THOUGHTS OF A SOMALI GIRL

I follow Humans of New York and the other day one of his photos really got me thinking...most of his posts do but this one, really had me thinking about how some parts of the Somali culture (and other cultures) can be really effed up: it isn't okay to express feelings of love and affection between spouses and even between parents and children. Growing up, and even to this very day, I never saw my parents express their love to each other - at least not in front of me. Forget kissing, I never saw them hold hands nor hug nor call each other names of affection such as macaanto or anything like that. Other Somali parents are the same with each other. Even with my siblings and I, my parents never hugged us...at least I don't recall it. I also don't recall my parents ever saying "I love you". I never noticed it as a kid, but now that I'm older, I'm really bothered by it...and I think it's because I've realized it has affected me. It bothers me becau...

Hello world! Peace be upon you all. THE TIME HAS COME Y'ALL! As you've probably guessed from the title of this post, the time has come for this Canadian gal to visit the land of her ancestors - for the very first time! The past few days have been a whirlwind of packing, buying things for the trip, and of course, gifts for the family.  I'm feeling a bit nervous actually. My Somali is pretty good but I can't help add in a few English words here and there. And to be completely honest, I'm also a bit nervous about walking out in the streets among people who have seen nothing but war and violence. I've heard countless crazy stories. Their mindset and ways are different than my own. Maybe my thoughts about them will have changed at the end of my travel. But despite all the nervousness, I'm actually very excited now that I'm waiting for my flight. The reality that I'm going has finally sunk in! I'm looking forward to meeting my gra...

Hello everyone! I saw something today that I just wanted to quickly share with y'all.  Humans are helpless when they are babies. We completely depend on our mothers. It  was an exhausting day and I was on my way home from class. I was on the bus. A young woman came in with a stroller. She didn't look much older than I. She sat down on the seat beside me. I watched her lift the edge of the blanket covering her baby's stroller so she could look through the small corner at her baby. Inside the stroller, underneath the canopy of a blue blanket, was an adorable little baby. He looked about 2 months old. The bus ride was rough and bumpy. Every now and then, the bus would be jolted and we'd all be jarred from our tired stupor. Each time, the young mother would lower her head to peek through the small corner. Checking on him. To see if he was okay. I'd look at the child each time his mother peeked in at him. He looked comfortable and kept staring at m...