HURRAH ! Democracy Defeated Dictatorship

Written and Submitted by Yusuf Dayr
December 26, 2007

(Hadhwanaagnews) History begins with writing a simple commenting note.Three things drive a man out of his country. Poverty, bad – ruler, and a broken – love. One generation plants the trees, other generation enjoys the fruit, and another sits under the shades of the trees with empty – stomach. Life is a theater where the worst people of the society sometimes get the best seats. We hang little thieves and take off our hats to greet big ones as a salute and respect. Who avoids temptation avoids sin. Fish and African politicians stinks in three days. I hate to hammer on the past, but the new concert of the bear and the wolves ( House Of Elders )is very fascinating. Fortune is the good man’s prize but the bad man’s bane. Who ever goes backward never goes forward. It is an ill bird that fouls it’s own nest. The dog has four legs, but does not run on four roads. Fraud and cunning are the weapons of the weak. Why you buy a cow if you can get the milk free. The friction of argument of Mr.Riyalle produces more heat than light. Mr.Riyalle, your best friend is your mirror. But you believe that your best friend is your dollar; and your close flatterers. Your weak foundation will destroy your superstructure. A Skunk ( xoor ) does not smell his own stench. Let every nation know, whether they wish us good or ill. Mohamed Hashe is our genuine hero that we found in adversity; and he is worth all the hazards we run to. Because for a good friend, the journey is never too long. Friends must greet where the hills won’t meet. Mr.M.White, though your body was imprisoned, your soul was free. Because a running river never freezes. Your true God and your honesty to your country has set you free. You have to remember always that Mr.Riyalle and his borrowed eyes costs us nothing. Because a friend won with a feather can be lost with a straw. There is a lot of difference between friends and acquaintances. Take a friend for what he does, a wife for what she has, and goods for what they are worth. That is why they say that a reconciled acquaintance is a double enemy. Mr.M.White, Mr.Riyalle’s holy bible is his bank book, but your faith is the holy Quran. That is how you differ in both, the body and soul. But ingratitude is a human nature. Mohamed Hashi is our hero and our friend. Somalilanders, you have to remember that justice always prevails. Planning your future saves you from regretting.

As I am getting older, sleep has become lighter and lighter, and more difficult to get. While sleeping lightly; I often have premonitory bad dreams partly because of the political hiccups of President Riyalle and partly because of my degrading poor health. Although I am not lucky enough to know how to interpret these nightmare dreams, yet it signals in my intuition. The mysterious and unclear narrow vision of our politicians in the political arena. They are desperate for help but shying away from asking; due to their deep ignorance. A relationship of trust in between the political leaders and the public is a missing crucial factor. That is why our political pledges often don’t see the light of the day time. Our politicians have been blinded by the gold – dust. That is why they can read neither our lips nor our hearts. As authority can serve no good purpose unless it is rightly exercised. Offering a construction worker a free neck message after a back – breaking day on the job, could easily induce a quick trip to the hospital as an expression of gratitude.


Our World has come to regard the self – absorbed act of taking, as a worthy quality. Giving without expectation of reward regarded as a slightly eccentric one. That is why our genuine hero was driven illegally to the prison. Who knows where it all might lead to? In a country where all mired in poverty and unemployment, illiteracy and disease. While some of special interest group whom we share nothing in the past, or at the present. Practicing corruption, abuse of power, and jealously hoarding good amount of our fortune. And yet they are baffled by the resentment their ill action generates. Slamming the door on our face in this age and time. It is a bizarre! No jokes from now and then. The thought is too scary rather to be funny. Stay tuned and watch. They are treating us as second citizens and immigrants with immigrant souls. Another seventeen years of slow spinning wheels is a poisonous prescription. A leadership deadly infected with serious greed, subterfuges, deception and out – right lies. Lack of national purpose of direction; or the guts to create political goals, is the symptoms of my killing disease. Good guys have to shoot, so the evil must not win. We need a Messiah with a gimmick stick to intervene. We are not asking for too much. Just an appropriate school for my betrayed child, an affordable electricity, and a healthy water to drink. That is all for my demands right now. Until my favorite hero Mr.Six restores back life and comes back from his self – imposed exile. They are twisting my heart but I am too old to cry. The morning mist on the flowers is my shed tears; and the whispers of the trees is the wailing of my bleeding devastated heart. They are expert only on how to divide families and friends. But we want what binds us, not what divides us. How they are punishing us with our own mistakes is almost unreal to believe. It is not dark yet, but it is getting too late. But what can we do? Nobody is willing to listen.

A cultivated fertile soil without harvest for eighteen years period is a wasted irreversible time; deductible from our life – span. A saga typified the fruitless era of the dark rule of the old vampire, Siyad Bare. You scratch my back, and I scratch your back is void, and no more valid . When the truth that crushed to death, will rise again on the earth? Now they have started to climb every tree and mountain to kill innocent heroes in order to stay in power under any circumstances. Finger pointing at each other and splashing mud at each other on their faces. A marathon of slander and heartbreaking scandals had been released to the media and the public alike. Everyday new tips of Hargeisa – Gate scandals and fishy stories. Millions of defense but not a cent to tribute. Mr.Samale unveiled to the public interweaving nets and ropes of evil deeds that combines assassinations, plots, and slow death scandals that are appearing on the horizon. There is nothing new under the sun of the Mad – Cow – Cashier, and Mr.Riyalle. A typical husband and wife assassin who are clueless about each other’s occupation until each is hired to kill the other. Mr.Riyalle, your star has fallen down and your fate is trembling on the balance. An ugly woman dreads the mirror. Enough is enough. We want the law to speak, not the lawyer. Since the day you held our genuine heroes behind iron – bars. You have set a fire on our hair, and had swept our hearts with forks and knives. We know that your favorite movie is,” Mississippi is burning.” But you can’t push us to the edge and ditch of shame anymore further. Because the people already unveiled your mask of dismay and double standard policy.


Threatening and contempting our heroes is a weed that grows in every soil of your Kingdom. You are treating us as slaves whose limbs are free. We can watch a thief but we can’t watch a liar. Mr.Riyalle, to make enemies, talk; to make friends, listen. Money and man is a mutual friendship show; man makes false money, money makes man so. He that full of himself is empty. If you want to be deemed from your previous sins, lay all your cards of hidden agenda right now on the table. Slavery is too high a price to pay for simple living. It is easy for a man in good health to preach patience to the sick. There are many voices echoed to our ears, but few are true. We must filter all words of pen or tongue. Wolves of the ODUB Empire, you are all angels on top but devils underneath. You are raping our mandate and freedom because you represent nobody. We can’t grow grass on a beaten – track, because domestic fruit will not grow on wild – trees. The vagabond, when rich, is called a tourist. Please Wolves, show us your hands then we can tell your trade. Mr.Riyalle, If at all you have a heart. Send your wolves to the town and let them see by themselves , eye – shopping, in order to discover how the masses are suffering. The road of bye – and- bye leads to the town of never. Before now, you could see the forest, not the trees. Now you can see neither the forest nor the trees. There are three people in this World. Those who have wishbones, those who have funny bones, and those who have backbones. There are waves of bad news from the Spider – web Palace echoed to our ears. Because the pen conveys one’s meaning a thousand miles. A love letter sometimes costs less than three cents stamp. The buyer needs a thousand eyes, the seller wants but one. Always leave a loose thread and a knot, when you stop sewing, and you will never lose the first stitch. The thread follows the needle. The masses are thinking deeply of the rising tide. The bear and the wolves have the same intentions but speaking with different tones. It is only at low tide, we find things worth picking up. Mr.Riyalle, remember that everyday is not a Friday. You must not be in a hurry to tie today, what you can not untie tomorrow. Don’t be the architect of your own grave.
Our future is in a sealed book.

Wolves and deer never stroll together. When the deer is dead, the wolves dance on it’s grave. Today the bear and the wolves seems active but literally dead. Their honey moon is over. It is our turn to roll and dance on their grave tomorrow. Singing the Rap – Style – Music of Abwaan Abdi Qais and Professor Gariye. The true icons of a revolting nation. Mr.Riyalle, Gossiping and lying go together, but gratitude and greed, go not together. We have failed to convince you that tolerance is a two – way – street, and it is the last lesson of the school of wisdom. The blessing of the earth – planet is toil. Honor lies in honest toil. Trash – talk and empty – promise pays no toil. Our sincerity and determination is more stronger than Tomahawks missiles of money – laundering of Mr.Riyale and his wolves. Regardless to their color, creed or faith. Emotions have no room in our plan of tomorrow. Mr.Riyalle, hold your tongue under your teeth until you know, who is who. Because your tongue is in a wet place and it is likely to slip. We will never trade a hero with a sore – toe. We must have iron – cage of nerves to stand your turmoil and brain – torture. The family that prays together, stays together. Today is the tomorrow that we worried about yesterday. Wolves clipping on their claws, never make them lose their taste for blood. He is poor that God hates. Your politics is the mother of graft. Half is false of what we hear.


Taxation without representation is a tyranny, and rebellion to a tyrant is obedience to God. The truth that crushed to death, will rise on the earth again.
Remember, it takes a dictator a lot of time and effort to build an iron – curtain; but it takes seconds for the masses to destroy all his false castles.
Mr.Riyalle, please give us back our mandate; and take back again your wet blanket and go back to sleep.
Mr.Riyale, I hate to say I told you, but I did.
Hurrah! Democracy Defeated Dictatorship.

Yusuf Deyr,
Hargeisa