My conversation with Xamar Cadey

It's all I've ever known. All I've ever referred to myself as,when they ask I say: gabar soomaaliyeed oo ku dhalatay Xamar cadey aan ahay.
At times wanting to roar from the top of the mountains but there were times the lioness in me retrieved back to the little cub finding her voice with a silent little hesitant whisper.
I am a second generation somali you see, I am a child of civil war. There's forever been this deep, intense passionate fire in my soul that is the love and respect I have for my ancestors. Love for the land with every fibre of my being.
But I am a second generation somali you see, a child of civil war. I was denied my rightful throne. Birth certificate burnt, libraries and schools blown up. Had no choice but to leave the warmth of my mothers embrace and my kingdom, the cool ocean breeze and the warm protection of that village that was meant to raise me.
 Departing on what was meant to be in the safety of my Moses basket, just for the oceans to spit me up at what was meant to be my Jerusalem.
Physically safe, mentally at war, sword drawn, emotionally ship wrecked in no mans land. Spiritual disconnection was what was planned for me and my generation. Our history books buried under the tree.
Was this the vision the brave warriors had when they shed blood sweat and tears to gain back what was once taken away from them 70 years ago? What is rightfully mine? Kings and queens we were born as, adopted into a world of family destruction and spiritual damnation. Without the connection to the motherland how do we rise and once again claim our rightful throne?
You see I am a second generation somali, I hear the call of the old tree. I am finding my books, my history, my heritage.

My love for you will stand the test of time.
For you once again I will cross seas, forgive me if I have been gone too long but I'm coming home Hooyo macaan.

Will you take my hand and march with me?

We let our girls open their eyes to a world full of competition and battles from every angle to just BE. Yes this is a race, can be a race. But to wake up to a world where your success is capped, your beauty is dictated, your value is set at a price, your size, your shape, a number, a man? Is that the world mother earth intended for these queens to open their eyes to? We allow our queens to believe from an early age that their value is their looks, they gotta compete with that. Your appearance is your sword. You are born with it in your hand, sharpen it. This is not your only weapon to take on the world, a great woman once told me. Line up your armour, become educated, explore, polish it. Remember your sword. Sharpen it, a skilled warrior must not necessarily use force to win a battle, bear that in mind she said. Yes a sword is a useful weapon, but in a 21st century warfare is it the most effective tool to come to attack with?You can only battle one with no sword or another sword. You have no chance to take on the man with the nuclear bomb. Your sword is outdated. Your beauty has an expiration date. Your body is a ticking time bomb. Weight is a problem. The colour of your skin is an issue it's either not light enough or tanned enough. The shape of your body isn't appeasing to the man. So for that reason you must alter it, despise it, demean it or subject it to destruction. So instead of sharpening this sword, practicing daily as part of a regime not a sole source of protection, rely on it alone by just polishing and dusting it. With that comes ruin. A sword has no use without sharpening, without practising the right technique. No point going into attack without equipping yourself with the right armour and effective planning and strategy. Without the whole package our queens do nothing else but crushing the inner majestic light that every queen is born with. Without realising they consent to their own destruction and every generation to follow.
Shame is one word our girls know far too well like the back of their hand unlike our boys. We are experts at teaching them what shame is. From looks to what career is suitable for a female, from birth we give them the impression that being born a female makes you automatically guilty. Seek marriage, have a career that doesn't offend the male. Then you might be off the hook, so you can increase the population that is blind to the beauty and strength of Mother Earth and the female form.
I want to raise a strong empress, a gentle, graceful gazelle with the strength of a lioness. Like the queens before me I want my little queen to be/daughter to stand up proud and know that if a man is intimidated by her, he is exactly the type that doesn't deserve to be graced by her shadow let alone be consumed into her ever glowing light and spirit that can bring the king in him to life. I want the chain to break, I am rattling the cage. Can you feel my frustration with this generation? This is our time! Our time to demand change. Change for all that is pure and majestic. if not for the queens that raised us or the ones that stood strong and marched for us to claim our rightful throne. Let's do it for ourselves so that one day our kings and queens to come can be grateful for leaving them with clean air, green forests and knowledge of their inner light. Let us be that generation. Will you take my hand and take this march with me?