It was with deep sadness that I have heard of the death of Ali Hanfi. Part of my sorrow was the thought that I might never return to Somaliland. I heard from friends who have visited Arabsiyo that Ali still remembered me and it has been 40 years since I lived there. Somehow, as long as Ali was alive I thought I would be able to go back. Time and trouble make this more and more unlikely as I get older and it is more difficult to travel and now that Ali is gone I fear it may never happen.Ali was my protector from the very first day I came to live in Arabsiyo. I was 22, I didn’t speak very much Somali and I was alone. No other Peace Corps volunteers came to live in Arabsiyo. Many people in town said they surprised that a young woman would live without the protection of her father and brothers in a far away country but Ali Hanfi did something about it. He decided I should be a Sa’Ad Musa and have the protection of his tribe. He announced one day that I was Sa’Ad Musa and I have been proud of this my whole life. Many of the other Peace Corps volunteers were jealous because they did not have a tribe. Since Ali had decided this, there was little discussion and people accepted it. Some afternoons after we taught at the school, Abdirahman Subti, one of the teachers, and I would walk back to town through the wadi. If a nomad came to state at me, Subti would tell them that I was Sa’Ad Musa and that I was actually his sister. “It was quite a surprise to my mother that her skin is white like that!” he would tell them. The nomads would point and stare even harder in disbelief at this strange brother and sister. Perhaps a djinn did this they would say shaking their heads.
Ali also took care of the food and other supplies that I needed. I would go into his shop at the edge of town and point to whatever I needed. A bottle of kerosene for my lamp, some soap to wash my clothes, a packet of tea, spices and sugar. Ali would write down what each item cost and keep the little papers in a sack. Every month or so, he would come to my house with one of his sons and they would add up all the amounts. I tried at first to add the long list of numbers myself- but I never came up with the same amount twice. I have never been very good a math. Eventually I paid Ali whatever he said I owed him. He was an honest man and I trusted whatever he said.
I had a machine that could make copies of papers for my students at the school. The machine used a special paper and spirits. Sometimes it was hard for me to find spirits because the machine used a whole bottle to make one set of copies and I would go from store to store to see who had any I could buy. One night Ali Hanfi and several of the village elders came to my house. They said that I seemed sad to be living so far from my family. I told them I was happy to be in Arabsiyo. Ali explained that they had noticed that I was buying all of the spirits and they thought I was drinking it. They had come to warn me that I would go blind from drinking pure alcohol spirits. I laughed very hard and invited them to the school to see how I could make copies for my students with the alcohol spirits.
Ali took care of me when I was a helpless stranger and I will always remember this honest, thoughtful and powerful man with gratitude and love. I will continue to hope that someday I will return to Arabisiyo, even though Ali Hanfi will be in paradise.
prepared by professor of Jeanne Dhaem
Source: Gabiley Net
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