Book 249: Somaliland (English) – The Orchard of Lost Souls (Nadifa MOHAMED)

On either side of the trees are the stray dogs, thieves and promenading ghosts of Hargeisa. The swish of cars crossing the bridge and the susurrations of secret policemen come to her through the darkness. The barrel in which she sleeps is cold, too cold. The scraps of cut-off fabric that usually line the bottom are floating in kerosene-rippled water, the emeralds and sapphires of a peacock’s tail flashing on its moonlit surface. She shivered with goose-pimpled skin for as long as she could bear it and then sought out the drunks and their fire in a moment of reckless desperation; she wonders what they will do for her to her. She wants to know if hyenas can only be hyenas when confronted with a lamb the heat of the men’s fire blows over her, its crackling and its colours warming her. They have built a bombastic blaze, full of their alcohol; it lurches at the dark, quivering trees before stumbling and falling back into the barrel. she breathes in the smell of damp smoke, the taste of fresh ash. 

 

The Republic of Somaliland is a northern part of Somalia, bordered by Djibouti, Ethiopia and the rest of Somalia which has declared itself independent in 1991. It covers the former territory of British Somaliland (the rest of Somalia was colonised by Italy), but united with the latter when it became independent in 1960. It was unhappy living under war-torn and impoverished Somalia, and as with so many other places, former colonial power seems to trump ethnicity and language when deciding borders… In any case Somaliland has been comparatively a haven of peace and democracy, even if it is still (as far as I know) recognised by any other country.

Nadifa Mohamed is from this area (she now lives in London), and the novel is set mainly in its capital Hargeisa, although a long time before Somaliland claimed independence, and it’s set under the long dictatorship of Siad Barre (1969-91). He started a war with Ethiopia to try to conquer its part of the Ogaden Desert (inhabited by Somalis), which ended up disastrously for Somalia.

The story follows three female victims (and occasionally perpetrators) of the chaos of the incipient 1987-8 civil war and famine. Deqo is a child who has escaped from a refugee camp. Feisty Kawsar is an older widow who becomes trapped in her house after being injured in a police beating. Filsan is a 30-year-old soldier who has been moved here from Mogadishu to fight the rebellion. (It might seem that it was advanced for the army to have female soldiers, but she still suffers greatly at the hands of male chauvinists). We start at an ego-fest ‘celebration’ for the dictator, in which Deqo is arrested and beaten for her poor dancing, Kawsar is jailed for standing up for her, being beaten up by Filsan (rebounding from a violent incident on herself) who later becomes disillusioned with the regime. At the beginning and in the end, the three lives come together (though I thought the writing of the ending was a little weak and too coincidental, like one of those 19th century novels).

Overall, it was a good read, and an enlightenment on this brutal and mostly forgotten time, despite a few unlikely plot twists.

 

Mohamed, Nadifa (1981 – ), The Orchard of Lost Souls, London [etc.], Simon & Schuster, 2013, ISBN 978-1-47111-530-1

Book 81: Somalia (English) – Maps (Nuruddin FARAH)

Before midnight, the old man’s leaf fell gently from the tree on the moon. It was a most gentle death. Hush. And the soft falling of the withered leaf didn’t even tease the well of Karin’s emotions, nor did it puncture the lacrymatory pockets. She didn’t cry, didn’t announce the departure of the old man’s soul to anyone until the following morning. She stayed by him, keeping his death all to herself. She lay by him in reverent silence, he dead, she alive – but you couldn’t have told the difference, so quiet was she beside him.

 

This is the first novel in the Blood in the Sun trilogy.

It is basically an in-depth study of the evolving relationship between the Somali orphan Askar and Misra, an ethnic Ethiopian lady who comes to look after him. It takes place at the time of the largely forgotten Ogaden war (1977-8) between Somalia and Ethiopia. The Ogaden Desert is inhabited by Somalis but was (and is, after the Ethiopians reconquered it with the help of their then sponsor the USSR and its allies), occupied by Ethiopia. In what looks like a continuing theme for the world’s twilight nations, or regions, “it is easier ridding yourself of a colonialist from beyond the seas than it is to oust an African one.” (for ‘African’, insert ‘Asian’ or any of the other possibilities). However, I’m not convinced that Namibia should have been listed as an exception – by the time of the setting, the German colonialists were long gone, but the future Namibia was finding it very difficult to escape from its neighbour South Africa.

As is usual in war, Misra is accused of treason. Meanwhile, Askar’s relationship with her becomes both intimate and testy. He feels that he is faced with the impossible choice of having to betray either her or Somalia. Farah explores the psychology of this complicated link.

It took a long time for the significance of the title to be revealed, but maps become a symbol of the way that ‘truth’ is not one and unchangeable, just as the country’s borders are not immutable. It is not as easy to pin down as it should be. Going back to the map, the one hanging on your wall probably has something called ‘Somalia’ (and something called ‘Ethiopia’) separated by nice confident red lines. But one country blends into another, both in space (geographically and culturally) and time (historically). Since we started drawing neat lines across the landscape, it has never been the case that everyone belonging to a certain people will always find themselves on the ‘right’ side of the border. And as for Somalia itself – all nicely coloured yellow on my map – it currently doesn’t exist as a single entity. Somaliland (the part colonised by the British rather than the Italians) is de facto independent, as is Puntland, while violence-torn Somalia proper is in fact the most tenuous part of the land.

At the time I read it I was in the mood for something with a faster and more intricate plot. But it is a very good and thought-provoking novel.

 

FARRAH, Nuruddin (Nuuradiin Faarax) (1945 – ), Maps, New York, Arcade, 2016, ISBN 978-1-62872-585-8