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THE POEM THAT PUT SOMALIA ON THE MAP Prof. M. S. Togane A
stone cast —A Somali saying
You are not gonna live forever — A Somali saying
Here is the poem That put Somalia on the literary map of the world Here is the poem That immortalized Arfaye Here is the poem That made Togane more famous than the town The Japanese named Togane After Togane’s father Here is the poem That proved The Faith of Hawa Isse Alasow In her son Togane When she broadcasted When she baramburred her ode When her love for her son Boss-teye The champ that chews up chumps When he chows down When her love for her son Bubbled over Wixii buug dhigi jire waa ka wada baqen: All those who once penned books Are panicking now Because of Boss-teye! Here is the poem that Gilbert H. Muller Of the City University of New York John A. Williams Of Rutgers University Put in their book Called Bridges: Literature
across Cultures To the lyrical legacy of the Somali race Here is the poem That students across the world Now mark and study and copy In their notebooks Here is Arfaye The metaphor of Mogadishu Mister Mogadishu When Mogadishu was no mean city:
A man without a nickname is like a goat without horns. —A Somali saying
Arfaye: the sweet-smelling one Fattest Somali In the city of Mogadishu City without deodorants Everybody knows his nickname And the irony that sweetens the truth Nobody knows his real name I can see him now In my mind’s eye In the middle of Main Street In the frying sun Melting away About to drown In his sweaty khaki uniform Flinging sweat away from his eyes Trying to direct a traffic of stubborn donkeys Skittish camels (Impatient drivers poking their behinds) Hauling grass and milk Donkey-carts driver by heedless drivers Who claim the city belongs to their clan and donkeys Goats Sheep Cattle All on their way to the slaughterhouse Jay walkers Paraplegic beggars scuttling on all fours (An American nicknamed them spidermen) Beeping Fiats and thunder-farting ancient Mussolini trucks without mufflers Out of this medley Sometimes A relief A release Would appear Quivering breasts of a careless bushwoman Or some undulating steatopygous behind Then Arfaye would pause Tilt his head In worshipful wonder Flash a smile And throw darts of
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