Somali Short Stories Series: Mogadishu Love In A War Zone
I don't know what you're talking about. I don't know why you're telling me this bullshit right now. I don't know whether you have hidden agenda that is against our common interest to stay alive together in this hell, where warlords and blood-thirsty thugs are roaming in the streets of Mogadishu killing anyone they want. But, the only thing I know is that each of us is for himself or herself to escape death in this battle-stricken city, unless we all find a way to stick together to stay alive. Please shut the door. I have no idea how we will survive in this grocery store.
Inside this grocery store, you can see all those frightened faces of this throng, sweating profusely in this small, hot space, waiting for some sort of miracle to save their lives from the fighting that is happening all around them. There is nothing you can do about that, because you’re trapped with them in this place. You see, whenever you hear this deafening sound of these heavy weapons, you duck as if you can outrun the speedy bullets. But you can't. No one can. Even me.
Nothing is so painful as falling in love at a time when war is everywhere you know, when war rages in your city, in your neighborhood, in your school and in your dwelling place. You lose patience in the disappointing strata of war that separates lovers, cuts the romantic bridge that connects them together.
I don't know whether we will die together or will survive together, or one of us will die and the other will survive; I mean God knows what the future holds for us. All we can do now is to hide in this place with all those frightened people with this shocking degree of uncertainty. By the way, even if death is not staring at you now, do you know when you will leave this earth for good? Nobody knows. That is a fact. Even small children know that death is unpredictable-- so, why afraid of dying now?
Yes. You are right. Nobody likes to die despite the inevitability of death. Every single human being has the wish to live forever. Every person wants to be immortal. No question about mankind's clinging to being alive or to eternal life here on earth. People are still looking for the fountain of youth.
I still remember when we fell in love. Whenever something reminds me of that, I feel nostalgic about the past when we had both love and peace. Love without peace is tea without sugar. Am I figuratively wrong about saying love without peace is tea without sugar? I don't think so. Well, when we first fall in love, it was like a magic dream come true; we lived in a wonderful time where nothing mattered except our love. We were lovebirds singing on every branch of all those flower-covered trees in this beautiful tropical forest. In this forest there was almost every kind of wild life that you couldn't help but to watch with your full attention.
Babe, please stop this bullshit. We can't go out right now with all those bullets flying all over the place. If you go by yourself, you might die. I mean do you have this hidden agenda of surviving by yourself? Can you be yourself without me? Ok. Never mind. I know you love me very much.
Can you remember the warlord I was telling you about the other day? I think it is him and his rival warlord who are fighting now in the neighborhood. They never defeat one another. They usually fight without any obvious reasons. They are like a cat and a mouse chasing one another, without outthinking one another. They seem they don't have the intellect to reconcile their differences too. Sometimes they are between being at war and being at peace. They are like two jealous wives who share a single husband...
I don't like to talk about politics but I have to say this; Somalia is like unlucky orphan but a stubborn one neglected by the international community because of its mischief; it is almost twenty years and this orphan is crying while cutting its delicate face with its long sharp nails...it is not ready for its parents to pick it up safely...
Babe, come on. It seems less bullets are dancing around now. Let us go. Be as fast as you can.
Do you remember this neighborhood? This is Madena-- the most peaceful district of Mogadishu. Now we can flee to refugee camps in neighboring countries. We take a taxi. Did I say a taxi? Yeah, a taxi... Mogadishu is a strange city where life and death, lack of bread and plenty of mobile phones exist in paradox and side by side... If we are lucky, we will get resettlement in the US or somewhere in the Western World.
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