Letter from the Editors: Xagaa 2018

Thus we found ourselves mid-summer, preparing the Xagaa 2018 issue of Hargeisa Literary Magazine, and inundated with submissions touching upon this topic, including visual and poetic references to depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, and even suicide.

Rites of escapism

Dear Readers,

Some say that chilly winter months lend themselves to introspection and reflection, as well as feelings of listlessness and melancholy, existential anxieties, and the “blues.” While statistics show that season and sunlight indeed play upon our moods, in truth mental illness knows no boundaries. Thus we found ourselves mid-summer, preparing the Xagaa 2018 issue of Hargeisa Literary Magazine, and inundated with submissions touching on this topic, including visual and poetic references to depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, and even suicide. Mental illness weaves its way through several works in this issue, sometimes subtly and elsewhere, as in Ladan Abdi’s poem “Mental Health is a Bitch Sometimes,” more assertively.  Two important works of art from the Trinidadian multi-media artist of color Marinna Shareef—“The Mental Institution” and “I’m Melting”—make appearances as well, fitting in beautifully among creative writings about mental health struggles from Somali voices.  Anisa Hagi-Mohamed works to answer deceptively complex questions in “Maxaa Kaa Maqan?” while Karima Osman and Naaima Abdi lend strength and purpose to inner and outer battles in their respective poems  مكتوب (Maktub) and Poem, Untitled (2). Mental illness is an equalizer, affecting communities across the globe without exception. Yet, only where it is acknowledged and embraced can it be challenged. We stand with those on the path to wellness, and we celebrate creative outlets as a means of expression, self-acceptance, and wholeness.

We are proud to feature some stunning works of fiction from talented writers, including Asma Ismail’s “Hinterlands” and “الحلم الجميل (Beautiful Dream)” by Saloomi, among others. It is a joy to read such a breadth of style, from harrowing tales of escape, to practical discussions among friends, to phantasmagorical explorations of paradise and what lays beyond.

We acknowledge, as well, a dual trend of digital and analog art from contributors. In the twenty-first century, art springs forth from software and stylus as often as paintbrush and pencil. To wit, you will find on our pages charming and symbolic sketches like “Du’a (Prayer)” from Asha Mohamed, while Shukri Janagale brings “Abaayo and Awoowe” boldly into the modern age, and a collection of soft, loving portraits from Nuura Axmed, including “Macooyo and the First Granddaughter,” which we fell for long before we discovered she had rendered them from photographs on her smartphone! A series of fantastical digital artwork ties together these parallel lineages, featuring black-and-white drawings imposed on photographs, from a digital collaboration between two remarkable visual creatives.

And as always, we are grateful for the the wonderful photography submissions that give visual life to this digital platform.

Enjoy our second issue, made possible thanks to contributions from talented creatives and thanks to you, Dear Reader, for your interest and encouragement.

From Hargeisa, wishing you a healthful and creative Xagaa 2018.

Salwa & Erin, Editors


Ahmed Magare (Artist) is a multidisciplinary artist, poet, and writer and is a member of the Birmingham-based international writers group, Writers Without Borders. He is originally from Somalia. He migrated with his family to the Netherlands during the Somali Civil War, aged three, and lived there with his family for his teenage years, eventually moving to England to pursue an education in creative arts. In his writing, he explores the notion of hyper-dislocation and the experience of living in the West, through the poetic and static lenses of self-reflection and perseverance. He navigates mentally between Somalia and the West, questioning states of longing and belonging, and commenting on sociopolitical and cultural subjects in the spaces of global Somalis.

Find Ahmed’s books on Amazon: When Heroes Hide Behind Curtain Ropes, and Vessels.

Twitter@ahmedmagare

Historian of the Hunted//Achebe

I will speak for the silent
For the quiet & meek
For lions without historians
When their time is most bleak
I will speak for the mothers
Whose children are deep
Six feet under earth
Their hearts aching in grief

 

 

I dare to speak up for the ones who are silent
The perished
The dead
Who were taken by violence
By hatred so evil It sets off the sirens
In hearts of the many
Affected by climate
Imposed by the powers
Want life for us, gory
Oppress us & kill us
Then rewrite our stories
Use ignorant persons
To push their agendas
Then blame them
Condemn them
Say it’s their dilemma
Real narratives living
On tongues of the spared
So shook they stay quiet
They bury despair
Their silence a guise
That shields them from torture
But the truth beats them harder
Than any enforcer
It crawls up their throats
In the night as they sleep
Wake up soaked in fear
And they weep, and they weep
I will speak for the silent
For the quiet & meek
For lions without historians
When their time is most bleak
I will speak for the mothers
Whose children are deep
Six feet under earth
Their hearts aching in grief
I will speak for Aleppo
For Flint
For Treyvon
I will speak up for Hamza
And baby Aylan
I will speak up for Deah Yusor & Razan
I will speak for Ciara
Those who’ve done nothing wrong

I will speak for those sinking
In deep seas of sorrows
Holding hope in their palm
For a brighter tomorrow
It is they who push me
To be great
To be proud
I will speak for them loud
No guise and no shroud

I will speak, I will speak
‘Til I can’t speak no more
And when that day comes
Some must take up the chore
Show them to be louder
Teach the children their voice
Of resilience is power
Tell them all to make noise
They must speak for the silent
There is no other choice
They must fall on all ears
Then one day we’ll rejoice
In a land known as paradise
Prepped for arrival
Of those who have fought
For what’s right
What is vital
For humanity
Love
For what makes us all great
On that day we will rest
No more pain
No more hate


Shukri Janagale (Artist) resides in Garowe by way of Toronto, Canada. Since her return to her homeland, Somalia, she has been blessed with a sense of peace. This is the healthiest she has ever felt, spiritually, physically, emotionally and mentally. This nuance of balance has ignited a surge of creativity that Shukri hasn’t experienced since her adolescence. Due to her experiences she has chosen to make Garowe, Somalia her home base. In an attempt to alter the negative perceptions of her country and inspire other diaspora members to return home, Shukri has chosen to challenge her private nature and share her experiences via Instagram. Her Art Work focuses on the abstract human portrait. Due to religious reasons, her paintings are devoid of eyes. The absence of eyes adds another layer of depth to her subjects; it’s as if the void serves as a layer of protection to the windows of the soul. You will find bright contrasting colors and black are reoccurring themes in her work.
Digital portfoliohttps://janagale.crevado.com
Instagram@cushiticqueen
Hanan Hassan (Author): The poem is inspired by Nigerian poet, novelist and critic Chinua Achebe. He was once quoted stating “Until the lions have their own historians, the history of the hunt will always glorify the hunter”. This quote resonated with me as a young Somali woman in America. Through my written works, I dare to speak up for those who aren’t allowed the space.

Instagram: @onedesertflower

الحلم الجميل

I'm Melting

لقد حلمت حلما جميلا وناقصا ، رأيتني دخلت الجنة مع أناس آخرين لم أكن أعرفهم في الدنيا ، كان بعضهم في قبور مجاورة لقبري ، تلاقت أعيننا فور أن قذفنا من حفرنا ، جميعنا تعانقنا ؛ فقد كنا نلتقي لأول مرة منذ ان تجاورت بيوتنا ، كنت أسمع احيانا ضحكاتهم وأحيانا اخرى صوت جمجمة بعضهم وهي تتكسر كالزجاج .

حوسبنا و نجانا الله ، ثم بدأنا نلتمس طريقنا إلى الجنة ،وفي الطريق لم أكن أركض بسرعة البرق و لم أركب حصانا طائرا مثل كثير ممن مروا فوقنا .

وبالرغم من أن سيئاتي لم تكن كثيرة ، وحتى بعد أن فشل جلدي وأصابعي في توريطي ؛ إلا أن حسناتي ذهبت مع آخرين ادعوا أنني غبتهم ؛ لهذا فقد توجب علي المشي مع أصدقائي الذين كان نصفهم يزحف على بطنه ، كنا عراة ، وكان الرجال يختلسون النظر إلينا ولا يتورعون عن التحرش بمن تصل أيديهم ، هكذا هم دائما .

لا يوجد رجل حي يفوت على نفسه فرصة النظر إلى امرأة عارية حتى ولو كانت في أرض المحشر .

أما نحن النساء فكانت عيوننا معلقة بالأعلى ننتظر توصيلة من أحد الطائرين ، كما عهدوا علينا في الدنيا ننتظر التوصيلات .

واحدة منا فقط حصلت عليها .

كنا حفاة ، والدم بسيل أنهارا من أقدمنا ، لم تكن هناك سماء أو أرض ؛ فقد طويت كطي السجل للكتب ،

هل يمكنك تصور ذلك ؟!

بقيت فقط الجنة والنار والطريق الذي بينهما ، اذهاننا اختلت ، وأفرغت من كل التصورات ، أو الذكريات ، الشيء الوحيد الذي بقي من أيام الزمن الجميل كانت هيئاتنا البشرية .

فقدنا صديقين في ذلك الطريق الحاد والمستقيم جدا ، وأيضا صديق آخر علق في منطقة تسمى باﻷعراف ، أخبرنا أنه قاتل مع طارق بن زياد في إحدى معاركه بدون إذن والدته.

لم أكن لأفضل رفقة رجل جاهد مع ابن زياد وبدون إذن من والدته !

وأخيرا وصلنا أبواب الجنة ، تنفسنا الصعداء جميعا عندما رأينا جناحا رضوان الخضراء .

كنا آخر سبعة دخلوا إلى الجنة ، و بعد أن اغتسلنا في نهر الحياة ، تغيرت أشكالنا ، وصار لوننا نحن الفتيات الأربعة خلاصة كل الألوان مجتمعة في أجسادنا المصنوعة من الكريستال ، سألنا الملك المشرف على ترفيهنا ما إذا كنا نرغب بلقاء ربنا ، واحدة منا أرادت ذلك ، وأخرى طلبت الإجتماع مع أهلها ، في هذه الأثناء صديقنا المتحرش اندس في بحيرة كانت تغتسل فيها حور لإحدى الصالحات ، وبدأ عمله فورا ، ابتسم له الملك وأخبره أن له سبعون يشبهن مثلهن .

فعلة صديقي تحمل في الجنة اسما آخر ، وبالتالي فهي لا تعتبر جربمة ؛ لأن الحور لم تخلق إلا لمتعة الرجال من اهل الجنة ، وأيضا نساء الدنيا ادخلن فقط لهذا الغرض .

الأربعة الباقون قرروا الإحتفال ، جاءتنا سرر مرفوعة تطفو كالسفنة على السطح ، حملتنا إلى خيمة واسعة ، وجميلة ، هذا كل ما يمكنني القول عنها ، كنت فاتنة وأنا متكئة على ذاك السرير ، أتتنا طاولات لا نهاية لها مليئة بفواكه تتلألأ وتأتي إليك بنفسها ، وشربنا حتى الثمالة بأكواب موضوعة .

احتفالنا استمر لمدة خمسين سنة .

كانت الجنة تعج بالنساء على عكس ما توقعت ؛ فكل رجل كانت له أكثر من خمسين امرأة ، وهكذا فالنساء كن أضعافا مضاعفة بالنسبة للرجال .

بعد قرن من الزمن كنت أعيش فيها عيشة رغيدة وضجرة ،

وكنت اتمنى لو علقت مع المجاهد ، أو أن لا بنفتح قبري خطأ وأبقى منطوية مع الأرض إلى الأبد ، حينها جاء أحد صديقاي من النار بعد أن عفى الله عنه وأدخله في فسيح جناته ، ويبدو أنه – مثلي – مل من النساء والرجال إلى آخر تلك المياعة قال لي “وهل أنا طفل رضيع كي أشرب تلك الكمية من اللبن كل يوم” ثم أخبرني عن جهنم ، كانت مليئة بالأحداث المثيرة ، تحالف نابليون مع استالين ويصارعون في حكم سقرة حلفا آخر مكونا من الفايكنغ برئاسة هتلر ومعه أبوجهل ونتنياهو المتعاركان بدورهم ،[حدث في النار أن تحالف هتلر مع الساميين ] وقال أن سقرة يحكمها حلف نابليون .

بعض من شياطين الإنس انقلبوا على حراس زمهريرة ، ويخوضون حروبا ضارية ضد مالك .

اسكندر الأكبر أمر جميع العلماء الذين كانوا فيها – وفي الحقيقة كلهم موجودون هناك – أن يقوموا باختراع سلاح يمكنه من الإستيلاء على النار ومن بعدها الجنة وربما على العرش وإبليس يقدم مشوراته كالعادة.

الطموحون في الدنيا طموحون في الآخرة .

وودي آلان يخرج فيلما كوميديا عن أهل الجنة ويعرض في سينما [الحطمة ] المزدهر ، في الدرك الخامس بعد أن يتم شي المشاهدين وتبديل جلودهم .

كتيبة من الملائكة حضرت الفيلم .

الحكماء والفلاسفة يجزمون أنهم في الجنة وأن النار تقع في الجانب الآخر .

شكسبير يكتب نهاية سعيدة لروميو وجولييت ، وكل العشاق اجتمعوا معا .

أنا وصديقي عرفنا أننا جزء من تلك الأحداث وأننا لا ننتمى إلى الجنة ، دلتنا الأفعى وقطفنا تفاحة ، فلما ذقنا الشجرة بدت لنا سوءاتنا وقيل لنا اهبطوا بعضكم لبعض عدو ، ولكم في الأرض مستقر ومتاع إلى حين ، وأصبحنا آدم وحواء المطرودين من الأعلى .

صحوت وأنا أنتظر بفارغ صبر [ذلك الحين ].


Marinna Shareef (Artist) is a 20 year old Trinidadian multidisciplinary artist who specialises in manipulating both digital and physical media to portray her everyday feelings. She is inspired by the magnitude and mystery of her emotions that she experiences as someone who deals with bipolar disorder, using visual imagery to organize her thoughts into a way that she can better understand.

I’m Melting
Mixed Media collage on greyboard.
This piece depicts how a depressive episode feels when I’m fighting the urge to give up.

Instagram: @mahrinnart
YouTube: MarinnaS

Saloomi (Author) graduated from Hargeisa University, and writes in both Arabic and Somali. Saloomi resides in Hargeisa.

Somali Proverbs

My people say to leave what is on this side for the flood
And to leave what is on that side for the wind:

thumbnail_FullSizeRender-1

My people are beautiful:
They say if people come together they can mend a crack in the sky.
My people are funny:
They say tea is for men and talk is for women.
My people are naïve:
They say a broken tradition angers God.
My people are nomads:
They say a man prolonging his life sees a camel give birth.
My people are wise:
They say these youth taught their mother to give birth.
My people are lovers:
They say a thousand assignations, one marriage.
My people are honest:
They say there is no life without a women.
My people say to leave what is on this side for the flood
And to leave what is on that side for the wind:
My people have been left in the past.


Nuura Axmed (Artist) posts poetry and personal essays about identity, mental health, and travel at her blog Thoughts of a Big Head. Nuura is also a visual artist who focuses on the attire (hijab) of her subjects, and the overall mood of the piece, in lieu of emphasizing facial features. She enjoys taking photographs of her grandmother, and making digital edits on her phone. She resides in London.

The above artwork is titled: Macooyo and the First Granddaughter

Instagram: @wordsbynourz

Ali Hagi (Author) is a Somali male living in San Diego, California. He is 28 years of age and was born in Qooryooley, Somalia during the civil war. His family fled and lived in refugee camps in neighboring Kenya until they were granted entrance to the US as refugees in 1993. Ali took some time off from school to find his place and figure things out. He is now pursuing a Bachelors degree in English Literature, Insha’Allah. Ali is an avid reader and writer and has been writing poetry from a young age. He takes inspiration from poets he reads as well as the stories and poetry of his grandfather, Muhammad Omar Dage, a renowned poet in his own right. Ali plans to pursue a career in writing and publish a collection of poetry as well as a novel in the near future, Insha’Allah.

Maxaa Kaa Maqan?

Waxaa iqa maqan,
acceptance.
That depression is not a myth,
A conspiracy of gaalo,
A break from tradition,
A rebellion against religion,
A coup,

62 Amani _ Safa

Waxaa iga maqan:
peace of mind.
A respite from overthinking,
of resting at night, like others,
and entering the garden of dreams.
Instead I lie awake regretting what was before,
anxious of what is to come,
As the present continues to elude me.

Waxaa iga maqan:
a mental burden, lifted.
I carry the expectations,
of achieving dreams, unfulfilled,
of crossing boundaries, un-navigated,
attaining accolades and diplomas,
of carrying the torch of hope
with my bare hands.
of not wincing, not complaining,
As the fiery flames of this forced role
engulf me, completely,
leaving no residue of who I was,
or what I could have been.

Waxaa iqa maqan:
belonging. To feel at home,
in my own home, in my own bones.
Not too black for this crowd,
too white for the other,
too foreign for this circle,
too western for the other.
How can I identify,
when all that I identify with rejects me?
I am a nameless, faceless ghost,
longing for and seeking out,
familiar leaves, friendly waters,
founded foundations,
something to call my own.

Waxaa iqa maqan,
acceptance.
That depression is not a myth,
A conspiracy of gaalo,
A break from tradition,
A rebellion against religion,
A coup,
Overthrowing all that you know,
Disregarding all that you do,
It’s an illness,
A dark cloud,
A swallowed pain,
A bottomless well of emptiness.

Waxaa iqa maqan:
honesty.
That you too hurt,
that in the wrinkles beneath your eyes,
and between the gaps in your teeth,
on the calluses of your palms,
that you carry pain
that traveled miles with you.
That you too, are hurting.
That bloodshed can be washed from your hands,
though not so easily from your mind.
That you feel alone,
that you feel without a home,
that you lie awake many nights,
worrying about what has been,
and what is yet to come.
That I put a name to your pain,
that I put a name to my pain,
that I put a name to our pain,
that together, we can overcome.


The above image is part of a collaboration between:

Amina M.
Instagram: @4nine2 
Website: www.4nine2.com

&
Safa M., professional photographer based in Vancouver, BC.

 


Anisa Hagi-Mohamed (Author) is a dedicated mother, wife, teacher and writer. She spends most of her time lost in thought or daydreaming, cooking/foodography and starting projects she knows she will never finish. She hopes to one day publish a novel, memoir and cookbook, all in that order. She blogs at www.anisahagi.com 

About her poem, “Maxaa Kaa Maqan?,” Anisa says: Often, when the elder generation inquires about the younger generations’ mental health issues and illnesses, their first reaction is usually to ask: Maxaa kaa maqan? Meaning what is missing (from you)? Shelter, a warm bed, food, and a plethora of material, tangible possessions are ticked off. Parents can’t fathom what might trouble a mind, if a stomach is full, if all the faculties of hearing, seeing, etc. are working.

Diinkii Dhaanshey

“Diinkii Dhaanshey” (The Turtle Fetched a Pail of Water) is an idiom that hooyo always said to us when we were being lazy.  It’s taken from this story about a tortoise.

tortoise.png

“Diinkii Dhaanshey” (The Turtle Fetched a Pail of Water) is an idiom that hooyo always said to us when we were being lazy.  It’s taken from this story about a tortoise:
During a drought, a tortoise was sent to collect water from a well. He was presumed to have left. The other animals waited and waited until finally one day the tortoise was spotted. The animals cried in relief, “Oh! He’s back!”To which the tortoise replied, “Actually, I’m still on my way.”


Asha Mohamed (Artist) is an illustrator and aspiring writer studying for a Masters degree in Psychology. She curates and co-produces Literary Natives, an organisation dedicated to championing Writers of Colour. Asha resides in London.

Find more of Asha’s work, and purchase prints, at ashaillustrates.com 

Twitter: @baahramewe
Instagram: @baahramewe

Dhambaal Ka Socda Jilka Dhalan Doona

47 - Nujum Ahmed Hashi for Khaled M. Saed

“Hadallo ka soo baxaya af aan wali dilaacin, fikiro dhex mushaaxaya maskax aan wali amabaqaadin, indho aan wali ifka u soo bixin, jidh aan dareemin milica cadceeda, san aan wali carfin udduga ubaxa, Haddana qaabaynaya nolosha uu ku noolaan lahaa.”

Laga yaabaa in la idiin kala sheekeeyay, laga yaabaa in aad ku kortay deegaan ku xardhan midabyo kala duwan, laga yaabaa in aad qol madow ugu jirto beelaysi aan macno ku fadhiyin, laga yaabaa inaad fikirkaaga iyo cududaada siisay siyaasi aan dantiisa moogayn, laga yaabaa in aanad wali u soo if bixin quruxda dabiiciga ah ee adduunka, laga yaabaa in aanad wali indho dilaacsan oo fikirka tolmoon aad ka arag la’dahay, laga yaabaa in aad ka hayaantay dhulkaagii Hooyo, laga yaabaa in aad ka nixisay hooyo u heelanayd horumarkaaga, laga yaabaa in aad ka farxisay danayste aan dan kaa lahayn, laga yaabaa in aad musuqmaasuq ka carartay, laga yaabaa in aad cadaalad darro ka cadhootay, laga yaabaa inaad u fikiri wayday si togan, laga yaabaa inaad isleedahay ii hiili, laga yaabaa in lagu jiho wareeriyay ood kala garan wayday jiho aad u socoto, laga yaabaa in hore aan looga fikirin aayahaaga danbe, laga yaabaa in aad walaalkaa u damqan wayday, laga yaabaa in aad ka wayday garabkaad ku lahayd, laga yaabaa inaad ku gubatay dab shisheeye dhigay, laga yaabaa in aad ii garaabi waydo.

balse hadaladan aan ku hadlayaa waa hadalo ka soo baxaya af aan wali dilaacin, fikiro dhex mushaaxaya maskax aan wali amabaqaadin, indho aan wali ifka u soo bixin, jidh aan dareemin milica cadceeda, san aan wali carfin udduga ubaxa, Haddana qaabaynaya nolosha uu ku noolaan lahaa, ka digtoon hagardaamooyinkii aad la kulantay, raba in uu qayrkii la tartamo raba in uu walaalkii jeclaado, raba in uu ku noolaado milgo iyo sharaf, raba in uu calankiisa kor u qaado, adduunku waa hadhkaa labadiisa galine shalay haddaad ku madhatay badaha waawayn maalin anigaa ku noolaan doona nolol aanad waxba iiga tagin. Aniga oo gacmaha is haysta aniga oo is jecel kuna midaysan fikrado bilaa turxaan ah. Aniga ayaa la dood dhigan doona caalamka intiisa kale, aniga ayaa la babac dhiganaya qayrkay.

Adiga kaagama baahni in aad i waaniso waayo waan ogahay xaalka aad ku sugantahay iyo taloda aad ka dhaxashay kuwii kaa horeyeeyay in ay midho dhal noqon wayday balse anigu safxad cusub oo nolosha ah ayaan bilaabanaya aniga ku bilaabi doona jacayl.

Waxaan arkaa saadaal wacan yididiilo cusub iyo qorax cusub oo ii dhalan doonta, farxad iyo jacayl u dhaxayn doona ummad iyo deegaankeed, Hooyo iyo ilmaheed, cadaalad ka soo if bixi doonta deegaan kharibnaa balse dhiig cusub lagu shubay. Waxaan noqon doonnaa tamar iyo awood cusub, cudud midaysan iyo nolol ii qalanta. Adiga waxaan kugula tallin lahaa in aanad is idhiibin ilaa aan ka imanayo in yar baa ka hadhee Hinji!


Nujum Ahmed Hashi (Artist) was born in Mogadishu, Somalia and raised there. She found herself interested in art at seven years of age, and used to draw on walls, in sand, and in her school books. On her way home from madrassa she often felt pressured from her older sister and school teachers; art became her skipping point to disconnect from her surroundings. That was the beginning of her journey to art.

Twitter@Nujumarts
Facebook: Nujuum.A.Hashi
Email: Nujuumhashi@gmail.com

Khaled M. Said (Author) is a young writer. He blogs at Khaloudym and has been published in WAAHEEN newspaper, among other local newspapers and websites. In 2016, Khaled worked for Jalada Pan-African Writers, based in Nairobi, where he contributed Somali translations to Africa’s most translated historical written works, including a Sanaa Theatre award-winner (2016) in the category of Best Play in Local Language.

Khaled graduated from the University of Hargeisa’s Department of Biomedical Science. He has a YouTube-based TV show called Xogmaal, He is an active member of the Saylici Festival Team, an annual festival of Somali traditional folklore dance in Hargeisa. Khaled is currently working with ILMO Aqoon publisher where he is a Chief Editor of children’s books.

Twitter: khaalid.said

Macooyo

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Nuura Axmed (Author & Artist) posts poetry and personal essays about identity, mental health, and travel at her blog Thoughts of a Big Head. Nuura is also a visual artist who focuses on the attire (hijab) of her subjects, and the overall mood of the piece, in lieu of emphasizing facial features. She enjoys taking photographs of her grandmother, and making digital edits on her phone. She resides in London.

Instagram: @wordsbynourz

! الرومانسية الشرعية

دعني أعرفك عليها ؛ فأنا لدي تجربة ممتازة.

كانت لدي صديقة نسميها (الشبكة) ؛ لأن الشباب كانوا يصطادون الفتيايات بها ، هي التي عرفتني على المدعو بأبو القعاع محمد بن محمود الملقب بأسد اﻹسلام .

63 Amani _ Safa

دعني أعرفك عليها ؛ فأنا لدي تجربة ممتازة.

كانت لدي صديقة نسميها (الشبكة) ؛ لأن الشباب كانوا يصطادون الفتيايات بها ، هي التي عرفتني على المدعو بأبو القعاع محمد بن محمود الملقب بأسد اﻹسلام .

كان رجلا ضخم الجثة ، يملك شعرا طويلا وعينان عسليتان ، ووجه صغير مقارنة بجسمه ، يصر على موقفه ولو كان تافها.

التقينا بمنزل الشبكة ، و جلست في أقرب مقعد إلى الباب .

إذا كنت في غرفة مع رجل ضخم ، فأنصحك أن تجلسي بالقرب من الباب .

نفذت كل ما قالتة لي شبكة ، ثبت عيني على الأرض ، ووضعت يدي على فمي ، كما يجب على الفتاة أن تفعل عند اللقاء اﻷول ، مع أنني لم أكن أشعر بالخجل ، كنت حذرة وكنت أرغب أن أنظر إليه من عينيه ، وأقرأ ملامح وجهه الصغير وانفعالاته ، وأعرف إن كانت لديه عيوب خلقية خاصة إن كان يملك مشية بطريق ، فهذا أسوء شيء قد يحدث للفتاة في أول موعدها الغرامي ، ولكنني فضلت نصيحة شبكة فهي أدرى مني بتلك الأمور .

صاحبي جلس في قبالتي ، وبعد السلام تحدث عن محاضرة سرمدية عن مشروعية وأهمية الزواج وفضله ، ثم أخرج من جيبة ورقة طويلة ، وبدأ يقرأ قائمة من الشروط والطلبات واﻷوامر التي تبدأ كلها بعبارة [ كوني] وأنا كنت أستمع بوقار شديد ، وأحدق في رجلي .

وفد صادف أنني أنا وهو ندرس المساء كتب الأمهات السبع من الشيخ درر في مسجده ، وهذا كان بالنسبة لنا أمرا في قمة الرومانسية .

كان يملك ابتسامة جميلة ، لم يكن يمشي كالبطريق ، كان يحضر لي شيكولاتتي المفضلة كل مساء ، ويقول “خذي يا أم قعقاع ، وأسأل الله أن لا تسمني ” فآخذها بإصبعين ونعود إلى المسجد وكلانا لا يقوى على النظر في عيون اﻵخر ، وفي المقابل أكتب له رسائل أقول فيها ما لم أستطع قولها له في التيلفون .

كنت أوقظه لصلاة الليل ، ويؤمني من المايكرفون ، ثم نسبح لله ما في السماوات ونقرأ وردنا من القرآن ونتسابق عليه ، وبعدها نتحدث عن أحلامنا وأولادنا ، وحياتنا التي تضحك لنا .

لقد وعدني بأنه سيشرب من حيث شربت .

الرسول قدوتنا ، والحياة الرومانسية لا تخلو من التسباق .

وعندما كنا نلتقي في بيت شبكة ، كنت ألبس حجابي الوردي ، قال لي مرة أنه يليق بي ..

لا أدري ولا يهمنا اﻵن نهاية تلك الهرجة ، ولكنني رغبت في الحديث عن الرومانسية الشرعية فقط و لا أدعو إليها .

بحق اﻷرض والسماء إنها إهانة .


This above work is part of a collaboration between:

Amani M.
Instagram: @4nine2 
Website: www.4nine2.com
&
Safa M., professional photographer based in Vancouver, BC.

 

Saloomi (Author) graduated from Hargeisa University, and writes in both Arabic and Somali. Saloomi resides in Hargeisa.