In a very young age, following the footsteps of my father, I started going to the Masjid regularly and since there was limited electricity in my city, I was not able to go the Masjid at night times.
Cibaado was my childhood friend, she used to live with her widow daughter Aisha in a house which located near my road to the masjid. Cibaado used to sit in a daily bases under a very big and beautiful tree that was planted just in front of her house, a small house which is built up in a traditional way of Somalis, component of woods and clothes, covered by a red plastid.
Love of religious people, without consideration of their age, color ot ethnis is a global mystery. Cibaado admired me and while going to the Masjid, she used to call me and tell me “moke dua fot me while praying”. Also when I come back, she used to tell me the childhood tales, which I loved it very much.
However, one day I noticed that Cibaado’s hands were shaking, it seemed to me a sickness, but when I asked an uncle, I get to know that it was natural, I was being told that when I get old, my hands will shake also due to the oldness and I will not be able to control it, then since ever getting old and being uncontrollable to my own hands became my greatest fear!
Written by: Abdiqani Eid Elmi
Email: qanoeid@gmail.com