by Sahro Ahmed Koshin
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
I am the sister of the martyr.
I am the aunt of the potato seller at the local market.
I am the daughter of the local sheikh.
I am the injured of the revolution, the protester, the jailed, the detained.
I am the tortured, the exiled, the kidnapped, the raped.
I am the veiled, the non-veiled, I am a beautiful soul.
I am a Somali woman.
My skin is of ebony and ivory, I am young by spirit, old by experience.
I am the pregnant, the wife, the single mother, the widow, the godobtiir and godobreeb tool forcing me into marriage as the compensation payment for another clan’s peace settlement.
I am a Somali woman.
Yet I am not a victim, I am a leader.
Not a woman leader, but a leader who happens to be a woman.
I clean up the streets of my nation, I rise up the past, the present and the future generations.
I brought the Nobel Peace Price to Somalia.
I am a Somali woman.
I speak out for my son at school.
I speak up for my daughter in the madrasa.
I pray for my ancestors and for my older son in jail, for my mother in the hospital.
I speak out for our artists whom they keep bombing in theaters and on the streets.
I am a Somali woman.
I speak out for my mind, I am the pulse of the people.
I live in the city, in the town, in the rural areas, in the suburb, in the mountains, on the borders. I am in Garowe, Mogadihsu, Afgoye, Hargeisa, Galkayo, Bosaaso, Beletweyne, Badhan, Bocame and every corner where there is life and sound
I am a Somali woman.
I boost the economy, I advance the technology, I give life to the community.
Do I deserve to be equal to you?
YES I do because I am a woman.
A Somali woman.