RSS

An Essay in Rhythm.

07 Dec

Shabelle folk song, addressing the hardship they have had to face due to floods in Jowhar, Hirshabelle.
The indigenous people of Somalia’s riverine don’t have means of writing, their ways of expressing themselves is through poems and folk songs. Those who are foreign to this culture, it may seem that these people are rejoicing their misery. They send their voices in the hope that the power that be would hear them.  This is how they write their essays.  

First Stanza

1st stanza:
won’t you come to the aid of the region, won’t you come and help?
Our town destroyed, our region destroyed, our livelihood destroyed, living get harder by the day.
My mother did not give birth to a stupid, I am not concerned about idle ideas, I am concerned about the living conditions we are living in at this moment.
Our habitat is water logged and there is no doctor and no medicine in the medicine house.
No public service, no health service for the community, no doctor, no medicine.
I am complaining about ceaseless mud and dirt, more dirt is dumped on us with nowhere to complain to. Furthermore the wounded get no medicine, where is the doctor?
Our population are put in camps, where is the doctor who can bring them back?
Collapsing walls and flooding our villages are some of my concern.

Second Stanza

2nd stanza:
Firstly I praise the Lord, secondly I praise his prophet, after that I would like to make one or two very clear about our town called Afgoye. All its resources getting looted, robbed and it has no doctor to cure this problem. No medicine in the medicine house and nobody seems to care about us.  No medicine for the wounded. On top that we hear walls collapsed causing lot of flood, we have no defence against this flood. No doctor, no medicine, no cure for walls collapsing, I am complain to our people, our nation and humanity.  

Third Stanza

3rd stanza:
This mud, this mud, this mud, broken glass cut my foot, my foot now bleeds and there is no doctor, no medicine. Syphoned off, it gets syphoned off what little aid intended for us, who to complain to? While aid get pilfered, our people are left naked, who to complain to?
I have a complaint, this land which gets ripped off of its resources gets no help, no development and no roads built. This concerns me, who to complain to?
Greedy stupid people don’t build roads, they only take they give nothing. We refuse to be governed by greedy stupid people.    

 
1 Comment

Posted by on December 7, 2020 in Somalia

 

One response to “An Essay in Rhythm.

  1. dianerwilliams2

    December 7, 2020 at 1:14 am

    Thank you so much for these heartfelt lyrics!

    Sent from my iPhone

    >

     

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

 
%d bloggers like this: