Morning Thoughts and Marbels..

Morning thoughts..

I pick up my soul like marble balls scattered on the ground. It’s everywhere you turn into, almost encompassing and frightening all the same. I need to re-build my pieces, find my pieces and keep collected to feel peace. 

Peace? Is a foreign tongue to me, to us.

Peace is nowhere to be found in the land of turmoil, the land of the strong; where lions always win and rule.

Peace is nowhere in the near future when positions of power are seen as form of control instead of responsibility, instead of “All of you are guardians and are responsible for your wards. The ruler is a guardian and responsible for his subjects ...etc”

Peace is nowhere to be found when religion becomes a tool, a culture instead of character. Peace is nowhere to be found when boys are forced to be men and girls have no choice but to chase womanhood. Because being a girl isn’t cool enough, because make-up is cool, because your own skin should be painted sometimes sealed with tons of powder.

Peace is nowhere to be found when we are busy pinpointing other's flaws and neglecting our own. When we judge each other on how fleek our eyebrows are, really?! When we descend to that level of superficialness, you know the marble balls aren’t close to be found.

I am afraid that I will be searching much longer,maybe many more decades I am afraid that, by then I will no longer recognise my marble balls. Let alone find them and collect them.

Asia Aboosy 

A Letter to my Younger Self..

A Letter to My Younger Self

Asia, tomorrow marks your first day of college. Your 18 years old now. You will go to your first class in Computer Engineering and be surprised at how many male students are there. At first, you won’t see any Hijabi at the campus and you will feel extremely uncomfortable and foreigner, although, your still within the borders of the land where you spend your past eleven years. College will be full with Syrian and Iraqi students and you will be the only outstanding black, the only fully covered girl.


Don’t panic! Don’t blame yourself for being different. Don’t wish you looked like the rest. Just don’t. Years later you will come to know about your culture and country and realize that Somalia is more than a displaced nation, starved children and massive explosions. That black isn’t less beautiful then blue eyes and fair skin. 

Years later- six years to be exact- you will visit Somalia and you will finally fit. You will finally appease your longing for a place where you truly call home. Where you blend in. You will live with your first Somali- aside from your sisters-roommates. You will be exposed to Somali songs and you will learn how to dance to them, you won’t necessary learn dhanto but nonetheless, you will gain something way more crucial; how to chant your own rhythm.



That one year you will spend in Somalia will change YOU forever-and I mean FOREVER- of course to the better. That year will answer many of your pressing questions and wonders that kept knocking on your head for answers no matter how much you assimilated to the Syrian culture or knew about their history and politics and breathed their air. 

You always had that longing inside you to your blood home where grandma lived, where Ma and Pa met, where the mahmahs originated from. You had that thirst in you even when it wasn’t that evident, it manifested in the form of never-ending series of questions when your parents talked about home nostalgically.


Somalia will be very challenging and adventurous. You will have your first ever paying job there and you will learn how to alter your dreams, how to adjust your purpose. You will realize, among many things, how lucky you were all along. Your students will make you feel very important and informative, at times though; they might get fed up with your many examples and scenarios. Enjoy that experience.


One day, as your teaching general Psychology in one of your classes, one student will raise his hand and ask you “how can I study Psychology in Somalia?” you will be baffled and answer to your best judgement. Meanwhile, that will debunk your expectation about the state of Psychology and mental health in Somalia; what every Somali elder told you before about Psychology being a myth and having no future in Somalia. That incident will break that mantra in your head forever.


Another day, while you’re explaining a concept in Somali, you will notice your students staring at you blankly, then you will realize that they didn’t understand some of your words because your Somali slang is different from theirs. You will still find your way to them. You won’t feel like a foreigner. The whole scene will be so cute, them realizing that a street for you is “lamii” and to them is “zani”.


Sometimes, Somalia will be harsh, Somalis will act ignorant. Don’t be harsh. Don’t blame them. Don’t complain. Don’t be part of the problem. Don’t act like your better because you’re not. And most importantly, don’t judge. Don’t judge.

Interact with people. Learn about your culture. Ask questions, many question-a thread of questions if you want they will be please to answer. Listen to the elders. Be patient with them and even when you disagree with them, keep quite, don’t try to explain your own views, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.


A year later, people will think your very fluent in your mother tongue “Somali”. People will refer to you as “reermudug”, a sign that you display the characteristic of that region. Occasionally, you will refer to yourself as “Reer Mudug” too with a smirk in your face secretly happy that you finally have a HOME that you finally identify with.

At the end, you will know more about your dhaqan (culture). You will learn about the concept of “Calaf”. And all those changes that you went through will lead you to meet your “calaf” in a land that’s far from home, yet you will recognize home in him.


I am in Canada now. I am a Family Worker. I work with my people. And I still have plans to do my graduate school. And Somalia? Till we meet again Inshallah. :)

Asia Aboosy from the future XoXo