when he was a school boy. I quote it verbatim from the notes he provided me with:

“One of the memorable moments of my life took place when I was in the 4th grade. During the usual school parade, the African headmaster asked four of us Somali students to step up to the front of the parade. He then proceeded to humiliate us in front of the whole school. He chided us with the following words that have been ingrained in my memory: “Look carefully at these 4 beggars. They are begging us to stay in our paradise, green land of (the then) Tanganyika. This is because they have no land to go to. A friend who fought in the war [WWII] visited Somali areas and confirmed to me that there is nothing but desert sand, sand and sand; and a very hot sun. They should thank us for saving them from the sandy hot desert.”

Being mocked in front of an unruly mob of school boys is devastating enough; but when the mocker is the supreme authority Figure who is looked up to as to a god, the impact on a young sensitive child can be a shattering of a kind that leaves a permanent wound.

But the boy was gifted with an inner strength, in truth a steely hardihood that was to stand him in good stead throughout his life. Instead of being crushed emotionally, he characteristically, responded with an in-your-face gesture of defiance. He recollects:

“It was at that public humiliation moment that I resolved to love sand and deserts. I resolved that at the end of my studies, however long it takes, I would go straight to help Somalia even though I did not even speak Somali, whereas my Swahili was more than excellent. The humiliation made me love everything Somali: the beaches and the sand, the anthills, cities like Mogadishu, Hargeisa, Burao, Beled Wein, Bosaso and Garowe, and [also] love the food, and above all, really love Somali women!!!” Amen, brother, I second that sentiment!

For the gift of Hussein, we have that Bantu headmaster to thank. Here a vignette may be worth telling: during the height of the Spanish Inquisition, the Muslims and Jews of Spain were confronted with three stark choices: convert to Christianity, be exiled, or worse still, be put to death. The Muslims retreated to their sanctuaries in North Africa. But Jews had nowhere to go. Then in an episode that both testifies to the liberal tolerance of the classical age of Islam and the debt Jews owe to Islam, the Ottoman Sultan Bayezid II (r. 1481-1512) invited the hapless Jews to settle in his dominions in complete religious freedom, with the rider to the Spanish king: what kind of sovereign is it that “impoverishes” his kingdom, while “enriching mine” by dispatching the best of his citizens “to me?” By analogy, what kind of Headmaster is it that impoverishes Tanzania, while enriching Somalia by sending Hussein to the latter?

At his secondary school: “there was a lot of bullying. Fortunately I was protected by Ismail Okash, Head Prefect, a fellow Somali from the Ogaden.” Despite the bullying and general brutalities—brutalities that included being bounced out of bed at 5:00am in order to till the land for the school elite--he graduated at the top of his class, and then sat for the Cambridge-administered exams wherein he scored six distinctions and one credit.
On account of that impressive scholastic achievement, a letter came one day from out of the blue, containing an offer of a scholarship to Princeton—Ivy League Princeton, Woodrow Wilson Princeton.

At Princeton the boy from Arusha came to rub shoulders with, among others, the eminent General Muhammad Abshir Haamaan, founder and commander of the Somali police force, which was judged at that time as one of the best in Africa.

The rest is history, BA from Princeton, MA from Makerere - Makerere then was referred to as the Oxford of East Africa. Another MA from Harvard, then the icing on the cake: a PhD. Dissertation title: “The Social and Political Thought of Frantz Fanon.” You remember Fanon? The titan in African thought? But then it takes a titan to tackle a titan! With the Harvard PhD, Hussein Adam must surely have scored a stunning first—the first Somali to earn a doctorate from that super-prestigious institution.

Dr. Adam’s professional career is too vast to recount. A few highlights: in addition to his formal degrees, he received diplomas or attended seminars at the following: Institute of Social Studies, at The Hague, Holland, American University, Cairo, University of Paris, (I did not know, Hussein that you got mixed up with the French, too, and are French-speaking!)

By turns he taught at the following: Makerere University College, Somali National University, where he helped and educated a generation of Somalis, Brandeis University, and last but certainly not least, the College of the Holy Cross where he serves as a distinguished member of that University’s department of political science.

Impressive scholarly output, too: author, co-author or editor of , by my count, 9 books, the latest just hot off the Red Sea Press entitled FROM TYRANNY TO ANARCHY: The Somali Experience. If it is on display at the Red Sea Press book stalls on campus, don’t leave home without it. Scores of essays in learned journals; book chapters galore. Awesome. Dr. Adam’s academic honors and awards are equally too numerous to recount. I will not even bother to go there, nor will I wander into his extra-scholastic stints, like his tenure with the U.N. as a consultant and his role in the formation of IGAD—Inter-governmental Authority on Development.

Hussein officially migrated to his beloved Somalia in 1974, where he began a new life in new country. As it turned out, beloved Somalia was not always kind to him. During the long reign of Muhammad Siad Barre, he was repeatedly passed over for government positions worthy of his stature. Repeatedly, year after year, illiterates were appointed to choice ministerial posts on account of their ethnic connections, while the Harvard don looked on. If that jackal that went by the name of Siad Barre had a drop of patriotism in his blood, he’d have appointed Hussein, at least, ambassador plenipotentiary to the three East African countries of Uganda, Kenya and Tanzania. With his native Swahili, exceptional learning and urbane manners, diplomatically he’d have run circles around the bloody Abyssinians, and Somalia might have been spared the fate that was to befall her.

If there ever was a man with grounds for grievance and bitterness, it is Hussein. But he took it all in stride with grace, and without bitterness or grudges. And that, ladies and gentlemen, bespeaks character, it is the distinguishing mark of noble substance. But in a sense this injustice might have been a blessing in disguise. If he had gotten embroiled in the world of politics, he would have been lost to that of Somali education, where scores of Somali students have learned from his giving nature. He gave much and received little in return.

By the way, lest some of you think that I am given to singing panegyrics, may I remind you that Hussein and I have had a few guerrilla skirmishings, which on occasion flared up into a veritable sniping. For example, he once called me an opportunist. I won’t tell you what I called him to return the favor!

The ancient Greeks used to take it as a verity that pain and suffering lead to redemptive wisdom. If so, maybe what followed in Hussein’s life would have a meaning. He was going from success to success, living the dream life with his family, when abruptly his world came crushing down around his ears. In 2002, disaster struck. His beloved wife, Faadumo, suddenly succumbed to a coma. Instead of ditching her in a morbid hospital bed, as surely many would do, he took her home where he has been ministering to her needs to the present. And this, in spite of a full schedule of teaching, researching and writing. After all, the man is the bread winner of the family. Again, that bespeaks character, substance, grace. In other words, Hussein was plunged into the fiery furnace of tragedy a mere man, and emerged a hero.

As the English bard reminds us—it turns out that Shakespeare was a pot head; when they recently examined his pipe, it wreaked of reefer scent—as the English bard reminds us “Some (men) are born great, some acquire greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them.” Undoubtedly, by his gallant response to the calamity that befell his family, Hussein has acquired greatness. And don’t be fooled by his frail seeming demeanor. The man is made of steel, with an abundance of inner fortitude and with a wealth of prodigious energies.

To sum up: In Hussein, we have a man, a father, an educator, a scholar of unparalleled versatility, and a patriot—in short a national treasure. Hussein, I salute you. Please rise to receive a token, a certificate of appreciation that I offer in the name of the SSIA. It reads:

SPECIAL EVENT IN HONOR OF
HUSSEIN ADAM

The Somali Studies International Association (SSIA) is pleased to offer you this token of appreciation in grateful recognition of your patriotic contribution to Somali national life and in respectful observance of your role as the FOUNDING FATHER of the SSIA

[samatar133]

Greet documentary . I have seen it many years ago.

Jaalemarx, the guy at 14:50 is Siilaanyo and the guy at 5:00 is Cabdimajiid Xuseen, the architect of the current DDS, kililka 5aad ee ethiopia, politcal system, and the former Ethiopian ambassador to UN.

Menace, is Hussein Tanzania your maternal uncle?

[STARKAST]

Always enjoyed this documentary, lovely..

Menace, you ought to interview him - recollections and reflections on this video ?

[FieldMarshalMenace]

This is what Said S. Samatar wrote in 2007

"Good evening, colleagues and comrades.
We gather here tonight to celebrate a legendary life, to renew old friendships, and to make new ones.

The title of my remarks goes something like this:
HUSSEIN ADAM: How an ordinary Boy became an extraordinary man

But first, a disclaimer on behalf of Hussein Adam. He did not want this trouble. He was dragged into it, kicking and screaming. He did agree that it is time that Somalis learned to honor their own, but he wanted the honoring to go to someone else. So, he rattled out a string of names—what about so and so?

No, I ain’t interested, I replied.
What about this, that or the other?
No, I ain’t interested.

Special Event for Dr. Hussein Adam "Tanzani"

Tribute to Dr. Hussein Adam - Coutessy of Bartamaha.com


After six months of speechifying in which I talked at him, around, over him, under him, the man began to fear I might talk the hind legs off him. So reluctantly, he finally relented, and I rejoiced!

I’d like to start, if I may, with a Somali cautionary tale:

Waxaa la yiri: Shimbiri maalin bay dabqaaday, maalintiina Gurigii hooyadeed bay gubtay

Translation: Once upon a time a bird tried to do something good for her mother by offering to transport the fire for the family, and she ended up burning down her mother’s house.

This is the first time, ever, that I’ve tried to do something good. And I hope I don’t end up burning down your house, Hussein!

To go back to the beginnings: In the lush green valley on the foothills of Mount Mero, 50 miles away from Hemmingway’s “The Snows of Kilimanjaro,” in the Tanzanian city of Arusha, in April 1943, a baby boy was born of a Somali father from Hargeisa and a mother with a mixed pedigree of a Masai woman and an Indian Muslim. Exotic, isn’t it? The boy was a Madi, Somali for “an-only child,” and yet he was destined to make up for that “deprivation” by siring 7 children—children who, now as grownups, are in their turn busy siring. This means that Hussein will have increased the Somali population by no mean percentage. Talk about psychology!

According to my passport—nobody knows for sure the year of my birth because I was born among the camels and camels do not keep records--according to the arbitrary date on my passport, I too, was born in 1943. Obviously, genius has an excellent sense of timing. Thus, 1943 heralded the birth of two stars.

Being raised in a strange land necessarily involves growing-hazards.Dr. Adam reminisces about one particularly traumatic experience when he was a school boy. I quote it verbatim from the notes he provided me with:

“One of the memorable moments of my life took place when I was in the 4th grade. During the usual school parade, the African headmaster asked four of us Somali students to step up to the front of the parade. He then proceeded to humiliate us in front of the whole school. He chided us with the following words that have been ingrained in my memory: “Look carefully at these 4 beggars. They are begging us to stay in our paradise, green land of (the then) Tanganyika. This is because they have no land to go to. A friend who fought in the war [WWII] visited Somali areas and confirmed to me that there is nothing but desert sand, sand and sand; and a very hot sun. They should thank us for saving them from the sandy hot desert.”

Being mocked in front of an unruly mob of school boys is devastating enough; but when the mocker is the supreme authority Figure who is looked up to as to a god, the impact on a young sensitive child can be a shattering of a kind that leaves a permanent wound.

But the boy was gifted with an inner strength, in truth a steely hardihood that was to stand him in good stead throughout his life. Instead of being crushed emotionally, he characteristically, responded with an in-your-face gesture of defiance. He recollects:

“It was at that public humiliation moment that I resolved to love sand and deserts. I resolved that at the end of my studies, however long it takes, I would go straight to help Somalia even though I did not even speak Somali, whereas my Swahili was more than excellent. The humiliation made me love everything Somali: the beaches and the sand, the anthills, cities like Mogadishu, Hargeisa, Burao, Beled Wein, Bosaso and Garowe, and [also] love the food, and above all, really love Somali women!!!” Amen, brother, I second that sentiment!

For the gift of Hussein, we have that Bantu headmaster to thank. Here a vignette may be worth telling: during the height of the Spanish Inquisition, the Muslims and Jews of Spain were confronted with three stark choices: convert to Christianity, be exiled, or worse still, be put to death. The Muslims retreated to their sanctuaries in North Africa. But Jews had nowhere to go. Then in an episode that both testifies to the liberal tolerance of the classical age of Islam and the debt Jews owe to Islam, the Ottoman Sultan Bayezid II (r. 1481-1512) invited the hapless Jews to settle in his dominions in complete religious freedom, with the rider to the Spanish king: what kind of sovereign is it that “impoverishes” his kingdom, while “enriching mine” by dispatching the best of his citizens “to me?” By analogy, what kind of Headmaster is it that impoverishes Tanzania, while enriching Somalia by sending Hussein to the latter?

At his secondary school: “there was a lot of bullying. Fortunately I was protected by Ismail Okash, Head Prefect, a fellow Somali from the Ogaden.” Despite the bullying and general brutalities—brutalities that included being bounced out of bed at 5:00am in order to till the land for the school elite--he graduated at the top of his class, and then sat for the Cambridge-administered exams wherein he scored six distinctions and one credit.
On account of that impressive scholastic achievement, a letter came one day from out of the blue, containing an offer of a scholarship to Princeton—Ivy League Princeton, Woodrow Wilson Princeton.

At Princeton the boy from Arusha came to rub shoulders with, among others, the eminent General Muhammad Abshir Haamaan, founder and commander of the Somali police force, which was judged at that time as one of the best in Africa.

The rest is history, BA from Princeton, MA from Makerere - Makerere then was referred to as the Oxford of East Africa. Another MA from Harvard, then the icing on the cake: a PhD. Dissertation title: “The Social and Political Thought of Frantz Fanon.” You remember Fanon? The titan in African thought? But then it takes a titan to tackle a titan! With the Harvard PhD, Hussein Adam must surely have scored a stunning first—the first Somali to earn a doctorate from that super-prestigious institution.

Dr. Adam’s professional career is too vast to recount. A few highlights: in addition to his formal degrees, he received diplomas or attended seminars at the following: Institute of Social Studies, at The Hague, Holland, American University, Cairo, University of Paris, (I did not know, Hussein that you got mixed up with the French, too, and are French-speaking!)

By turns he taught at the following: Makerere University College, Somali National University, where he helped and educated a generation of Somalis, Brandeis University, and last but certainly not least, the College of the Holy Cross where he serves as a distinguished member of that University’s department of political science.

Impressive scholarly output, too: author, co-author or editor of , by my count, 9 books, the latest just hot off the Red Sea Press entitled FROM TYRANNY TO ANARCHY: The Somali Experience. If it is on display at the Red Sea Press book stalls on campus, don’t leave home without it. Scores of essays in learned journals; book chapters galore. Awesome. Dr. Adam’s academic honors and awards are equally too numerous to recount. I will not even bother to go there, nor will I wander into his extra-scholastic stints, like his tenure with the U.N. as a consultant and his role in the formation of IGAD—Inter-governmental Authority on Development.

Hussein officially migrated to his beloved Somalia in 1974, where he began a new life in new country. As it turned out, beloved Somalia was not always kind to him. During the long reign of Muhammad Siad Barre, he was repeatedly passed over for government positions worthy of his stature. Repeatedly, year after year, illiterates were appointed to choice ministerial posts on account of their ethnic connections, while the Harvard don looked on. If that jackal that went by the name of Siad Barre had a drop of patriotism in his blood, he’d have appointed Hussein, at least, ambassador plenipotentiary to the three East African countries of Uganda, Kenya and Tanzania. With his native Swahili, exceptional learning and urbane manners, diplomatically he’d have run circles around the bloody Abyssinians, and Somalia might have been spared the fate that was to befall her.

If there ever was a man with grounds for grievance and bitterness, it is Hussein. But he took it all in stride with grace, and without bitterness or grudges. And that, ladies and gentlemen, bespeaks character, it is the distinguishing mark of noble substance. But in a sense this injustice might have been a blessing in disguise. If he had gotten embroiled in the world of politics, he would have been lost to that of Somali education, where scores of Somali students have learned from his giving nature. He gave much and received little in return.

By the way, lest some of you think that I am given to singing panegyrics, may I remind you that Hussein and I have had a few guerrilla skirmishings, which on occasion flared up into a veritable sniping. For example, he once called me an opportunist. I won’t tell you what I called him to return the favor!

The ancient Greeks used to take it as a verity that pain and suffering lead to redemptive wisdom. If so, maybe what followed in Hussein’s life would have a meaning. He was going from success to success, living the dream life with his family, when abruptly his world came crushing down around his ears. In 2002, disaster struck. His beloved wife, Faadumo, suddenly succumbed to a coma. Instead of ditching her in a morbid hospital bed, as surely many would do, he took her home where he has been ministering to her needs to the present. And this, in spite of a full schedule of teaching, researching and writing. After all, the man is the bread winner of the family. Again, that bespeaks character, substance, grace. In other words, Hussein was plunged into the fiery furnace of tragedy a mere man, and emerged a hero.

As the English bard reminds us—it turns out that Shakespeare was a pot head; when they recently examined his pipe, it wreaked of reefer scent—as the English bard reminds us “Some (men) are born great, some acquire greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them.” Undoubtedly, by his gallant response to the calamity that befell his family, Hussein has acquired greatness. And don’t be fooled by his frail seeming demeanor. The man is made of steel, with an abundance of inner fortitude and with a wealth of prodigious energies.

To sum up: In Hussein, we have a man, a father, an educator, a scholar of unparalleled versatility, and a patriot—in short a national treasure. Hussein, I salute you. Please rise to receive a token, a certificate of appreciation that I offer in the name of the SSIA. It reads:

SPECIAL EVENT IN HONOR OF
HUSSEIN ADAM

The Somali Studies International Association (SSIA) is pleased to offer you this token of appreciation in grateful recognition of your patriotic contribution to Somali national life and in respectful observance of your role as the FOUNDING FATHER of the SSIA

I was indeed present at this particular event..took place at OSU...Ahmed Samatar of MN was there as well ...Said Samatar of Rutgers was indeed there and gave that talk...if you watch that video then you'll see Dr Hussein acknowledge us and we were made to stand up ..

[FieldMarshalMenace]

Always enjoyed this documentary, lovely..

Menace, you ought to interview him - recollections and reflections on this video ?

Ill interview him as long as you folks give me the questions...I actually will see him I inshalah in a Month's time

[Lamagoodle]

FieldMarshall,
I am impressed that you know a man of a high calibre such as Dr. Hussein.

So you attended Ohio State? Do you know any somali graduate from Case Western Reserve University, in Cleveland?

[FieldMarshalMenace]

FieldMarshall,
I am impressed that you know a man of a high calibre such as Dr. Hussein.

So you attended Ohio State? Do you know any somali graduate from Case Western Reserve University, in Cleveland?

r u abt to get married to Ebla...she attended OSU wth me ..,but went on to Case Reserve..,

Btw I repeat , I don't only know Dr Hussein, we are family

[ciddhartha]

uncle Hussein Tanzania lives in Boston

He teaches at the Holly Cross

He lives in Worcester, which is where Holy Cross is located.

[Lamagoodle]

FieldMarshall,
I am impressed that you know a man of a high calibre such as Dr. Hussein.

So you attended Ohio State? Do you know any somali graduate from Case Western Reserve University, in Cleveland?

r u abt to get married to Ebla...she attended OSU wth me ..,but went on to Case Reserve..,

Btw I repeat , I don't only know Dr Hussein, we are family

Menace, I am impressed again. Yes, you told me you are related to Dr. Hussein. I read alot of his work and we share a history.

Nin libaax baad tahay. You seem to know every xaawo on earth and every great somali

[FieldMarshalMenace]

uncle Hussein Tanzania lives in Boston

He teaches at the Holly Cross

He lives in Worcester, which is where Holy Cross is located.

Ninyahoow what did you accomplish?..you restated what I initially stated...duhh! holly cross is located in Worcester