Politics can not divide love hearts

By Abdi-Noor Hagi Mohamed

I have read most of the literature written about Somaliland’s issue of secession by highly qualified scholars, The ICG reports and response given by the Samatar’s. I have also listened to Northerners in the South as well as Southerners in the North. And in fact I paid a visit recently to Hargeisa, Somaliland, on my way to Djibouti and Ethiopia and spent days there while waiting for airline connection.

I did not talk to anybody about politics but carefully listened to the whistling sound of the secession winds. My last time I visited Hargeisa was in the last quarter of 1987 when the reign of terror of the Barre regime in that region was shockingly inhumane.

One night during that visit I remember a young man being led into a bush by gun totting soldiers who found him violating the curfew rules which expired 8:00 PM. It was around 9:00 when the soldiers seized him. We were too guilty of exercising our freedom of movement but fortunately we were released soon after a stern warning by the head of the squad. We had a permission letter to attend a marriage ceremony until 8:30 PM but showed up at the check point much later than the time we were authorized to move.

I returned to Hargeisa nearly twenty years after that incident and walked in the city until everybody went to bed. Nobody stopped me query my movements; no soldiers, no curfews, no intimidation and harassment. I called the night ” Freedom Night in Hargeisa”.

I compared the two nights and found out the difference was something that can never be compared. With all the personal assessments I have made I’m speechless and have nothing to come up more than this poem.  

As I walked on the lovely Beach of Berbera
A soothing breeze touched me in the soul
Thinking seriously of my future darling
My eyes had struck a glaring  beauty
I saw a girl playing on the sand
She had a sketch on her fingers
I greeted her gently as I passed by
In return I received a flash of a smile
Khadra looked up at me curiously
Then looked down on the sketch
I was the man she was drawing
She was the girl I was dreaming
In the shores of romance
We collected shells of love
Countries can remain divided politically
But never can politics divide hearts of love