So i’m trying o do this blog thing a bit better – there is this inate urge to share sometimes, so whoever is reading ta and I’m trying,
Not only because to try is a simple beautiful and democratic act but because of all the diverse wonderful people and spaces I find myself in,
So on Monday just gone I was invited by a friend who organising the ‘Hargeysa International Book Festiva’ to be present and read some words, and I met a group of Somalis and non-Somalis who support Somaliland (northern part of Somalia – that still hasn’t had international recognition and therefore basically doesn’t get help or relief),
One of the most amazing things one of the speakers asked for was…. people in the room to raise their hands if they have ever been to Somaliland- now the amount of non- Somalis that raised their hands made be smile. It was amazing that these very posh rich folk had been to a place where my mother and father (God rest his soul) roamed and where a lot of my immediate family,…..They have been to the place where a lot of my immediate family still live, they went to the place where my face comes from and the place where the language I was raised was to speak is from – and I who identifies with British black & white working class struggles from Manchester has never seen the land of parents – it blew my mind (in a good way)!
Also there was this man called Hamish who I met originally at the Welsh Sennead in 2012 at a show I did with the National Theatre Wales , Now his father worked in Somaliland taking him there over her years and was practically raised with Somaliland history, culture and ways . He told me how he had inadvertently joined the SNM, he was originally in Somalia as a journalist but then became a fighter– but the great thing about this man is that he has a farm in Wales where he grows plants and build traditional Somale homes to educate young Somali people in the U.K. about the richness and intelligence of their people. Hoping to inspire.
His knowledge of the Somali culture is deep! He stood there speaking Somalia and telling me about things I didn’t know the Somali words for – again blew my mind and gave me such joy in a beautiful way!
The most wonderful thing happened later- I spoke to a prolific translator, a man called Atheero (Uncle) Jamac who knew my late father from the Yemen and all my uncles and Aunts from the Arabian peninsula…..he made me cry
THE WORLD IS A VILAGE AND EVERYONES IN IT!