Conquering the Odds: Journey of a Shepherd Girl
by Habibo Haji, RN and Joseph Culhane, BS, MA
I've written a book about my life with the encouragement of my good friend, Joseph. Together, we've worked on it for over a year. Finally, it's complete and ready for publication. We're searching for a publisher now, but here are some excerpts from:
Chapter Two The Village
There is one lane in and out of the village and one path from the village to the river to take when getting water or going swimming. Another well worn path leads to the open grasslands, millions of acres of it, where I and the other villagers would take our animals to graze and get water at the river. The grasslands are part of a vast, vast open land owned by no one except the country of Somalia but governed by the local clans and tribes. On this land we would take our animals to feed on the tall grass wandering as many as ten miles out in one day and then coming back before nightfall; believe it or not, children start doing this at about the age of five. In the dry periods which would occur twice each year, we had to take our animals out many, many miles and stay out for several months until the rains returned to the village, and we could once again graze the animals within walking distance. The age to do this is about eleven and almost always only teenage boys. I however, was the exception.
Chapter Three Grazing the Animals – Early Training
The jackals would come around a lot in groups of maybe six or seven. They’d be making a yipping sound¸ but were hard to see as they look like the grass being grayish brown. So they’d find a way to sneak up on you and hide behind trees then all of a sudden, when you least expect it, they’d rush out at the animals. The sheep would run like crazy in all different directions; they’re the worst to take care of as they have no sense of direction whatsoever. The jackals would chase them all over; they have this trick of knowing where to bite to bring the sheep down. I would run and yell at them, chasing them, and I’d chase them far enough away to make sure they didn’t get any of my animals.
One time, however, when I was about six years old and out on my own, I wasn’t able to chase them away, and they killed a baby goat and strangled a sheep. I was sitting far enough away and playing with other kids from a different village, and I noticed my goats were running off in opposite directions from me with several jackals running after them. There was a baby goat only a few months old, and I could see the jackals were going for it. I jumped up and ran as fast as I could, but the fox grabbed it, and the poor little goat was twirling in the fox’s mouth. I was running, running, yelling and chasing it as it was running with the goat in its mouth. I was screaming and yelling trying to make as much noise as possible, and the jackal let go, dropped the baby goat and ran away, but I was too late. It lay there in the grass, bleeding and having a hard time breathing. So, I sat by it and pet it trying to soothe it and calm it down.
Chapter Four A Day in the Village
One particular morning, I walked with my aunt down to the river to get water for the day. I was at the water’s edge scooping up the water with my jug when, all of a sudden, my aunt started screaming, “Habibo, Habibo, get out of there, get out of there.” I had no idea what she was talking about as I was so busy scooping up water not looking around me. She kept on yelling and running towards me, “There’s a crocodile, a crocodile, get out of there, hurry, get out of there.” I looked up and there, right in front of me, maybe four feet away, were the eyes of a crocodile riding along as if on top of the water coming straight towards me; it was coming fast with a wake of water behind it. I stood straight up with more adrenaline pumping through me than I think I’ve ever had before or ever will have again. I let go of the water jug and fell backwards with my feet sinking into the muddy edge of the river. I quickly used my hands to pull myself backwards. My aunt, by this time, was throwing things into the water at the crocodile and screaming. Crocodiles don’t like a lot of screaming and commotion. She made as much noise as she could, and she was good at it, because the crocodile turned and went back into the river, but not without giving its prey - me - one last look with those two big eyes as if saying, “Missed you this time, but be careful of the next.” That’s the day my eyes met those of a crocodile, and I hope it never happens again because those are some pretty fearsome eyes to look into.
Chapter Nine War
We started to hear reports that in Mogadishu some of the neighbor’s relatives died in a bombing, or someone’s whole family was executed, or their house was bombed and everyone blown up with it. Every day some new tragedy happened and people were killed. All the land that General Barre took over under the Soviet Union’s scientific socialism and distributed to those tribes that were close to him, was taken back by the original tribal members; the men, women and children living on the land were annihilated. The fierceness of tribalism returned to the country, and it became tribe against tribe, clan against clan, all over Somalia. I had heard that some women and children – boys and girls - of a certain tribe to the west of us were walking, no husbands with them, and they were all raped and killed.
Soon, before we knew it, our whole village was full of new comers from the cities. Some were relatives that we had never seen before; some were pure strangers fleeing for their lives across the country - all seeking safety. The sad part was that if the people were of a different parent tribe or sub-tribe than our village, then they had to keep on going as they weren’t welcome. I’m not sure where they went, probably Kenya.
We girls and women were very afraid, because at times the opposing tribes would enter the villages and kill and rape and steal; the females in any village were not safe, from little girls to older women, sometimes even boys. I knew some girls that were raped, and I heard it while it was happening – screaming, fighting, crying – it was a horrible sound filled with anguish. So, each night all of us females would gather up a few belongings and small blankets from our huts, and go to the woods to spend the night - hiding amongst the trees leaving our animals back at our huts inside their fences. Our half of the village would hide on the east side past the river, and the other half would hide on the west side. We’d sleep on the floor of the jungle with our blankets over us, all huddled together. Then, each morning, we’d return to the village and do our work taking care of the animals, cooking, and milking the cows and goats. We’d also take care of the wounded and dead soldiers and prepare for the next night in the woods. This is the first in my life that I saw death and terrible suffering. Each day as the men and boys would return to the village from fighting, we’d hear of who died or got hurt the night before. I knew many of them that were killed; it was a horrible time. One time, a missile went off right over my head, so close that I could feel the heat of it as it passed by my hair.
Chapter Eleven Dadaab
We arrived at Dadaab during the daytime. The camp was started in 1991 after General Barre was ousted from power, and everyone fled from Somalia. It has three main sites which were built to hold a total of 90,000 refugees, but by the time we got there in 1995, there were almost 150,000. Today, there are 460,000. I remember getting off the bus and looking out over the landscape; I could see thousands and thousands of people, tent after tent after tent all across the land which was flat and dusty, barren and wide open – nothing you could graze your animals on.
We got off the bus and stood in line with all the other people, and finally were able to check in at the reception center manned by people from the United Nations. They took our names down and gave us a large tarp to make a tent, some corn, oil, flour, several plastic jugs for us to fill with water at one of the wells along with a little cart with wheel, and a few mattresses. The camp was divided into many sections in alphabetical order, and within each letter of the alphabet there were many subsections like, A-1, A-2, A-3 and so on to A 16 or 17, then B-1, B-2, B-3 all the way through the alphabet. Each subsection had about ten families in it with their tents set up about fifty feet from each other. We were assigned to section F-4. Unfortunately, the United Nations, who was running Dadaab, did not understand Somalia tribalism, and they mixed everyone together from many different tribes making for a rather tense situation.
We took our tent and food, carried the little ones and somehow, with all that, found our site to set up house. The first day was busy, going outside the camp to find branches and limbs as the inner structure for our tent as well as for fire wood, going to find water, meeting the people around us as well as taking care of the kids. A large makeshift fence surrounded the whole camp to keep marauders, rapists and robbers out. The fence was only made of limbs and branches from the trees in the area, and with a little effort, could be gotten through. Our tent site was near the big fence, so I had to go separate some of the branches to get outside of it in order to find branches and firewood so we could cook our meals. That night, we all just feel asleep so early being so tired from traveling for several days, taking care of the little ones, getting into the camp and finding our way through it, not to mention two days at Utaango. Soon, though, we got used to the camp.
Imagine being surrounded by thousands of other Somali men, women and children all having escaped their homeland trying to survive out in the middle of a vast barren land. I felt very intimidated at first, never having been around so many people in such a large area. Having come from the village and spending most of my life out herding animals pretty much by myself, I was overwhelmed by all the people. Many were from the cities of Somalia, more educated than me, more sophisticated. I felt very “less than” around them, and having to go about our business in the camp, I was pretty insecure. I had very little self confidence and less self esteem, so it stretched me somewhat to have to interact with all the people. However, we had to survive, and I did what I had to do.
Chapter Two The Village
There is one lane in and out of the village and one path from the village to the river to take when getting water or going swimming. Another well worn path leads to the open grasslands, millions of acres of it, where I and the other villagers would take our animals to graze and get water at the river. The grasslands are part of a vast, vast open land owned by no one except the country of Somalia but governed by the local clans and tribes. On this land we would take our animals to feed on the tall grass wandering as many as ten miles out in one day and then coming back before nightfall; believe it or not, children start doing this at about the age of five. In the dry periods which would occur twice each year, we had to take our animals out many, many miles and stay out for several months until the rains returned to the village, and we could once again graze the animals within walking distance. The age to do this is about eleven and almost always only teenage boys. I however, was the exception.
Chapter Three Grazing the Animals – Early Training
The jackals would come around a lot in groups of maybe six or seven. They’d be making a yipping sound¸ but were hard to see as they look like the grass being grayish brown. So they’d find a way to sneak up on you and hide behind trees then all of a sudden, when you least expect it, they’d rush out at the animals. The sheep would run like crazy in all different directions; they’re the worst to take care of as they have no sense of direction whatsoever. The jackals would chase them all over; they have this trick of knowing where to bite to bring the sheep down. I would run and yell at them, chasing them, and I’d chase them far enough away to make sure they didn’t get any of my animals.
One time, however, when I was about six years old and out on my own, I wasn’t able to chase them away, and they killed a baby goat and strangled a sheep. I was sitting far enough away and playing with other kids from a different village, and I noticed my goats were running off in opposite directions from me with several jackals running after them. There was a baby goat only a few months old, and I could see the jackals were going for it. I jumped up and ran as fast as I could, but the fox grabbed it, and the poor little goat was twirling in the fox’s mouth. I was running, running, yelling and chasing it as it was running with the goat in its mouth. I was screaming and yelling trying to make as much noise as possible, and the jackal let go, dropped the baby goat and ran away, but I was too late. It lay there in the grass, bleeding and having a hard time breathing. So, I sat by it and pet it trying to soothe it and calm it down.
Chapter Four A Day in the Village
One particular morning, I walked with my aunt down to the river to get water for the day. I was at the water’s edge scooping up the water with my jug when, all of a sudden, my aunt started screaming, “Habibo, Habibo, get out of there, get out of there.” I had no idea what she was talking about as I was so busy scooping up water not looking around me. She kept on yelling and running towards me, “There’s a crocodile, a crocodile, get out of there, hurry, get out of there.” I looked up and there, right in front of me, maybe four feet away, were the eyes of a crocodile riding along as if on top of the water coming straight towards me; it was coming fast with a wake of water behind it. I stood straight up with more adrenaline pumping through me than I think I’ve ever had before or ever will have again. I let go of the water jug and fell backwards with my feet sinking into the muddy edge of the river. I quickly used my hands to pull myself backwards. My aunt, by this time, was throwing things into the water at the crocodile and screaming. Crocodiles don’t like a lot of screaming and commotion. She made as much noise as she could, and she was good at it, because the crocodile turned and went back into the river, but not without giving its prey - me - one last look with those two big eyes as if saying, “Missed you this time, but be careful of the next.” That’s the day my eyes met those of a crocodile, and I hope it never happens again because those are some pretty fearsome eyes to look into.
Chapter Nine War
We started to hear reports that in Mogadishu some of the neighbor’s relatives died in a bombing, or someone’s whole family was executed, or their house was bombed and everyone blown up with it. Every day some new tragedy happened and people were killed. All the land that General Barre took over under the Soviet Union’s scientific socialism and distributed to those tribes that were close to him, was taken back by the original tribal members; the men, women and children living on the land were annihilated. The fierceness of tribalism returned to the country, and it became tribe against tribe, clan against clan, all over Somalia. I had heard that some women and children – boys and girls - of a certain tribe to the west of us were walking, no husbands with them, and they were all raped and killed.
Soon, before we knew it, our whole village was full of new comers from the cities. Some were relatives that we had never seen before; some were pure strangers fleeing for their lives across the country - all seeking safety. The sad part was that if the people were of a different parent tribe or sub-tribe than our village, then they had to keep on going as they weren’t welcome. I’m not sure where they went, probably Kenya.
We girls and women were very afraid, because at times the opposing tribes would enter the villages and kill and rape and steal; the females in any village were not safe, from little girls to older women, sometimes even boys. I knew some girls that were raped, and I heard it while it was happening – screaming, fighting, crying – it was a horrible sound filled with anguish. So, each night all of us females would gather up a few belongings and small blankets from our huts, and go to the woods to spend the night - hiding amongst the trees leaving our animals back at our huts inside their fences. Our half of the village would hide on the east side past the river, and the other half would hide on the west side. We’d sleep on the floor of the jungle with our blankets over us, all huddled together. Then, each morning, we’d return to the village and do our work taking care of the animals, cooking, and milking the cows and goats. We’d also take care of the wounded and dead soldiers and prepare for the next night in the woods. This is the first in my life that I saw death and terrible suffering. Each day as the men and boys would return to the village from fighting, we’d hear of who died or got hurt the night before. I knew many of them that were killed; it was a horrible time. One time, a missile went off right over my head, so close that I could feel the heat of it as it passed by my hair.
Chapter Eleven Dadaab
We arrived at Dadaab during the daytime. The camp was started in 1991 after General Barre was ousted from power, and everyone fled from Somalia. It has three main sites which were built to hold a total of 90,000 refugees, but by the time we got there in 1995, there were almost 150,000. Today, there are 460,000. I remember getting off the bus and looking out over the landscape; I could see thousands and thousands of people, tent after tent after tent all across the land which was flat and dusty, barren and wide open – nothing you could graze your animals on.
We got off the bus and stood in line with all the other people, and finally were able to check in at the reception center manned by people from the United Nations. They took our names down and gave us a large tarp to make a tent, some corn, oil, flour, several plastic jugs for us to fill with water at one of the wells along with a little cart with wheel, and a few mattresses. The camp was divided into many sections in alphabetical order, and within each letter of the alphabet there were many subsections like, A-1, A-2, A-3 and so on to A 16 or 17, then B-1, B-2, B-3 all the way through the alphabet. Each subsection had about ten families in it with their tents set up about fifty feet from each other. We were assigned to section F-4. Unfortunately, the United Nations, who was running Dadaab, did not understand Somalia tribalism, and they mixed everyone together from many different tribes making for a rather tense situation.
We took our tent and food, carried the little ones and somehow, with all that, found our site to set up house. The first day was busy, going outside the camp to find branches and limbs as the inner structure for our tent as well as for fire wood, going to find water, meeting the people around us as well as taking care of the kids. A large makeshift fence surrounded the whole camp to keep marauders, rapists and robbers out. The fence was only made of limbs and branches from the trees in the area, and with a little effort, could be gotten through. Our tent site was near the big fence, so I had to go separate some of the branches to get outside of it in order to find branches and firewood so we could cook our meals. That night, we all just feel asleep so early being so tired from traveling for several days, taking care of the little ones, getting into the camp and finding our way through it, not to mention two days at Utaango. Soon, though, we got used to the camp.
Imagine being surrounded by thousands of other Somali men, women and children all having escaped their homeland trying to survive out in the middle of a vast barren land. I felt very intimidated at first, never having been around so many people in such a large area. Having come from the village and spending most of my life out herding animals pretty much by myself, I was overwhelmed by all the people. Many were from the cities of Somalia, more educated than me, more sophisticated. I felt very “less than” around them, and having to go about our business in the camp, I was pretty insecure. I had very little self confidence and less self esteem, so it stretched me somewhat to have to interact with all the people. However, we had to survive, and I did what I had to do.