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A s a child, whenever I was late for school, I walked through the shortcuts of downtown Keren. Every business I passed by burned frankincense and had a radio on. The first part of the walk took me through a row of small one-room offices where businesswomen run their affairs. For reasons I didnt know then, these women were considered bad. Their office doors were partly covered by worn out, fading and greasy curtains. You could peek inside the depressingly dim and grim offices and see a bed, a side-table, an old stool, a radio and a large aluminum bowl a sort of a manual bathtub. On the walls you could see bargain tapestry depicting saints; tiny frames of single black and white pictures; and a mirror dangling on a thread from a huge nail on the wall. The successful businesswomen displayed a lot of jewelry- golden bracelets, rings and necklaces. At the doorsteps of every room, I mean office, there was a Mobokkorria, a clay burner, fuming with third-grade frankincense, and a transistor radio blasting in the highest possible volume. The cheap frankincense, sprinkled with Lehteet1 and Kerbe2, permeates a disgustingly stinky odor. For obvious reasons, the Ethiopian soldiers in town had the odor of that alley. I hated that smell so much that I never bothered to learn what the English words for Lehteet and Kerbe were - if I did learn that in my chemistry class, it must be the only thing I forgot. The businesswomen burned frankincense to attract customers as per the advice of their voodoo marketing consultants I still do not understand how a blindingly thick and cheap incense, that felt more like fumigation than an air-freshener would attract customers! But apparently it did, and now, the PFDJ has perfected every tool of immoral and unjust scam. Ironically, one of the main goals of the Eritrean revolution was to clean such alleys and get rid of dhur bahltat, the primitive traditions that exploited women; instead, the PFDJ has legitimized the industry and is collecting taxes- I wonder how they audit the revenues of that trade and if they are paid in cash or in kind! The second part of the journey took me through rows of grocery, vegetable and garment shops. Share Kheyateen (Tailors alley) and Share Semkerriya (the alley of tin Fabricators) were the most colorful and vibrant alleys populated by honest, hardworking patriotic people. The two alleys burned softer and pleasant second-grade frankincense mixed with some sandalwood, the type of aroma you sometimes sense in Churches and Mosques. The last part of my journey was as uninteresting as the PFDJs chronicle of extortion and warmongering. It took me through streets of walled houses and a police station followed by an empty field before I reached to school just in time for the morning bell. Early mornings were primetime for four popular radio stations: the BBC Arabic Service and its famous Big Ben bangs, the Umdurman Radio and its melancholic Sudanese songs, Radio Ethiopia and its gymnasium program, dubdub belu, dubdub belu (I am not sure if anyone jumped to the stupid command) and often, very sad Somali music that shrieked in the air. The alleys were covered in a mist of incense smoke and wrapped in a strange mixture of music and talk coming out of the tens of radios, the conversation of the people, noises from the few pack animals and shopkeepers muttering Ya Fattah Ya Aleem3, a casual prayer for a bountiful day. One learns to sift through the decibels, filter out unwanted noise, and listen to specific preferences only. On the tailors alley you would follow the BBC news while still walking because, as if on a competition, every shop had the radio dial on the BBC. You could listen to the first part of the news in the beginning of the block, keep listening while you walked, and finish the news by the time you reached the end of the block: a non-stop supply of free radio- all tuned to one station. Occasionally when Eritrea was mentioned in the news, everyone shouted in unison: raise the volume, a reflex request that gave the impression that a louder mentioning of Eritrea in the news would liberate the country- and that was a moral defiance of sorts. The tin fabricators, whose honorary president was the late Am Hedug, manufactured tin incense burners; but the demand in the local stock market was always for the popular clay Mobokkoria. They made utensils, kettles, cups, funnels and a host of other tin utensils. You could hear the click-click of delicate hammers hitting the thin metal against the backdrop of one radio station or another. It was almost a morning ritual where the thick smoke from the clay burners, the famous Mobokkorria, infused the morning air before floating to the sky. Meet Mokria Mokria4 is an Amharic proper name meaning cause of pride someone must have been proud of Mokria! In our case, it is similar to the pride some feel when their leader commits scandals and they helplessly try to justify it and, in the process, make fools of themselves. The Mokria of the old days was a brutal, sadistic Ethiopian Tor Serawit sergeant in charge of one of the night squads that humiliated Kerenites. We gave Mokria another name, we called him Mobokkorria. Once, minutes after the curfew time at six in the evening, I was among a group of young kids he caught while we hurryied to get home. It seemed he was in a good mood and decided not to jail us for the night as he would usually do. Instead, he improvised a punishment that turned out to be an entertainment for him and his squad: he ordered us to climb a big tree, reach a certain branch and come down three times; he ordered us to sing while we climbed the tree: Abiet, Addis Ababa, Abiet Haile Sellassie- a number popular with drunk Tor Serawit soldiers. Kidane, a sympathizing Commandis in the squad, whose anger over the junior tyrants orders I sensed in his bloodshot eyes, advised us whisperingly, to obey Mokrias orders and avoid his wrath. We climbed the tree falling, shaking and bruising ourselves. He kept ordering us to sing louder while he laughed and made fun of us. That was Mokria. If a boy is soft and sissy, usually Eritreans would call him Mobokkorria- a disgracing insult in a macho society. And if someone boasted and lied too much, he would be referred to as Bokhokh Mobokkoria! a fitting description for our current tyrant and his followers, huh! The Mokria of the early seventies is not around anymore; but we have hundreds of his look-alikes claiming to be defenders of the nation. They have been terrorizing the people all day, every day, for the last fifteen years. At least Mokria reigned the streets only from sunset to sunrise enforcing the notorious coprifuoco5, the Curfew. But now we have a senior Mokria who considers Eritreans his toys and Eritrea his playground; and many Mobokkorias assist and embolden him in his cruel game. If Eritreans were fed up with the old Mokria and resisted him, wouldnt it be natural to resist and fight back against the current, homegrown Mokria and Mobokkorias who are terrorizing them? We make a big mistake when we refer to the anti-justice lots as members of PFDJ. They are not members of anything. Membership requires rights, free thought and free decision- they dont have any of that. Therefore, it is more fitting to refer to them as blind, unquestioning followers; they should be referd to as Mobokkoria. As a group, they should be identified as Mobokkorrias, followers of Mokria. And the famous Mobokkoria is an integral part of any swindle job: There was hardly a Qletuni event where cheap grade-three incense was not burning. How do I know about Frankincense and its grades and qualities? Because I know of Sheriket Luban13. Long before the PFDJ monopolies took over, there was a successful share company that dealt in the processing and trading of frankincense which employed hundreds of people: Sheriket Luban, the Frankincense company which was owned and run by the God fearing notable businessmen of Keren. But Sheriket Luban is a subject of a case study that requires a favorable time. And the third grade frankincense burned at the Qletuni6 party as well. Qletuni and Zrrefa There are two intriguing traditions in parts of our culture. Qletuni and Zrrefa7. Though Zrrefa is not tolerated by the society anymore; the howling of young girls to Sawa is just that. Zrrefa was (and is) a straightforward social phenomenon: you spot a beautiful young girl, you kidnap her, and you declare her your bride. Families would helplessly lament: Tezzerifa endya! End of story. Qletuni is different. In times of hardships, members of the society organized Qletuni parties as a means of raising funds. It was a sort of a cooperative drive that relied on the financial resources of the community to solve its own problems. Thus, in its pure cultural form, Qletuni was charitable. However, when I was growing up, it has lost its spirit and has become a sort of a fraud. For the most part, I have seen such parties thrown out only by the bad women who burned cheap incense. Usually, one of those women would claim that she lost her jewelry, her only capital in this world, or similar claims of a sad incident that was certain to gain more sympathy. Then she throws out a drinking party and invites people to drink and pay premium prices so that she can collect money to replace her lost Jewelry or something of that nature. It is a sort of a party where people go voluntarily to be swindled. The host, the con-artist, would frequently peep out from the noisy venue to the street to spot anyone who can be persuaded to join the party- more guests meant more funds. At the end of the day, the tipsy invitees would walk zigzagging to their homes and the host closes the doors to check the status of the fund, the SPOILS! That kind of fraud was widespread and it was another Dhur Bahli, a primitive tradition, the Eritrean revolution was supposed to eradicate. But since the PFDJ is not interested in the pure form of Qletuni, it has perfected the ugly face of the Dhur Bahli into a lucrative fraud business. That is why we observe the PFDJ, going about its extortion activities in the Diaspora unabated. There are striking similarities between the parties that the PFDJ holds in different parts of the world and the Qletuna parties that I witnessed as a child. In both parties, the invitees drink wildly, become tipsy and walk home zigzagging after giving away their their money. The PFDJ has adapted all the Dhur Bahltatat and perfected it as a tool of strengthening its grip on power and expanding its monopoly on all aspect of life in Eritrea and beyond. It burns cheap frankincense in every city with potential customers; and the Mobbokorrias do come attracted by the cheap frankincense, Kerbe and Lhteet they are infatuated by Mokrias Etan8. Thank you for your comments:
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Note: I have received feedback from readers who repeatedly suggested that the local Eritrean words and terms might not be familiar to many. I heed that advice and yield to my readers feedback. Here below I have included explanations for the terms used. Corrections are welcome.
1. Lehteet: Lehteet is a bitter crystal-like smoky-white substance. It is used as a medicine for several infections, including throat and other feminine infections. Writing this edition of Negarit, I was curious to find out the English words for Lehteet and Kerbe. I asked many PHDs, chemists, geologists and credible references. The majority of the more than twenty people I asked didnt know what the words meant in Tigrgna let alone in English. A resourceful friend researched and found out the meaning of Kerbe from the bible- see below. I have yet to find out what Lehteet is. 2. Kerbe: Commiphora Erythraea commonly known as Myrrh. Some think Myrrh is a corruption of the Arabic word for mur, bitter. Myrrh is extracted from a plant; it is a resin of oily substance with healing characteristics. Its also known as East Indian Myrrh believed to have originally grown in Ethiopia, Eastern Somalia and Gizan in Saudi Arabia. Lets make it easy and say it originated in Eritrea. The three wise men brought a gift myrrh to infant Jesus, Kerbe in the Tigrgna Bible. they presented unto him gifts; gold and frankincense, and myrrh Matt 2:11. Kerbe is sprinkled on a burning frankincense and is commonly ordered by the spirits in people undergoing a Zar seizure. It is also believed to lend power to those who burn it, to influence others as mentioned in the story of the businesswomen above. Its offending smell is also believed to ward off evil spirits. Thus, its preferred by exorcists in treating victims possessed by spirits. 3. Ya Fattah Ya Aleem, Ya Razak Ya Kerim: a traditional prayer generally uttered when opening the doors of a business for the day. Roughly translated it means Oh God, The Enabler, The All- Knowing, The Bounty Giver and The Generous. 4. Mokria: this was a cruel sergeant in the Ethiopian occupation army, the Tor Serawit (literally, fighting army). Many Kerenites have painful memories of his (and many of his colleagues in the service of the occupation) humiliations. 5. Coprifuoco: many parts of Eritrea lived under a curfew since the sixties. Curfew was first imposed in keren in 1967 and was enforced until the early seventies (and several periods after that). Residents risked being shot at and killed in they wondered out from indoors between sunset and sunrise - the orders to the squads were shoot at anything moving and many were killed. 6. Qletuni: A social event for fundraising held by a person in hardship seeking financial assistance from the community. 7. Zereffa: A traditional kidnapping of girls to be brides; no tolerated by society anymore. 8. Etan: Tigrgna for fragrance mainly Frankincense. Also known as Bkhoor in many parts of Eritrea when used for burning. The first grade is also known as Luban and is used as a chewing gum. Frankincense is burned during coffee ceremonies, and commonly used as an air freshener, as scent in weddings, and in funerals as a fragrance for the dead bodies before burial, etc.
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