In Eritrea, the umbilical cord is buried shortly after the mother has a baby. Can where the umbilical is buried tell us about the fate of the children? There is a legend I am about to tell you and those of you who shout superstition the moment you hear a legend should stop reading right here. It goes like this: if the umbilical cord of a person who now lives outside his country was buried inside the house where he was born (under the bed in the kitchen for example) then that person - however long it takes - would ultimately return to his birthplace. However, if the persons umbilical cord was buried outside the house, say in the compound, Cancello or Zeriba, that person is unlikely to return back.
My mother told me that story and she heard it from her friend.
If we subscribe to that legend, then town people (Asmarinos for example) are not likely to return because most of their houses have brick or cement tile floors and their umbilical cord couldnt have been buried inside the house; it is more likely buried in the compound. I am sorry to say it, but according to The Legend, they are doomed to remain outside Eritrea; they are the real Diaspora. If you are an Asmarino and you wish to return to your birthplace, call your parents or relatives and ask them to dig out your umbilical cords from where it was buried and rebury it inside a house- even if they have to break a few tiles? Kalay Qerbri is a good idea here, and I think it is worth the effort. On the other hand, country-people, Hagereseb, and those who came from modest families in modest towns most likely buried the umbilical cord of their babies under the bed in their kitchen or one-room houses and abodes. They didnt have to worry about cement or brick floors; they would dig a shallow hole and that is the end of it. Again, according to the legend, they are more likely to return to their birthplace.
More relevant to this article, most Kerenites will return to their birthplace.
I asked my mother where my umbilical cord was buried. I discovered it was buried inside the kitchen that was demolished and relocated to another corner when I was a child. When my umbilical cord was buried, the ground where it was buried was inside a room but later, it became part of the compound. And since I am not accepting this middle of the road verdict, I established my own argument: when the old kitchen was demolished, my umbilical cord was surely decomposed inside the ground of a room and when that location became part of the compound there was no umbilical cord anywhere there. I am with the group who will return to Keren soon. And we have all
Witnessed Many Ripples
A ripple is a beautiful thing. Throw a pebble on a quite surface of a body of water and it starts a ripple that draws circles all over. I have seen ripples created in my lifetime and heard of other ripples created before my birth. Let me focus now on Kerens ripples.
The generation of the forties threw a stone and started a ripple that met with other smaller ripples. Had some people not broken the ripple, we wouldnt have been swallowed by Haile Sellasie and oppressed on our own country. Household names like Ibrahim Sultan and Adem Idris Nur, Adem Melekin and a few others shine above all in creating that ripple. They were brave people who tried the peaceful struggle and finally established that peace is a language that oppressors least understand. And many more threw pebbles and continued creating ripples. That was the first ripple.
Another generation followed. It threw its own pebbles, created ripples that met the ripple started by patriots like Mohammed Said Naud, Saleh Eyay and others. It ignited the spirit of defiance and the resistance to oppression. It pursued the classical popular mobilization for the inevitable showdown. Again it reestablished that peaceful and legal pursuit of rights is the language oppressors despise most. That was the second ripple.
Yet still, another ripple was created in my proud Keren and met the ripple created by Awate on Mount Adal. This was the ripple that has shaped our psyche to defy oppression and paved the way for pride, dignity and heroic sacrifices. That was the third ripple.
Each ripple had its heroes.
The second ripple had men of iron-will, clear conscience and noble patriotism that surpasses all others. We remember men like Adem Gduuf, Suleiman Merrir, Saad Saleh, Adem Mussa, Adem Akte, Said Abdelrehim, Mahmmed Ali Nor, Abubeker Abdulrahim. Mahmoud Amman Taha, Marouf Shekh Adem, Suleiman Merrir, Abdelkerim Said Qassim, Teluq, and many others listed by the renowned patriot Mohammed Said Naud, the founder of the Eritrean Liberation Movement (known as Mahber Shwatte or Haraka).
The third ripple had also phenomenal heroes. Men who gave their lives from the sixties to the eighties. We remember Chekini, Jemjam, Saleh Mohammed Abdelkadir, Ismael Gnbar, Debrom Teluq, Said Saleh, and hundreds more.
The fourth ripple, which is not yet created, is about to start. Many believe the current generation has been emasculated by the PFDJ. Regardless of that claim, I still believe it hasnt forgotten that a pebble thrown into a body of water causes a ripple. I am still talking of the Eritrean ripples in relation to Keren. Those of you who hail from other parts of Eritrea can create lists from the places of your birthplace. I will try to find out what happened to my Keren? What befell my Keren to be so quite? What happened to my brave town? Needless to say, I have solace in knowing that the rage has reached a boiling point and is pushing the lid.
A few weeks ago, a man I consider my elder brother, a man I respect very much, sent me an old school picture from 1964. I can barely remember a third of the people in the picture because they were not my peers but my elder brothers. From the picture, I identified Saleh Kekia (G15 prisoner), Said Saleh (martyred) AbdulAziz Atta (martyred), Tahir Jibril, a veteran of the ELF and many more. There are 46 students in the picture. Uztaz Shifa Nuru and Ustaz Mahmoud Adem Assenai are sitting on both sides of Ustaz Abu Hashim the headmaster. I invite those who are in the picture to identify the people and send me their names and I will be grateful.
The students in the picture, those who survived the early period of the armed struggle are now in their mid-fifties. I can attest that the overwhelming majority of those students were raised up in an atmosphere of a burning patriotism and were activists before they finished elementary school. Consider the fact that Said Saleh joined the ELF just three years after the picture was taken- he must have been 16 when he joined the armed struggle.
Many of those you see in the picture started secret cells to help the ELF when they were still in their early teens. They collected funds for the ELF, money in the form of monthly contributions from which they bought uniforms, medicines and gathered intelligence. That was very common in Keren; and almost every parent and child did it; each with his peers. I was introduced by a relative to the dedicated patriot Mohammed Mranet from Betjuk who recruited me in a cell when I was just 13. My secret number in the cell was 471: my sixth-grade examination number. I dont even know whatever happened to Mranet after he was snatched by the Higdefites and thrown in jail years ago. That was my Keren. The Keren of defiance. The Keren of dignity and pride. I am still wondering whatever happened to my Keren? My Keren that started.
The First Intifada Of The World
I have yet to hear of a story as great as a story of a kid who inspired so many kids in Keren. Last I heard, the kid, now a man, lives in Saudi Arabia. This kid used to go to the town center just to throw stones at armed Tor Serawit. Barely 13, with tons of guts from his childhood, Wed-Emran as he was affectionately known, had the courage of a lion. He would carry rocks, spot a soldier and hurl his stones at him. He wouldnt even run away to save his life. The soldiers would just stare at him in terror. They wouldnt understand how he would be that courageous. Suspecting someone to be behind him, they would run away. People looked at this kid in astonishment not sure if he was insane or a fool. But that was his mission: when other kids went to play football, he would head to the town center to pester enemy soldiers and stand in front of them in a defiance even an adult would not dare consider let alone a kid. He is the first person in the world who started throwing rocks at armed people. He started the Intifada before the Palestinians perfected it. His confrontation was a local embodiment of the legendary duel between Goliath and David.
Such were the streets of Keren when I was growing up. Now I wonder: Did wed-Emran leave some of his guts on the streets of Keren for someone to inherit. Did the cats eat the guts he left behind? What happened to the town that always smelled of gunpowder and met death daily? What happened to the Keren of Kentebai Hedad who was slaughtered by the coward enemy? What happened to the town where Biltugai was hanged on a pole after being killed by a helicopter while retreating after a daring operation? What happened to the town that witnessed the display of the martyrs of Geleb? What happened to the town of Gira Fiori where the martyrs of Halhal were displayed? What happened to the town of Saadia who finished the traitor Ali Bekhit? Were is the rage? What happened to the manhood of Keren? Has Keren decided to tolerate the new Shambel Belays, General Werqus and Colonel Welanas? Why is Keren tolerating the unjust Hidgef?
I cannot comprehend it but there must be a good reason! However, I know that Kerenites, like the rest of Eritrea (excluding the classical opportunists) are fed up with the PFDJ. And it is about time that the resistance to injustice became more accentuated; which town will have the honor of leading the next defiance? Will Keren miss this opportunity to lead the way to a dignified life where freedoms and liberties would be realized? Would other towns and cities take this honor of leading the path? Honestly, I would love this to be started in Keren. Why? Even though the ingredients for a popular uprising has been thrown into the Eritrean cooking pan a long time ago, Kerenites are very competitive and would love to seize this honor. Again, I told you I will worry about Keren and you have many other places to focus on.
Regionalism? What is it anyway? If loving Keren is regionalism, then I am proudly a self-declared regionalist. I dont apologize when I say that I love Keren more than any other part of Eritrea. You do the same. Our combined love is the love of Eritrea. Defy the PFDJ that wants to destroy your bond to your birthplace. Defy the PFDJ that wants you to be a plant that is uprooted from its natural habitat to wither away and die. Love Eritrea, but let that love start from the place you know. If you dont love your close family, you will not be counted on to love the extended Eritrean family. If you dont love your birthplace, you will never be able to love the whole of Eritrea. Anything else is a sham meant to discourage you from being close to your roots.
To my fellow Kerenites: your Keren is vulgarized. It is occupied by an unjust regime that has oppressed it for too long. Your beloved Keren has become an off-limit to you. It is being ruled by Tor Serawit version 2. Rise up and defy it. You deserve to live free as you have dreamed for ages. You deserve to reclaim your harmony and exemplary social cohesion. You deserve to reclaim your religious institutions. You should claim your freedom before the PFDJ erodes it even more.
I will try to give you one Kerenite symbol with each article I write. You are invited to comment on the symbol and write your memories. You are also invited to guess how that symbol would behave under the PFDJ if it was brought to its original character. Furthermore, I urge you to keep your contacts alive. Boycott the PFDJ functions including the Bingo robberies in Saudi Arabia. Join the opposition to injustice actively. Prove your type of metal. Prove your proud character. Encourage your relatives and friends to reclaim the famous Kerenite defiance and rise up for freedom and democracy. Rise up for justice and fairness. Rise up to awaken and reclaim the dormant culture of action and bravery. Rise up to the level of the erstwhile patriots who loved Keren and their love overflowed to engulf the whole of Eritrea. The road to freedom should start from Keren. That is the natural start of victory. If you doubt that, ask Mussolini, Haile Sellassie and Mengistu.
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WHO IS THIS MAN?
