09 Mar Give it to me!
by: Abdi Abdullahi Mohamed
I was exactly in my first ages of life, I had a burning curiosity for everything. I enjoyed the wide expanse of the Indian Ocean and felt its breeze and inquisitively looked up the blue flag flapping above me.
It was really my good moments, moments of happiness, moments of freedom, moments I never thought they will changes their courses.
I strongly remember my mother having a fine figure and strong dignified appearance. I still picture the chocolate faces of my siblings– my sister and by brother, whom I always treasured the many moments of pleasure we spent together.
But after learning all these adventure of the enticing world, after I felt the freedom, everything drastically changed unexpectedly. Everything changed to the worst, it changed to what my young mind could not figure our and indeed could not think of.
It was really my most ugliest tragedy with a blend of harrowing experiences. It was a tragedy that has taken away all my beloved family away all my beloved family except my two young sisters. It drained all the blood of my father out, and also reduced the beautiful bodies of my mother and siblings into a charcoal and turned them sooty and unidentifiable. It was really a tragedy, a dreadful tragedy that is imprinted in my mind.
And within just a month, by beautiful world in Kismayu swiftly changed. It was my first time to hear a refugee and saw a refugee camp. It carried many troubles, it was really security hazard with many bandits. I really hated, hated and hated. There was no the sea, the fish, the games and there was no the blue flag, but only a narrow tent that was hot during the day and cold at night where bandits could creep into.
There was no company, life was really alone and there was no parent to turn to for resolution. I really ploughed a lonely furrow without the support of anyone when I was less than ten years.
Later, Sharifo, my younger sister fell prey to the cruel bandits and died as a result of the rape complications. It was more distressing and I only remained with Abshiro as the only sister on earth– the youngest of all. This made me hate life, hate the whole world and too hate existence at all.
Many were the times I asked myself where I belonged but remained unanswered. I realized I was lost and never belonged anywhere. I realized that I had nothing that could give me my identity and a sense of belonging.
But luckily after sometimes I was one of the few families who were granted a resettlement opportunities as in 1991 protection cases. I fulfilled all resettlement criteria and I was clearly approved. This gave me a glimmer of hope. I thought I had a foreseeable future and got a true identity.
Immediately, the American Embassy imposed a DNA test– a test on the deoxyribonucleic acid which the basic constituent of the gene to check if families were truly related.
So the Embassy told me, Abshiro was not my biological sister using the DNA test result as justifications and took her to America leaving me behind alone. What have I done? Is this my mistake? Am I a parent to justify that? These are my day and night questions…
Currently I feel I am abandoned and lost in between nowhere, since I am unable to unravel the full mystery of my identity, but a chance! A chance! A chance will give it to me!!!