The trip that tuned out into a dream
Mohamed Kheir
Whenever I travel and I am about to reach my destination, a
feeling of sadness strikes me; as that destination is not that original ‘Home’
that I left many years back. Yet, I feel glad to see people that are happy to
have come back home. The dead rest in peace, but those of us who are alive and
have some conscience live, dying all the time. The regime has destroyed our
homes, our lives, our careers, everything. In a way, those of us who are lucky
enough to have survived the physical and mental damage or both feel not only
obliged but also determined to struggle to create a better future for the next
generation. The destination this time was a bit different.
‘Uscita’, ‘Vietato fumare’, ‘bagalio’, are the words that
one meets at the airport and then you hear ‘boun gjorno, ciao, bouna sera’ ….
Whenever I visit Roma my few old Italian words become revived and that sense of
Italian colonialism come back and you feel that there is something of you
there. Few years back a friend told me about one ardent supporter of the
Eritrean regime who talked proudly of how the Italians copied Asmara when they
built Rome. Rome is just so rich in history that you can hardly cover that
irrespective of how many times you have been there. It also reminds you about
the Ascari who fought for Italy and
some of them came to Rome for training. It reminds you the time Mussolini paid
a visit to an Eritrean military contingent in Monte
Sacro in Rome on the 5th of May 1937.
But the dream started a couple of days back when my wife
came from Sanaa and we had a long discussion on the current events there. I had
met an Affar intellectual who told me about the history of the Affar, their
links to Yemen and other neighbouring regions, their independent Sultanates
that signed agreements with foreign powers before the advent of the influence
of Italian and French colonialism in the area. The evening before our travel,
we met a Yemeni Professor, at the University of Sanaa (in the company of a
Sudanese family), who studied the genetic composition of the Yemenis and
compared that with those of people in the Horn of Africa (Ethiopia, Eritrea,
Sudan and Djibouti) and how much similarity there was.
In Rome, Fatouma, a friend from Djibouti offered us to stay
in her flat that was available. We fetch the keys from an Italian friend and we
get a warm welcome from three generations. We stayed in Garbatella with its
beautifully designed old buildings and too many elderly people. You feel it is
a place that has defied death with its many ‘Farmacia’ some of which are
specialised in catering orthopedical and other materials needed by the elderly.
There we enjoyed having a Cornetto and a Cappuccino every morning at the
Garbatella Fooball Club Caffe and the old man who served us would ask each day
‘Multi Bouno’. I was told never to order a Cappuccino after 11 O’clock as that
would not be liked, it is becoming un-Italian.
One evening we had dinner with this extraordinary genuine,
caring and helpful friend from another area of the Horn. Another day we meet
this incredibly happy trio, Eritrean-Italians. At another evening, we met an
Ethiopian–Somali, who I found to be an embodiment of all that is good about the
Horn of Africa. He is fluent in his own
native language, besides other languages in the Horn: Amharic, some Tigrinya,
Arabic and other international languages. He drives us across the city, shows us
a building in the center of the city where asylum seekers, mostly from the Horn
and others have occupied. It is usually Italian leftists who act-in and promote
such activities helping not only the needy but also helping their agenda(s). I
say, why not; Italy has occupied Eritrea, Ethiopia and Italian Somaliland and
don’t we have to occupy some residences, here. He drives us past ‘Palazzo
Venezia’ where Mussolini
used to address crowds, including where he boasted the Italian occupation
of Addis Ababa in 1935.
He follows events in the Horn closely, he is a fan of
Awate.com and follows the arguments between Ethiopians and Eritreans there, and
he told me that it is where he came to know about me first. He also follows
other Eritrean websites such as Asmarino.com and follows Dr. Russom Mesfun’s Face
the Erespora. He tells us a joke where the head of state in some country was inaugurating
a railway line. The President addresses
the gathering saying, ‘Look you used to travel between here and the capital for
more than nine days, but now you can reach your destination in one day. He was
expecting jubilation and clapping but the audience did not. They were simply murmuring
and talking to each other. In the end
the President asked what the problem was, and they replied ‘what are we going to
do with the remaining 8 days?’.
He then tells us about Mengistu Lemma’s Amharic poetry “Basha Ashebir beAmerica”,
a brilliant exposé of Habesha’s take on racisim in America. The story revolves around Basha Ashebir’s
encounters in the 60s America where he went as a delegate of the Ethiopian
Government. His specific encounter in a coffee bar where he was not welcome is
at the heart of the Poem’s message. In
the bar, Basha asks repeatedly to be served but the Barista simply ignores him
and then tells him that this bar is not for his type. Not understanding what
that means Basha insists to be served. The back and forth led to some scuffles that
in the end landed Basha in prison. In prison he met an African American and there,
an interesting discussion started on race relations. Basha argues that the sons
of “sem” have no business in the fight between the sons of “Kam” - supposed to
be the father of the black race - and “Yaphet” - supposed to be the father of
the white race (all three are supposed to be the sons of Noah). The poem
concludes with Basha in the end understanding where the African-American is
coming from and not only sympathizes with him but also realises that he is in
the same boat. One of the verses reads,
"yemojaw
tewelaj yeTerahut Menzyie Shagolle Shanquilla tebieye meyazie". We discuss how Ethiopia
is managing its diversity and how federalism is gradually empowering those
people who have been marginalized for long in taking care of their own affairs.
We agree that the biggest problem facing African countries is managing their
diversity.
Grazie Claudio
From time to time, wax in one of my ears solidifies and
makes hearing difficult. When I left to Rome I had that problem. The wax would
usually disappear when I use special ear medication that dissolve it. This time
it was stubborn, I tried several liquids and even an ear candle that you burn
holding to the ear that is meant to dissolve the wax but didn’t work. We went
to a ‘farmacia’ and asked the usual question. “Parlare Inglese”, this time the
answer was not the usual, “Poco, poco”. But it was, “yesss, aaa litttlle”. I
explained the problem and asked if there was a clinic where we can go to in the
neighbourhood. Claudio took a couple of telephone calls to check. When he found
they were closed, he went with us to a nearby, “Studio Medico” and asked Dottore
Sergio if he could help. Sergio told us to come the next morning. We went to
the clinic the next morning and we met his secretary and it was difficult to
communicate. When we tried the little Italian we knew, used gestures and used
English, she could not understand us. Then 4 persons, who were waiting for the
Doctor in the clinic came and each one used an Italian word and so the four of
them made a tangible sentence. Later the Doctor came and pumped out the wax and
it was a relief that the last 24 hours before my travel back, I could hear
Italy, well with my both ears. We went to thank Claudio for his help and it was
still kind of him to ask again, “Was the price too much”. We told him it was
fair and we left. Grazie Claudio and Garzie to all the nice Italians we met.
The night before we left we were invited by a couple from
another region of the Horn who previously not only lived in the Sudan, but
loved it. Though the invitation was for a drink, it turned out to be a
mini-dinner. Then we had to run to catch up with a typical Italian dinner with
our Italian friend in the company of a Japanese family. I reflect that some of our
modern political links and boundaries in the Horn started here with the Italian
connection.
After spending an internet and TV-free week in Italy and
having interacted with many incredible citizens from the Horn, I had a dream
about the ‘The United Federal States of the Horn of Africa’, Why Not, WHY NOT.
I have written in one my of my previous articles at
awate.com, after attending a seminar on the region, “The Horn of Africa is home
to more than 100 million people with hundreds of ethnic groups. It is a dynamic
multi-racial, multi-cultural, multi-religious region. Its landscape varies from
vast formidable deserts to high mountains, plateaus and fertile agricultural
areas. It has produced people who are resilient to the adversities of nature
and perhaps has contributed to yield tough fighters. It is partly home to the
Great Rift Valley. It encompasses pastoral, agro-pastoral and farmer
communities. More often than not, clashes between the mobile pastoralists and
the sedentary farmers are causes to some of the wars in the region and perhaps
potential for further conflicts. It is a home to the oldest human fossils and
settlements; origin of coffee that influenced the political landscape in both
Arabia and Europe; source of the Blue Nile and its importance for livelihoods
of millions of people; and a the first region that hosted religiously
persecuted Moslems from Arabia as refugee by a Christian king—a symbol of
religious dialogue and tolerance. The region is home to the ancient Meroic and
Axumite civilisations and home to the oldest written scripts in Africa.”
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