Aden Hassan
______________

Sareedo is the name of this poetic piece. Sareedo, is a noun so appealing in its pristine beauty, so simple in its originality. One might be tempted to ask: what is in a name? For Sareedo, there is a lot in it, and some more. This is a piece of poetry – of the Saar genre made by Abdirashid Omar, alias Ina Cawsgurow. Sareedo’s novelty is not just in its title; it is in the purpose. It is an educational piece; a poet’s tool to conduct civic education for his people. The poem was primarily crafted for the purpose of educating the Kenyan-Somali population and intended to not only encourage the masses to turn up for the vote but also inspire them in the choices they make the ballot day. Abdirashid’s poetry thrives on its socio-cultural utility and Sareedo is only the most recent in a commendable conveyor belt of educational poems like Fiyoowdhowr caafimaad, Fatwo and Yaab.

The poem starts with a series of stanzas that identify the desirable traits people should look for in those that seek to be entrusted with leadership positions. The fact that the Saar plunges right into these leadership traits almost instantly-without the usual ‘foreplay’ common in Somali poetry- signifies two things: One, the poet’s bold willingness to depart from the established highways and blaze new pathways to blast the message home with minimal ‘fuss’. But even more importantly, this crystallizes the poignancy of Sareedo’s message, and the urgency needed to deposit it as swiftly as possible. The primary message of the piece is that success and prosperity are attained only through reliance on real, rooted, functional knowledge-with science and technology getting a deserved mention -knowledge acquired through patient struggle, hard work and driving ambition.

Lesson is, success comes through toiling and there is no joyride in the voyage to seek it. Immediately following this rapid delivery of the core of the piece message is a caveat: Sareedo was not crafted for the slumbering lowbrows who do not appreciate the gemstones of poetry; rather, it is meant for those who are willing to engage with it and absorb its sublime message. This is a bold warning, because the truth is, the vast majority of contemporary youth are averse to poetry and are unwilling to engage their brains on anything not prose. But that is not the intention here. The warning embodies a not-so-subtle castigation of the youth for their indifference to poetry, that truly original artistic heritage of the Somali nation. But there is something else in the caveat: a crafty stylistic devise to commandeer attention! Proclaim something is not for pedestrians, and get all of them lending eyes and ears, and, hopefully, brains!

Now that all, especially the indifferent pedestrians, have been roped in, the full delivery starts with a background construct describing the immensity of the forthcoming electioneering period. It is a new era, and the old ways of doing things will not work. Our political body is at a crossroads-it is a transitional moment in the nation’s future. The Somali word used for ‘transition’ is ‘Kalaguur’, which is actually much more profound than the English replacement. While it has transitory denotations, it also carries the ideas of separation; of take-off. The country is ready for a flight, and if you stick to your old ways, you will be left behind, just as you were left behind at independence. It is a transitory period to separate wheat from chaff, the real from the refuse. You must change, you must embrace the moment and learn from your past; a past of lethargy; of indifference, of tribalism and mildewed socio-political construction. It is a call to leave behind a past of politicized clan identities, which the poet describes as ‘Suyac’. Suyac is not only sordid; the imagery is a lot more uncomfortable. It is a mental picture of a stuffy, moldy and depressing cesspit that should disgust everyone, and eyesore that ought to be discarded quickly and decisively. It is a new dawn, folks, embrace it and ditch that skunk. That is the message.

This is followed by a call to sieve the seekers of public office-see the use of ‘shaah-miir’-to strain the candidates and identify those in whom the universally accepted leadership attributes abound. The leadership attributes are described in a few ornately crafted stanzas. Integrity, credibility, and functional capacity as well as the ability to navigate and deliver through the obstacles and challenges are highlighted as core to the essence of effective leadership. Equally important are respect for self and others and trust in the goodness of people and appreciation of their potential. An effective leader ought to be one with the capacity to be responsive to the people’s needs and opinions. He/she should be tolerant and accommodate diversity of opinions and people – a trait the poet brands ‘wadayaalnimo’, which at its deepest reaches beyond mere tolerance. Wadayaalnimo entails leadership that not only tolerates but also inculcates and safeguards the spirit of live-and-let-live.

A true leader is one that possesses the confidence and courage and goodwill to confront the problems facing the people and solve them through imagination, finesse and creativity. A leader is one with a broad mind; the capacity to think outside the proverbial box. A genuine leader is proactive and not merely reactive, and this should be a yardstick to measure who will make a good leader and who will not. Just as the piece started, so does it seem to conclude with a hard-hitting message on the intellectual capability of those seeking elective positions. The poet declares his vote, and with it his/her voice, will go to one who reflects genuine and remarkable academic achievements; one who espouses credible development agenda; who is not a blunt knife-for the blunt knife is still a knife, just as a schooled fool is still a fool. But education, as the poet is fond of saying, is not the same as schooling, and he describes the kind of academic credentials he is not looking for. I have no time, he says, for shallow minds, whose knowledge goes not deeper than the throats. Those that have been mentally colonized, that equate wisdom with classy suits and ties (the tie here is described in not-so-charitable terms-“calal qoorta suran”).

Those that confuse the ability to speak foreign languages with intellect. Those whose only claim to education is based on glossy testimonials and certificates, who otherwise can’t tell ‘oil from fat’ (whose schooling has not resulted in any useful practical expertise). A blight they have been and a source of African misery, these have-been-to-school charlatans! And here lies Sareedo’s visceral message: a juxtaposition of practical, usefully schooled intellect and the rumor-of-education reflected by the paper-brandishing elitists whose only proof of intellect is the foreign tongue, the glossy papers and the glitzy apparel. The poet dedicates several juicy lines for the latter group, that he describes as the plague of the African people and the reason for the black folk’s compounded misery. They are people who can only bribe their way into an elective position, or appeal to kinship and clan. A truly bitter irony is depicted by the fact that these self-seekers use the same wealth they plunder from the people to bribe them. This earful is a wake-up call for the Somali youth: you have not played your part of the bargain, Sareedo tells you. You have not paid back to your society, not a fraction of what you ought to. You had the luxury of schooling, but your education is not doing what it should. You don suits and ties and speak in tongues, but that’s all. You are as tribal-minded as the illiterates you should be enlightening. Your scope of vision should be beyond the squalor of clan politics, but you partake of it. You perpetuate it. Your schooling has not produced solutions to your people’s problems; it has only compounded them.

It is time for change, and you need to arise from this slumber. As Sareedo tapers off to its final lines, the poet concludes with a call to the people to turn up for the vote on ballot day. Wake up early, trek to the centers and queue to cast your vote, and remind yourself of the attributes you seek in those who want your vote and, finally, seek Allah’s help-for this is a sacred duty.

Aden Hassan

Email:asturre@fastmail.fm