continued…
written on February 15, 2016
from afar i saw my mother screaming
as she bounced out of her chair, making a dash into the water.
within a flash she was breathing heavy with rahma tightly in her arms.
my sisters and i stared at her frozen.
she of course cursed us and the lifeguards who came far too late.
rahma remained shaking with a face full of tears.
with a mother who could take the water by storm,
it was no surprise that in Somalia
bodies rich in melanin and water go hand in hand.
this weekend i had the opportunity to make memories with Somalia’s waters.
As my girls Sadia, Ayan & I just returned from visiting the historical city of Eyl.
if you search the Somali city on google it will be filled with results like:
pirates, piracy, and other narrow headliners.
inside of Eyl are the most breathtaking forms of beauty.
but none captured my soul like its waters did.
the girls & i planned to make it out to the shore right while the sun rose
the sand below, a powdered gold.
the clouds slowly began to make way for the sun.
its rays changed the sky into a thousand backdrops, all warm with color.
all along the shore lay boats. each painted with a name.
the waves rocked itself hard. but called toes forward along with the wind.
time vanished as the water stole my heart forever.
i am free.
this is what Somalia waters represents to me.
you won’t get that from the mass media.
where our waters are only represented
by voices like hollywood’s captain phillips.
who won’t tell you that before our Somali pirates came the british.
and other thieves who took things from our waters.
they raided our lands. pinned us against each other.
and sparked a war between ourselves.
2017 san diego, ca
leaving enormous amounts of people like my mom to flee.
ripping her away from her beloved waves.
america taught me that water and i were enemies.
that Somali’s only knew how to fight in water not make love to it.
2017 bosaso, somalia
that seafood was only an Asian thing.
im fortunate to have moments
where my mother is able to shatter those deeply rooted myths.
through the countless memories she would share.
where she had swam with my aunts
in the ocean and seas that border Somalia.
black people do swim.
i know because i witnessed one of the greatest sheroes
rescue her baby underwater.
2017 melbourne, aus
thick black hair reaching out from her head wrap.
unapologetic. moving like a swift and elegant mermaid.
straight from the #252.
mimi thy phoenix 