Bashir Goth

At the evening of the last day of Ramadan, people once again in the same moon-sighting euphoria that they had been at the beginning of Ramadan. People again gathered at the outskirts of the village to search for the new moon that signifies the end of the Ramadan month and the beginning of the month of Shawwal, the 10th month of the Islamic lunar calendar. As children, it was our second day of empowerment in a month. This was one of the rare occasions on which the adults depended on children for such an important issue. We competed with each other to spot the crescent. One could see an explosion of emotion and happiness once one child shouted, "Waa taa...there it is...” It was always good to spot the new moon on the first day and end Ramadan with 29 days. It was like the sweet feeling one got when suddenly locating something that he had the hope of finding but didn't know when. Sometimes when the new moon was not spotted in the area, people were in a limbo for the first few hours into the evening as they waited for an announcement from the national radio. If after a long wait the radio announced that the moon was not spotted anywhere in the whole country then people started their ordinary Ramadan programmes but with less fanfare. It was like reaching the denouement of an exciting play with the end already known.

Once Eid was declared, the people entered into such joyous mood and everywhere one heard the exchange of greetings in the traditional Arabic and Somalized versions of Eid Murabak, Ciid Wanaagsan. The market was once again bustling as men rushed to buy new clothes for their families and women made last hour purchases for the ingredients of the morning Canbaabur ( Anbaabur) or Eid pancake and the Eid feast. There was no one who was more excited than children, because the two Eids, the Fast breaking Eid known as Eid Al Fitr and the Prilgrimage season Eid known as Eid Al Adha, were almost the only two occasions that we as children used to get new clothes and new shoes, lots of jelly nougats (nacnac malab) and money to spend. We could hardly sleep in the night before Eid. Our intense excitement about the joy awaiting us on the Eid day had deprived us of any sleep. I remember my brothers and I keeping a watchful eye on the spot where the new clothes were stored. We couldn't wait to try and put on and stroll in the streets with pride and haughtiness for having such good new clothes. We would whisper to each other, giggle and stay nervous the whole night.

You see, for you my son, new clothes don't account as a present. For you new clothes are something you buy whenever you feel like. Buying new clothes is like buying potato chips, uneventful and unexciting. You live in the age of plenty and the age of technology. What you need as present are high tech electronic chips, games, cell phones and computers etc. But back in my country, we saw new clothes as the greatest gift. We had few toys in our village, no big selection. Some flutes we called Biibii, small harmonicas and tennis balls such as Abu Cudbi (made of cotton) or Abu Cinjir (made of rubber), which we used as football, and few toy cars. However, our biggest buy of the day was Fataatiir (marbles). We would have pocketfuls of fataatiir and would all day play a gambling game of marbles with each other in twos, threes and groups. At the end of the day one may have doubled or tripled his possessions or may have lost everything and returned home forlorn and empty-handed.

This innocent marble gambling definitely tops the Haram list of today's extremist groups, who view religion only as a leash to be tied to people's necks, while the one who holds the other end of the leash dictates their movements, their freedom and their thinking. Not even innocent children's games are safe from these people's onslaught on popular culture. Remember the banning of Pokemon in Saudi Arabia. Remember son, how you as a 10-year old boy got confused and angered because you couldn't see the logic why anyone would spend time and energy to ban an innocent children's game that would disappear by itself in time. Now you know why we have to fight this new breed because it has been imported and because it denies our kids to laugh and play.

Impatient for the night to end, we would wake up before sunrise; take rounds to wash ourselves by standing in a washbasin and pouring cold water from hand-held bucket or kettle over our heads. As water was scarce and had to be greatly economised, we had learned early in life the most economical way to take bath. You had to use only half a kettle of water to wet your body, and then you soap yourself and then wash off the soap with the other half of the kettle or to the maximum with a full kettle. Once finished, you stepped out of the washbasin and you had to get rid of the used water by pouring it on the grass growing at the outside hedge of our house.

With clean bodies and oiled and combed hair, we used to put on the new clothes and new shoes. My father then used to put some drops of French perfumes, usually brought from Djibouti, to which we used to say "Allahuma Salli Wa Sallim Wa Baarak Caleih"(May Allah's blessings and peace be upon him). You know son, we believed as children that perfumes were made of the Prophet Mohammed's sweat, it was therefore recommended to remember him whenever one smelled a perfume. With the new clothes and the few changes our parents gave us as Xaqal Ciid (Eid money), we were the kings of the world. We would take some sips of tea as our father told us that we should not go to the Eid prayers without putting something in our stomachs. It was a Sunnah, prophet's way, he told us to eat something even few dates before one went to Eid prayers, particularly the Eid Al Fitr.

The night before the Eid and the early morning of Eid before the start of prayers, people used to be frantic about paying the fitri alms. It is mandatory in Islam that the head of every household should pay a charity called Zakatul Fitr (Fast breaking alms) on every member of his family to needy people. It is like head tax paid to the poor at the end of Ramadan. The rule is to pay the Fitr anytime from the last ten days of Ramdan up Eid day prior to prayers. The logic was to share the happiness of the Eid with the poor.

The Eid prayer in our village was held at the School football pitch. People poured in to the place from all corners, from the village, from the countryside and from even far places, while the traditional chanting of Allahu Akbar, Laa Illaha Illa Laah, Wa Lilaahil Hamd, (God is great and there is no god but Allah) filled the air. Then people would offer Eid Prayers often led by your grandfather's friend while your grandfather would later make the sermon, highlighting the importance of continuing with the good deed and charitable spirit of Ramdan to the rest of the months. One of my most memorable Eid prayers was the day when during the prayers when people kneeled down on the ground, we were shocked by the loud shrieking of a man in the assembly. All people around the man jumped and went to his rescue. I could see him from where I was. He was a tall and hefty cleric who was famous in the village for his amicable personality and his meat business. He was stung by a scorpion while prostrating and couldn't stand the pain. As the scorpions in the area were known to be poisonous, many of the people nearby him quit the prayers and started stuffing tobacco leaves into his mouth. The general belief was that tobacco leaves made the victim of snake or scorpion bite vomit and the tobacco juice also neutralized the poison in the blood. It often worked and it also worked in his case.