It was during this short stay that we met up with Abu Cabdallaah as-Sudaani (Ciise Cusman Ciise), and a few other Muhaajirs. Cabdul Qaadir Komandos also joined our group at this stage. Abu Cabdallaah had almost died of Malaria and he wouldn’t take on a leadership position for quite a while. He did, however, come with news that our previous Amiir had been martyred in a very strange incident; leaving him the natural successor. Of course I don’t blame Abu Cabdallaah for his death. But the story along with the picture on his camera phone showing that the bullet was aimed precisely for Abu Talxah’s heart makes me want to lay the blame on someone other than the Kuffaar.
The reason for this is the fact that there were multiple groups of Muhaajiriin and leaders in the area of Lekta during the time of Abu Talxah’s death and none of them were attacked by the Ethiopians until quite a while after the fateful shots rang out. In addition to that tid bit it was also said that he was called to have a meeting with some of the other leaders and he went accompanied by one of his lieutenants (while both of them were only armed with pistols). Minutes later shots could be heard and his lieutenant returned unscratched. He allegedly fought off the Ethiopians single handedly with his pistol while Abu Talxah, on the other hand, was shot square in the heart.
That lieutenant was later martyred trying to defend the wives of the Muhaajiriin (Abu Talxah’s included) on the Kenyan border. Once again, he was trying to fend off the Kenyan soldiers with only his pistol. That time, however, he was hit and martyred. No one till this day really knows the true story about his death, but there were definitely plausible motives amongst some of the other groups who didn’t take kindly to Abu Talxah’s insistence upon starting a new group in Kismaayu under the spiritual “leadership” of Xasan Turky.
It turns out that another truck full of Mooryaan came up to us and they shot out our radiator. In response, the brother in the passenger side of our truck shot out the brains of their driver! That was what led the Mooryaan to flee. Instead of chasing them, the brothers started trying to figure out which truck to board now that ours was in need of a radiator.
But before we actually set off we were awakening one night before dawn by the sounds of a million bullets trying to leave the barrel of one gun in about half a second, at regular pulses for a good minute or so. Later on we realized that we were close to Kolbiyo where Axmad Madobe and his crew were being blitzed from the sky. I heard that Abu Muxammad’s boy, Muxammad, was there and that only he (by virtue of running into the forest) and Axmad Madobe survived. In hindsight, it would have been better for Axmad Madobe to have died instead of coming back just to join the Kenyans in attacking Somaalia.
This water source as it turned out happened to be one used frequently by the Kenyan army.
There was also the time in which we sent a man off to come back with news and it seems that instead of bringing us the money and provisions he only brought us a small portion and kept the rest for himself.
It was just as well anyway because the sun in Somaalia happens to be a few thousand light years closer to the earth’s surface than any other country. Any attempt to leave the little cover and shade the tiny trees can afford leads to an immediate heat stroke.
By this time everyone was complaining of strange slime in their stool and I don’t believe anyone was anywhere close to ‘regular.’ The trouble with using the bathroom was ten fold. There was the problem of finding a plastic bottle that was not currently in use at the moment, then there was the problem of lugging your hundred pound gun around while trying to fill that bottle up without falling in or getting your gun unnecessarily wet. We must remember now that the Bedouins and planes are still marauding about. After these tasks are completed it becomes necessary to find a place that is not inhabited by human or animal, that is not currently being used as a bathroom, that can not be stumbled upon by anyone while you’re in your comfort zone, and finally a place that is not too far to cause yourself to become lost or the unknown victim of some tragedy that people never came to know of. If you finally reach that place without loosing an eye from the thorns you may then use the bathroom while clutching your gun in the event that a wild animal or enemy approaches. After all is well and done it is finally time to retrace your steps and eventually return to your place of languishing under the trees until the next round.
that place of ours was cleared out once Jacfar Dheere breathed his last. He had been hanging in despite all odds for a long time but each day he had become weaker and weaker. He had to be carried to the bathroom, he had to be forced to eat or drink, which he normally vomited up, and he was in a generally wretched situation.
One Somaali brother, who looked as though he was new to the matter of practicing his religion, decided to take my seat by force. When I objected, along with a few other brothers, he pretended not to hear anything. Finally, I got off the truck and asked for my bag. Everyone refused to sit up to give me my bag because they too feared losing their positions. Eventually Axmad Madobe climbed out of the truck and asked me nicely to get back on the truck. I explained to him the situation but he just coaxed me into leaving the whole matter.