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Living in a Living Horror

by Abdi-Noor Hagi Mohamed
Sunday, September 30, 2007


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The fighting between Somali transitional government and Islamic clerics is a game of horror played by evil in the stadium of revenge without a proper refree. It is a war conceived in the bottom of a dark cave and birthed behind the ramparts of despair


It was brought up by anarchy and has now become mature, reaching a stage of horror where insurgents bury roadside bombs aimed to kill their enemies but have no worry at all if their bombs kill civilians. Likewise the TFG soldiers engage themselves in a horrific shoot out with the insurgents but give no attention to the civilian casualty that might occur in the course of cross-shooting. What a madness!


There is flood in the riverine areas, there is huge influx in Mogadishu as people are displaced from their houses, running to the direction of Jowhar, Middle Shabelle which is already staggering with the weight and the burden of Internally Displaced People. There is hunger and disease claiming a high toll; there are children perishing in their hundreds just like flies. Despite all these shocking stories, Somalia is burning set ablaze by its own people and war is still continuing in almost all corners of the country, particularly Mogadishu and surrounding locations.


Living with the horrors of war has become a rule rather than exception in Somalia and the hope to contain it seems to be nowhere in Somalia’s political horizon, considering the chaos in Mogadishu as well as the echoes of Asmara group who are singing one way but dancing to another tune.   Please share this poem with me to express my feelings about people fleeing from war in Mogadishu:


With bullets ricocheting over their roof

They couldn’t remain in door or escape

They had to face a dilemma in real life


But there came a lull for a few minutes

When they managed to leave the house

Fleeing for safety in the remote areas


Reaching in the plains of Jowhar town

They have stumbled on a piece of luck

As the agencies distributed them food


Under the scorching sun they sit

With no single shack to shelter in

As sacks of food are piled high


They look back to the good old days

Days which they doubt to come back

Days when they had both food and shelter


Abdi-Noor Mohamed
Writer and Film maker
Mogadishu, Somalia

[email protected]

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