SCREAM!

SCREAM! 

I look around and all I see is smoke, sadness, lost hope, hatred…despair.

Sickening news. Ignorance overload. Judgments. And Me versus. You.

What motivates you to wake up from bed every morning? What drives you to be your best self each day? What makes you smile to strangers you’ve never met before? What makes you believe that this world is worth fighting for? What makes you tolerate intolerance? Compress your anger, swallow your scream.. When all you want is to scream.

Scream. ScreaM. scrEAM. SCREAM.

Go climb a mountain.Even if you end up falling upside down.

Drive till you find an isolated place where birds don’t fly and clouds are black.

Jog till you find yourself in the middle of the forest. Run from this collapsing world.

Find an empty basement, if you need to dig your own.

Be creative as long as you get to SCREAM.

Scream. As long as you take all that negative energy from your chest. Scream as long as you take one step towards healing. Scream as long as you’re not letting it rot inside you. Take it out on the air maybe it would be considered air pollution but hey it can’t be worse than carbon monoxide!

Scream all that resides within you, all the unsaid words, all the sad news, all the hateful comments, all the war pictures, all the murdered kids, the bereaved mothers. Scream for the fathers who were helpless and sank in their own tears. Scream. 

They go bombing your land, colonising your continent, raping your women, murdering your people then complain about you? Call you names? Stereotype you. Scream it.

Because you know they were plotting this for years and years. Scream it. Because we were out-smarted. Scream it because you don't need anyone's pity or sympathy. 

Scream and restore your strength, your humanity. Your stamina. They can’t see us like this, we can’t be sucked out of energy-positive energy.

Scream it because Hawo Tako stood strong. Scream it because this is the least we can do; to stay sane amidst all this insanity. 

Let it go. Because guess what? We need YOU. Your people need you. The healthy you.

We can’t lose you. It’s not Me versus. You. It's US versus. The World.

So let’s do what we gotta do.

Otherwise, we will forever be surrounded by smoke, sadness, lost hope, hatred…despair.

May Allah Subahanu Watalaa lift our spirit up and make us true believers. 

 By: Asia Aboosy 

Aleppo.. Ya Allah!

WE ARE THE MUTE DEVILS


Yes, this world is very depressing and everyone seems like they're in their own bubble in their own isolated world, viewing the world problems as if they were irrelevant or to no concern to them.

It's just sad.

How the most we can do now is just on social media. Yet we can't even do that.

Sometimes when scrolling down through our news feed, we don't even stop to read or listen, we just scroll past it. Sometimes if we are being benevolent we share their pain! sometimes we're too worry if we share that "disturbing video of people being killed, or children bleeding or starving in the cold" it might disturb our friends on FB and gives them a "nightmare".

We can't even spare them a minute to focus on their pain, to make a quick sincere Dua'a (prayer), to at least hit the "share " button so that maybe, just maybe someone else might see it, who can ACTUALLY do something about it.


When Somalia's civil war erupted, Syrian opened their arms for Somali refugees and never treated them like sub-humans. When Iraq war happened, Syrians opened their doors again to their Iraqi brothers and sisters and welcomed them with open hearts, never complaining of the price hike that happened as the result. When the fight between Hizbullah and Israel happened in Lebanon, Syrians, jumped to rescue the Lebanese refugees with everything they could offer, sometimes even sharing the power with them.

But..We all know what Syrians faced and the treatment they received from the neighbouring countries when they were most in need.

But Karma! Karma never goes away.

But what to do??? seriously, what can we do???

How can we help a burning child, how can we warm the kids who are dying because of the cold? how can we feed them when families have nothing to eat but grass and flour? how can we sweep the cries of a bereaved mother? or a still living-dead inside- father/husband who just witnessed his wife and mother being raped in front of him?

A bit graphic description for your eyes?!

It's just sad! And you, my friend, is pathetic!

We live in an era where the internet is a powerful tool, where our voices collectively may-can- lead to some sort of change/action.

Yet we are "too lazy" to even do that.

It's just sad!

That we choose to numb our senses with stupid TV shows, dramas, Snapchat, Instagram and celebrity news that keeps on trending because people are interested in the perfume they wear?.


Lifeless! Aren't we?!

Meanwhile, Syrians are burning and dying.

Karma!

Let's live our lives, let's continue riding our buses and driving around like nothing is happening, let be selfish.. and superficial and ..cowards.

There is this Arabic saying that goes like this "الساكت عن الحق شيطان اخرس"

"The one who keeps silent from telling the truth is a mute devil"

Are you a mute devil? Are you a participant of killing Syrians by keeping silent and ignoring the issue?

I will leave you with this Hadith.

The messenger of Allah, peace and blessings be upon him, said:

"The parable of the believers in their affection, mercy, and compassion for each other is that of a body. When any limb aches, the whole body reacts with sleeplessness and fever"

The least we can do is to feel their pain, to put ourselves in their shoes and empathise, what would we want the world to do if we were in their place?

Raise your voice to their support. Make effort and make a dua'a in the third part of the night when Allah descends to the seventh sky and ask his servants to request anything from him.

May Allah rescue and protect our brothers and sisters in Aleppo and all Syria,. Oh Allah, the Ummah and the world have failed them, and all they have is You. Please protect them, punish those who have slaughtered them, and make their suffering purification for them from their sins.

Amee Ya Rab.

*Asia Aboosy

I walk aimlessly , cluelessly..trying to pull my own weight. Every step feels like ascending the moon with one single large step ripping my two legs apart. I have my headphones plugged into my ears yet I can't hear a sound.

I walllkkkkk..I walkkkkk, aimlessly, One STEP followed by ANOTHER..

Then I hear a very loud honking noise breaking into the buzz of my ears. A car almost hit me..some slurs..I stand still. I freeze..

I continue standing..I feel heavy..I think I cant reach my home..I walk again,aimlessly, trying to drag my weight ..and walk home. I check the street number, Ughhhh I am wayyyy passed home and curfew.

I should walk back, I should turn 360° around "you should turn aroundddd" I tell myself. But..but my body feels like a huge castle today, like a wheel stuck and sunk in a deep mud.

"Should I call a Taxi to take me home"..I turn my neck around to look for my bag..I don't see my bag or HAND..OHHH MYYYY GOOOD where is my RIGHT HAND..my right hand is MISSING. Someone stole my right hand with the BAG..How will I ever eat again..or..drink or..write.

I freeze again. My head turns and turns. I feel paralyzed and heavy and lost and without my right hand or a bag or a phone or some money....

"How will I ever find home???!". I wonder.

 Suddenly the waves in my mind calm. I hear myself. I hear my self clearly saying

"I will learn how to use my left hand, I will learn how to eat and drink and SURVIVE"

And if I successfully turned my neck around  I can also turn my body.

So I turned around.

And walked ..aiming my home.

My body still felt heavy, very heavy actually but its my body and I need to carry it anyway, I need to learn how to carry it and feel light.

I found home.

Guess what else I found..?

I found my RIGHT HAND grabbing and clutching onto my hand bag.

And ,so, I felt light and jumped towards my bag to grab my phone and check what I had missed.

I am sorry but at this moment I don’t care about the -SomaliaWeNeverSee.

At this moment there are soldiers /tribe men/militants, I don’t even know what to call them on standby in Galkacyo waiting for the first bullet to be fired. In fact two days ago there were fired bullets from one side that killed my uncle (my father’s first cousin) and another man who had hearing disabilities.

 His name was Ina Istur, I was very acquainted with him when I was working in our hotel back home. He was the security guard of the Galdogob Mayor. Although Somalia is tough on people with disabilities he had a free spirit and was full of jokes and laughter, he radiated with positivity and managed to always shine the place he was in. I was horrified when I was told he was dead and was killed by a flying bullet, he left three girls behind. My uncle too was killed; a bullet entered his left kidney and came out from the other (may Allah have mercy on his soul).

I know I am being graphic but I don’t know why the state of Galkacyo is so pathetic like that, I don’t know if its sheer tribalism or power struggle or lack of accountability and Deen.

Somalis pride themselves in being Muslims and very conservative yet they take the spilling of blood very lightly as if they’re not going into dark graves and won’t be held accountable before a just Lord where “I was taking revenge for my cousin/tribe or my perceived honour” won’t benefit them in anyway.

 من أجل ذلك كتبنا على بني إسرائيل أنه من قتل نفسا بغير نفس أو فساد في الأرض فكأنما قتل الناس جميعا ومن أحياها فكأنما أحيا الناس جميعا ولقد جاءتهم رسلنا بالبينات ثم إن كثيرا منهم بعد ذلك في الأرض لمسرفون

“Because of that, We decreed upon the Children of Israel that whoever kills a soul unless for a soul or for corruption [done] in the land – it is as if he had slain mankind entirely. And whoever saves one – it is as if he had saved mankind entirely. And our messengers had certainly come to them with clear proofs. Then indeed many of them, [even] after that, throughout the land, were transgressors.”

Unless we respect the blood and respect the doctrines of our Deen, our situation in Somalia won’t change. Unless we learn compassion and act like Prophet Muhammed (PBUH) we will never thrive.

Sometimes, I pride myself in being a descendant form the great city of Galkacyo, where people are resilient and tough, where people are humorous despite their circumstances, where people are hospitable and optimistic, where people are cultured and nice.

But sometimes -like today- I feel ashamed of being from a city that fights often, a city that kills with cold blood, a city that doesn’t read into beyond their immediate selfish interest or the consequences of their action, a city where families live in fear and horror, a city where if your child leaves to school you might never see him/her again.

When I hear the news coming from Galkacyo and other unstable cities in Somalia and simultaneously see the –SomaliaYouNeverSee – posts I become furious. "Why are you people being insensitive?" I think. Right now I care less about the SomaliaINeverSee, because honestly it isn’t there to be seen.

Maybe it’s an escape mechanism. Maybe it’s denial method. Maybe it’s having the strength of positivity amongst all the negativity. Maybe it’s a sign of hope. Or maybe it’s just wishful thinking.

And it is wishful thinking unless we change it from a hastag
to reality. How do we do that?

You know how when we need answers to questions that we don’t know we go and open Google?. Our Google is our Qura’an. How about we open it for change and see what is says about changing ourselves before Allah changes our circumstances. How about we read the part where Allah (SWT) says 

“And not equal are the good deed and the bad. Repel [evil] by that [deed] which is better; and thereupon the one whom between you and him is enmity [will become] as though he was a devoted friend.”

By: Asia Aboosy 

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

Some days…
I want to feel powerful.
 Like thunder storms.
 like tisunami waves.
So confident, I can kill you with a smile.
My energy so hype You’d think i swallowed the candy store.
Somedays, I just want to feel lazy
curl on my sofa like a mellow cat
Like a sleeping baby.
turn off my tv, log out of facebook
worry free.
I want to be
Insignificant. sealed. From outside world.
Somedays,
Just Somedays
I believe I’m a hero.
I embrace others pain
I’m an empath
 Somedays it gets a little too much
just too much hate
Too much anger.
Too much killing.
Too much blood.
Too much segregation.
Too much cries.
Too much misery.
And I just wonder when it will all end
When will it stop
Somedays,
I plug my ears with my fears of tomorrow
How are we supposed to bring kids to this world ?
And raise them on the principals<br>
 of peace
Love
Tolerance
And Compassion
When there is ..
No peace
 love
 tolerance
Or compassion
I will be a hypocrite mother
A liar
An irrelavant teacher
If I dont lay the truth before their eyes
like it is
Naked
Bare truth with
no colors
Or filters
Or photoshop..
Somedays, i dream of a world
Where children arent the extension of adults egos
Or fears.
somedays..I dream, what if we had a separate planet for people who dont choose to hate. .

By: Asia Aboosy