Waberi youth Association is a fellowship of like minded Somali Australian Youth working with and for the community to achieve the best attainable community.

The event was full of culture, heated debates of the Somali Identity, Speeches, spoken word
and the profound acting which got the audience falling off their seats with laughter. The Elite of Somali community in Perth have taken part and the aroma of Somali cultural items where displayed with authenticity, it was quite an experience if you ask me.

Umulkhayr on the left is the author of the poem

Waberi believes in planting the seed today for tomorrow hence, the highlights of the Dhaqan iyo Dhalinyaro event for me personally was the Poem written by my little sister who is 15 and born in Australia.

She has written a poem titled "The Land of the Poets" for this event and to share her view of the Somali Diaspora. She has never experienced the struggle of the Somali people and the land of the poets was only a figment of imagination, until recently when she tagged along her mother to see a war torn Somalia.

When she was reading this poem , I was looking into the audience and have noticed the tears on the faces as she got emotional. I could hear whispers from audience "Wow , that is very inspirational".

I hope you enjoy.

I come from the land of poets
The nation where true poetry resides
Spoken-word is our art
Passed down generations, told with pride

But recently
My land has been torn
And instead hatred and hostility
Has been born

Oh and through crying
Eyes thus swollen
It seems the voice of the poets
Has been stolen

Gone are the sweet melodies
And songs sung from trees
No more gabay
While sipping on tea

And

Cities once hustlin’ and bustlin’
All the time
Now prime zones
Of organized crime

And what once were
The most luscious of women
Now skin and bones and
Dying of malnutrition

And the children,
Oh they have been told
Whatever you want
You could have it, just be bold

Then they surround them
With guns, blood and gore
And when their report cards come
They wonder why they don’t score.

Now their dreams have been
Crushed and burnt to the floor
Do they have a choice
But to join the war?

Oh but the grandmothers
With the smooth ebony skin
They just kneel down to pray
With tears falling from their chin
And they say:

Oh my people...
What are these tribes and clans we speak of?
Are our mothers and fathers not of the same people?

Is not the blood of our brothers of the same importance as our own?
And is not the land we are scarring the very land we call home?

Oh and they wonder
When it will all come to an end
When they can sing and celebrate
Happiness again

When the children come home
And the men come to their senses
When the land is reformed
With no sign of pretenses

Will that day ever come?
Is it written in our fate?
Will the land of the poets
Be Somalia the Great?

will the tears we cry
Ever be of happiness not fear?
And will the air we breathe
Ever not be smoke full, but clear

And will my people join hands
And march together once more
Singing “Viva! Somalia,
Peace for all”

And will gabay fill the air
With sweet sounds of prayer
Oh will the land of the poets
Be the land of the poets once more?

By Mohamed Foore
E-Mail:Mooro@iprimus.com.au
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