Sanadahii

Waxaan ahaan jiray waagaasi, ma ka harin waxna: jir-ahaan nin qura, waxaan ahaa wali wiil cunuga. Waxaan ogaa ilaa iyo waqti, waxayse wada dhacayn kulli dhamaadkii diraacda, hal galab iyo hal foog. Waxaan ku noolayn wada jir, ku-dhawaadba si qarsan, qol xigay waddo. Silvia ayaa igu dhahday habeenkaas waxay ahayd inaan tago ama ay tagto iyadu - waxna maan isku lehaynin. Waxaan ka tuugay inaan isku dayno jeer kale; waan dhinac iil oo habsiisanaa.

Waxay igu dhahday:

- Waa maxay muraadku? - Waxaan mugdiga kula dhax hadlaynay cod hooseeya.

Deeto Silvia waa seexadtay, anina waxaan ilaa iyo foogta kula hayay jilibkayga kaydii. Waxay foogtu u soo baxday say u soo baxi jirtay, waxayna ahayd qabaw badan; Silvia timahaa ugu soo dul dhacsanaa indhaha, mayna dhaqdhaqaaqaynin. Gudcurkaan dhaxdiisa ka soo fiirsanayay aminka oo gudbaya, waan ogaa inuu gudbayay oo roorayay, iyo in banaanku ka jiray ciiryaamo. Inta dhan ee aan kula noolaa Silvia qolkaas waxay ahayd maalin iyo habeen qura, oo haddayr ku dhamaanaysay foogta. Dabadeed waan gartay inayan waligayda igula dhax sacon doonin ciiryaamada ugubsan.

Waxaa ka fiicanayd anoon soo kacinin inaan labbistay oo iska baxay. Waxaase haddayr madaxa iigu jiray wax inaan waydiiyo. Waan sugay, anoo iska doonaya hurdo.

Goortay soo kacday, Silvia waa ii muusaabtay. Waxaan sii wadanay wada hadalidda. Waxay dhahday:

- Way fiican tahay in daacad laysu naqodo, sayna oo kale.

- Oh, Silvia! - ayaan ku nuxnuxleeyay -, maxaan samayn doonaa jeerkaan ka tago halkan? Halkeen u kaci doonaa?

Kaasuu ahaa waxa ahaa inaan waydiiyo. Iyadoo ka qaadin jeegada barkinta ayay u muusaabtay jeer kale, si raallisan.

- Sawiryahaw - ayay dhahday -, waxaad u kaci doontaa halkaad doonto. Saw ma fiicano in la naqodo xor? Waxaad baran doontaa gabro badan, waxaad samayn doontaa waxyaabaha dhan ee aad jacashahay. Alle!, waan kaa masayrsanahay.

Haddayraa foogtu wada buuxinaysay qolka waxaana ku soo haray qura xoogaa kul sariirta. Silvia waxay kula sugaysay dulqaad.

- Waxaad adi tahay dhilo oo kale - ayaan ku dhahay - had iyo jeerna waad ahayd.

Silvia ma furin indhaha.

- Haddayr oo aad sheegtay ma ku fiicanaadtay? - ayay igu dhahday.

Dabadeed waxaan iskaga iil sidii iyadoo joogin, waxaana iska fiirinayay saqafka oo ku ooyayay shib. Ilimada waxay ii buuxinayayn indhaha oo ku dareerayayn barkinta. Ma ku jirin qiimo in laga warhelo.

Waqti badanaa ka soo gudbay, haddayrna waan ogahay in ilimadaas shibsan ay ahaayayn waxa kaliya ee ninnimo aan kula dhaqmay Silvia; waan ogahay inaan u ooynayay maahee iyada bal inaan ilsaaray qaddartaydii. Waxaan ani ahaa waagaas, ma ka harin waxna. Waxaa ka haray qura inaan gartay qofkaan ahaan lehaa timaadtada.

Deeto Silvia waxay igu dhahday:

- Bas waaye. Waa inaan kacaa.

Waan isla wada kacnay, labadaya. Maan arkin iyadoo labbisanaysa. Waxaan ku joogsaday dhaqso, deeto xagga dariishadda; waxaanna fiirinayay geedahii oo soo dhax muuqada. Gadaasha ciiryaamada waxaa tiil qoraxdii, qoraxda jeerar tahan diirin jirtay qolka. Xataa Silvia waxay ku labbisadtay dhaqso, waxayna i waydiisay haddaan soo sii urursan lehaa alaabadaydii. Waxaan ku dhahay horta hore waxaan doonayay inaan saaro qahweha, waxaanna shiday birjikada.

Silvia, iyadoo ku fadhiday hareeraha sariirta ayay bilawday inay habaysadto cidiyaha. Tagtadii waxay kula habaysan jirtay miiska. Waxay u ekayd qof maahsan timahaana ugu soo dul dhacdhacayay indhaha; dabadeed waxay kula ruxruxi jirtay madaxa oo iska xorayn jirtay. Waxaan ku dhax meermeertay qolka oo ka soo urursaday alaabadaydii. Waxaan ku hishay kursi dushiisa oo isla goortii Silvia ayaa bootin ku soo joogsadtay oo u roortay inay damiso jalammada qahweha ka soo qubanayay.

Dabadeed waxaan qaadtay sanduuqa oo ku ridtay alaabtii. Ku sii dhax jirka taas, waxaan gudahaygii kula xoojinayay inaan soo urursado xusuusaha xunxun ee aan ka haystay Silvia: macnadaridaydii, camalxumadaydii, erayadaydii dhibta lehaa, haryuubyadaydii. Taasaan ka soo sii qaadanayay qolkayda. Waxaan ka tagayay wuxuu ahaa ciiryaamada.

Goortaan dhameeyay, wuu diyaarsanaa qahwehu. Waxaan ku qaadanay anagoo kor istaagan birjikada. Silvia wax ayay dhahday, inay maalintaas u sacodtay inay soo aragto nin, si ay ugala soo hadasho arin. Waxyar kadib waxaan iska dhigay koobka oo la baxay sanduuqii. Dibada, ciiryaamadii iyo qoraxdaa indhobeelinayay.

Qore: Cesare Pavese (1908 – 1950)

Sheeko: Gaaban (Recconti II, 1960)

Dal: Itaaliya

Tarjamay: Samantar Maxammad saciid

 

***

Gli anni

Di quel che ero allora non resta più niente: appena uomo, ero ancora

un ragazzo. Lo sapevo da un pezzo, ma tutto avvenne alla fine

dell'inverno, una sera e un mattino. Stavamo insieme, quasi nascosti, in

una stanza che dava su un viale. Silvia mi disse, quella notte, che dovevo

andarmene, o andarsene lei -non avevamo più niente da fare insieme. La

supplicai di lasciare che provassimo ancora; ero disteso al suo fianco e

l'abbracciavo. Lei mi disse: - A che scopo? - Parlavamo a voce bassa, nel

buio. Poi Silvia s'addormentò, e io tenni sino al mattino un ginocchio

contro il suo.

Comparve il mattino com'era sempre comparso, e faceva molto freddo;

Silvia aveva i capelli negli occhi e non si muoveva. Nella penombra io

guardavo il tempo passare, sapevo che passava e correva, e che fuori c'era

la nebbia. Tutto il tempo che ero stato con Silvia in quella stanza, era

come una sola giornata e una notte, che adesso finiva al mattino. Allora

capii che non sarebbe mai piu' uscita con me nella nebbia fresca.

Era meglio se mi vestivo e me ne andavo senza svegliarla. Ma adesso

avevo in mente ancora una cosa da chiederle. Aspettai, cercando di

assopirmi.

Quando fu sveglia, Silvia mi fece un sorriso. Riprendemmo a parlare.

Lei disse: - E' bello essere sinceri come noi. - Oh Silvia, - bisbigliai,

- che cosa farò uscendo di qui? dove andrò?- Era questo che avevo da

chiederle. Senza staccar la nuca dal cuscino, lei sorrise di nuovo,

beatamente. - Sciocco, -disse, - andrai dove vuoi. Non è bello esser

liberi? Conoscerai tante ragazze, farai tutte le cose che vuoi. Parola,

che t'invidio.

Adesso il mattino riempiva la stanza e non c'era un po' di calore che

nel letto. Silvia aspettava paziente. - Tu sei come una prostituta, -le

dissi, - e lo sei sempre stata.

Silvia non aprì gli occhi. - Ora che lo hai detto stai meglio? - mi

disse.

Allora me ne stetti come se lei non ci fosse, e guardavo il soffitto e

piangevo senza rumore. Le lacrime mi riempivano gli occhi e colavano sul

guanciale. Non valeva la pena di farmene accorgere. Tanto tempo è passato,

e adesso so che quelle lacrime mute furon l'unica cosa da uomo che feci

con Silvia; so che piangevo non per lei ma perchè avevo intravisto il mio

destino. Di quel che ero allora non resta piu' niente. Resta soltanto che

avevo capito chi sarei stato in avvenire.

Poi Silvia mi disse: - Adesso basta. Devo alzarmi.

Ci alzammo insieme, tutt'e due. Non la vidi vestirsi. Fui presto in

piedi, alla finestra, e guardavo le piante trasparire. Dietro la nebbia

c'era il sole, il sole che tante volte aveva intiepidito la stanza. Anche

Silvia fu presto vestita, e mi chiese se non portavo con me la mia roba.

Le dissi che prima volevo scaldarmi il caffè, e accesi il fornello.

Silvia, seduta alla sponda del letto, si mise a rifarsi le unghie. In

passato se l'era sempre rifatte al tavolino. Sembrava soprapensiero e i

capelli le cadevano continuamente negli occhi. Allora dava scosse con la

testa e si liberava. Io girai per la stanza e raccolsi la roba. Ne feci un

mucchio su una sedia e a un tratto Silvia saltò in piedi e corse a

spegnere il caffè che versava.

Poi tirai la valigia e ci misi la roba. Intanto, dentro mi sforzavo di

raccogliere tutti i ricordi spiacevoli che avevo di Silvia - le futilità,

i malumori, le parole irritanti, le rughe. Questo portavo via dalla sua

stanza. Quel che lasciavo era una nebbia.

Quande'ebbi finito era pronto il caffè. Lo prendemmo in piedi, accanto

al fornello. Silvia disse qualcosa, che quel giorno sarebbe andata da un

tale, a parlare di una faccenda. Poco dopo, deposi la tazza e me ne andai

con la valigia. Fuori la nebbia e il sole accecavano.

Baxnaanismarka labo isqaba

Qoraaga: Italo Calvino

Dalka: Itaaliya

Sheekada: gaaban (1958kii),

ee mid naqodtay sheekooyinka “Gli amori difficili – Jacaylada dhibka leh – (1970kii)”

Tarjamay: Samantar Maxammad Saciid

Shaqaaleha Arturo Massolari wuxuu qaban jiray kaltankiisii shaqada habeenkii, kan dhamaada lixda aroortii. Si uu ugu hoydaa guriga wuxuu lehaa jid dheer ah uu kula qaadan jiray baaskiil xiliga cimilada wanaagsan, ama taraam bilaha roobabawga iyo qabawga ah. Wuxuu iman jiray indhaxaadka todabadii rubuca la’ iyo todabadii gawda ah, kalkal inyar kahor, kalal kale kadib inyar goortay yeertay saacadda toosisada leh ee Elide, afadiisii.

Aalaa labada sharqani: yeerka toosisada iyo talaabooyinka soo galitaankiisa, ayaa iskula dultagi jiray maanka Elide iyagoo gaarsiinayay hurdada yoolkayda, hurdada isku duuban ee aroortii ay iskugu dayi jirtay inay ka sii miiradto xoogaa ilbiriqsi ah foolkuna ugu duugan barkinta. Deeto ayay uga soo kaci jirtay dhaqso sariirta ooba waxay gacmahii kula gashanaysay si indhoolenimo ah dulkagashigaydii gurikujoogga, timahuna ugu duldhacan indhahaydii. Elide saasay Arturo ugu soo gali jirtay jikada halkuu kalkaas weelalka maran ka soo baxinayay boorsaduu u qaadan jiray shaqada: cunoqaadkii iyo tarmuuskii, wuxuuna dhaxdhigi jiray alaabkudhaqa. Horay ayuuba u shiday birjikada oo qahwahii saaray. Isla goortuu fiiriyayba, Elide waxay marin jirtay gacan timaha oo isku dhibi jirtay inay indhaha furto, sidii iyadoo kal kastaba ka sii xishoon jirtay xoogaa suuradda hore ee uu saygu ka haystay goortuu ku soo hoyan jiray guriga, iyadoo had iyo jeer isku qasan, foolkayduna barhurdaysan. Goortay labo soo wada seexdayn waa arin kale, labaduba subaxdii way isla soo wada kacaan, labaduba waa wada sin.

Baddal-ahaanba kalkal isaa ahaa kan soo gali jiray jiifka si uu kula soo baraarujshaa koob qahwe, daqiiqo kahor intaynin toosisada yeerin; deeto waxkasta wuu ahaa dabiici, wajikaduudka ee soo tooskayda wuxuu yeelan jiray wahsi macaan, gacamahaydii muluqan oo kor u soo fidsami jiray ayaa ku soo duubmi jiray qoortiisa. Way is-habsiin jirayn. Arturo wuxuu gashanaa koorka madaroorsheha; goortay agtayda ka dareemi jirtayba way iska ogayd jawiga cimilada: hadduu soo dhacayay roob, dhado ama baraf, hadba suu qoyaan ama qabaw u ahaa. Laakiinba waxay dhahi jirtay: – See jawigu yahay? –, isana wuxuu say caadadiisu ahayd nus-kajan kula bilaabi jiray gunuunaco, isoo soo kormarayay dhibaha yaryar ee soo qabsaday, kana soo bilaabayay dhamaadka: ku imaatinka baaskiilkii, say cimiladu ahayd ka soo baxiddiisii warshadda, mid ka duwan tan jirtay galiddiisii ee habeenkii hore, shaqada calaacaladaydii, kutiri-kutaynka ka sacoday waaxdiisa, iyo waxyaalo saasba. 

Aminkaas gurigu had iyo jeer waa kulaal yaraa, laakiin Elide muluq ayay iska wada siin jirtay iyadoo xoogaa qarqaraysay, waxayna isku dhaqi jirtay mad-harka yar. Dabadeed isaa soo gali jiray, si aad u dagan ayuu iskaga siibi jiray dharka oo wuu isdhaqi jiray isna, tartiib tartiibba, wuxuu iska dulqaadi jiray boorkii iyo dufankii warshadda. Iyagoo saas ugu wada jiray qubaalka, barkawdu muluqan, qabaw xoogaa la kakan, jug uun isa siinayayn, gacanba gacan iskugu dhiibayayn saabuuntii, boomaatadii cadayga, iskana sii wadtayn waxii ay ahayd inay isdhahaan, waxaa la gaari jiray aminka isku soo dhawaanta, kalal kalena, mindhaa, intay isu sii rugayayn dhabarka, waxay isla dareemi jirayn maraaciyid oo hab isla siin jirayn.

Laakiin si dagdagba ah Elide ayaa la soo yeeri jirtay: – Alle! Meeqa saacba waaye? –, waxayna u roori jirtay inay u gashadto si dhaqsiinyo badan ah kaalso-kastuumada, goonada, iyadoo shanladii buraashka hore iyo dib u marinaysay timaha, horayna wajigii ugu durkinaysay muraayadda koomada, biinankii timahana ugu jiray bushimahii. Arturo wuxuu soo joogsan jiray gadaashayda, sigaar ayuu shidan jiray, iyana oo taagan ayuu daawan jiray, dhuuqayay sigaarkiisa, jeer kastana wuxuu u ekaa qof yare qalo ah ee uu halkaas waxba ka qaban karin. Elide goortay ahayd diyaar, waxay gashan jirtay koorka suran marindhaxaadka, way isa shumin jirayn, iradda ayay furi jirtay, wuxuuba maqli jiray iyadoo ka sii daadagaysay jaranjarada.

Arturo wuxuu naqon jiray kali. Wuxuu sharqantii taakooyinka Elide kula raaci jiray dhagta ilaa xatabada hoose, goortuuna maqli waayay, wuxuu kula raaci jiray maanka: kadlaynta ka dhax xiimaysay dayrka, iradda hore wayn, marshabeediga, joogsiga taraamka. Taraamka, baddal-ahaanse, si fiican ah wuu u maqli jiray: qiiqlayntiisa, joogsashadiisa, iyo jugta cagsaarka rakaabkiisa kal kastuu qof ka korayay. “Waa taa, way kortay”, ayuu la fikiray, wuxuuna arki jiray afadiisii oo ku dhaxduuban nimanka iyo naagaha ee shaqaalayaasha saaran “kaw iyo tobanka” oo gayn jiray warshaddii sida maalin kastaba. Wuxuu damin jiray gumadkii oo soo xiri jiray dariishaddii, waxay naqon jirtay mugdi oo gali jiray sariirtii.

Sariirta waxay ahayd say uga tagi jirtay Elide goortii kacitaankayda, laakiin docdii, tii Arturo, waxay ahayd ku-dhawaadba mid hufan, sidii iyadoo haddayto la habeeyay. Isaga wuxuu ku jiifan jiray docdiisa, say u ahaydba, laakiin kadib wuxuu u fidin jiray lug docdii kale, meeshuu afadiisii kulkaydu ku haray, deeto wuxuu fidin jiray lugtii kale, saasuuna tartiib tartiib isugu balaarin jiray docdii Elide, goonida kulka diiran ee lehaa wali qaabkii jirkayda, wuxuuna foolka ku duugi jiray barkintaydii, barafuunkaydii, oo seexan jiray.

Intaynin soo naqonin Elide, fiidkii, Arturo wuxuu lehaa waqti uu ku soo kormeeri jiray qolalka: birjikada ayuu shidi jiray oo saari jiray wax uu karshaa. Hawlaha qaarkawda isaa qaban jiray, saacadaha ka horeeyay cashada, sida habaynta sariirta, xaaqidda xoogaa, xataa radinta dharka si loo dhaqaa. Elide waxay u wada arki jirtay hawl si xun ah loo qabtay, laakiin haddii la sheego runta muunanin saari jirin dadaal wayn: wuxuu samayn jiray waxay ahayd dhaqmaad uun uu ku sugi jiray iyada, ku-dhawaadba sidii isoo kula kulmayay imaatinkayda darbiyada guriga gudahiisa, intay halkaas banaanka nalalkii sii shidmayayn iyana soo sii maraysay dukaanadii ee dhaxda jawiga ka baxsan waqtiga ee xaafadaha meeshay naago badani ka soo qabsan jirayn wax gadashadawdii habeenkii.

Kamadanbayskii talaabooyinkaydii jaranjarada ayuu maqli jiray, ka wada duwan kuwa subaxdii, ee culus hadda, waayo Elide waxay la soo kori jirtay daalkii hawsha shaqada iyo culayskii iibka. Arturo wuxuu kula kulmi jiray dagaddabaqeedka jaranjarada oo ka qaadi jiray gacantayda danbiisha, waxay gali jirayn iyagoo hadlayay. Elide waxay isku tuuri jirtay kursi yiil jikada, iyadoo iska qaadin koorka, intuu isaga ka soo baxinayay alaabta danbiisha. Dabadeed: – Haye!, aynu isa toosino – ayay dhahi jirtay, way kaci jirtay, kabboodka ayay iska siibi jirtay, waxay gashan jirtay gurikujooggaydii. Waxay bilaabi jirayn diyaarinta cunada: cashadii labadawda, deeto halaqjaflahii nasiinada ee kawda hiraabtii uu u qaadan lehaa warshadda, qadadii khafiifan ay u qaadan lehayd warshadda maalinta xigtay, iyo casariyehii u diyaar ahaan lehaa goortuu soo toosi lehaa casarkii.

Elide kis way mashquulnayd, kis waxay ku fadhiday kursiga cawda ah, waxayna u sheegaysay waxii uu qaban lehaa. Isaga, baddal-ahaanse, saacaddii ayay ahayd ee uu nastay, ma joogsanaynin, wuxuu rabay qabashada wax kasta, laakiin had iyo jeer isoo xoogaa maahsan, madaxuna meel kale ka jiray. Kalalka aminadaas qaarkawda waxay u dhawaayayn is hardin, erayo foolxun is dhaafsasho, waayo Elide waxay ka jacalaan lehayd inuu u dhugyeesho waxii uu qabanayay, inuu is hagarbaxiyo, ama inuu kula dhagdhago kalgacayl badan, inuu u sii dhawaado, inuu sabaalsiiyo in badan. Baddal-ahaanse Arturo, kadib xamaasaddiisii hore ee imaatinkayda, madaxiisu banaanka ayuu ka yiil guriga isoo ay ku jirtay isdajdajin waayo wuxuu ahaa inuu shaqo u baxo.

Miiskii oo diyaarsan, wax walba oo dhigan meeshii gacani ka gaari kartay si aananin loo kacin, waxaa iman jiray aminkii wadneqabadka ee inay ka haystayn waqti iska yar wadajirka, ku-dhawaadna maynanin la heli jirin qaadada afkii ee mahasho ay u qabayn inay isla joogaan oo gacmaha isku duubaan.

Laakiin wali intuunanin ka maransiinin qahwahii oo dhan, baaskiilkii ayuuba agjoogi jiray si uu u fiiriyo in wax kasta habaysnaa. Way is habsiin jirayn. Arturo deeto uun ayuu u ekaa inuu soo dhacsaday siday nugul iyo diiran u ahayd afadiisu. Laakiin wuxuu sii saaranayay baaskiilka garbaha oo kaga sii dagayay si taxaddaran jaranjarada.

Elide maacuuntii ayay dhaqi jirtay, kor iyo hoos waxay ka fiirfiirin jirtay guriga iyo waxyaalahuu ka qabtay saygaydii, iyadoo madaxa ruxaysay. Haddayto wuxuu dhaxroorayay dhabayaasha gudcursan, cabaarta ee nalalka dhifka ah, mindhaa wuu dhaafay kaalinkii shidaalka. Elide waxay gali jirtay sariirtii iyadoo daminaysay nalka. Docdaydii iyadoo jiiftay, waxay u fidin jirtay lug xagga docdii saygayda darta ka raadinta kulkiisa, laakiin kal kasta waxay ka sii dareemaysay docday jiifan jirtay inay ka sii diiranayd, tilmaan inuu xataa Arturo ku jiifan jiray halkaas, waxaana iyada ku abuurmi jiray kalnugayl.

L’avventura di due sposi

L’operaio Arturo Massolari faceva il turno della notte, quello che finisce alle sei. Per rincasare aveva un lungo tragitto, che compiva in bicicletta nella bella stagione, in tram nei mesi piovosi e invernali. Arrivava a casa tra le sei e tre quarti e le sette, cioè alle volte un po’ prima alle volte un po’ dopo che suonasse la sveglia della moglie, Elide.

Spesso i due rumori: il suono della sveglia e il passo di lui che entrava si sovrapponevano nella mente di Elide, raggiungendola in fondo al sonno, il sonno compatto della mattina presto che lei cercava di spremere ancora per qualche secondo col viso affondato nel guanciale. Poi si tirava su dal letto di strappo e già infilava le braccia alla cieca nella vestaglia, coi capelli sugli occhi. Gli appariva così, in cucina, dove Arturo stava tirando fuori i recipienti vuoti dalla borsa che si portava con sé sul lavoro: il portavivande, il termos, e li posava sull’acquaio. Aveva già acceso il fornello e aveva messo su il caffè. Appena lui la guardava, a Elide veniva da passarsi una mano sui capelli, da spalancare a forza gli occhi, come se ogni volta si vergognasse un po’ di questa prima immagine che il marito aveva di lei entrando in casa, sempre così in disordine, con la faccia mezz’addormentata. Quando due hanno dormito insieme è un’altra cosa, ci si ritrova al mattino a riaffiorare entrambi dallo stesso sonno, si è pari.

Alle volte invece era lui che entrava in camera a destarla, con la tazzina del caffè, un minuto prima che la sveglia suonasse; allora tutto era più naturale, la smorfia per uscire dal sonno prendeva una specie di dolcezza pigra, le braccia che s’alzavano per stirarsi, nude, finivano per cingere il collo di lui. S’abbracciavano. Arturo aveva indosso il giaccone impermeabile; a sentirselo vicino lei capiva il tempo che faceva: se pioveva o faceva nebbia o c’era neve, a secondo di com’era umido e freddo. Ma gli diceva lo stesso: – Che tempo fa? – e lui attaccava il suo solito brontolamento mezzo ironico, passando in rassegna gli inconvenienti che gli erano occorsi, cominciando dalla fine: il percorso in bici, il tempo trovato uscendo di fabbrica, diverso da quello di quando c’era entrato la sera prima, e le grane sul lavoro, le voci che correvano nel reparto, e così via.

A quell’ora, la casa era sempre poco scaldata, ma Elide s’era tutta spogliata, un po’ rabbrividendo, e si lavava, nello stanzino da bagno. Dietro veniva lui, più con calma, si spogliava e si lavava anche lui, lentamente, si toglieva di dosso la polvere e l’unto dell’officina. Così stando tutti e due intorno allo stesso lavabo, mezzo nudi, un po’ intirizziti, ogni tanto dandosi delle spinte, togliendosi di mano il sapone, il dentifricio, e continuando a dire le cose che avevano da dirsi, veniva il momento della confidenza, e alle volte, magari aiutandosi a vicenda a strofinarsi la schiena, s’insinuava una carezza, e si trovavano abbracciati.

Ma tutt’a un tratto Elide: – Dio! Che ora è già! – e correva a infilarsi il reggicalze, la gonna, tutto in fretta, in piedi, e con la spazzola già andava su e giù per i capelli, e sporgeva il viso allo specchio del comò, con le mollette strette tra le labbra. Arturo le veniva dietro, aveva acceso una sigaretta, e la guardava stando in piedi, fumando, e ogni volta pareva un po’ impacciato, di dover stare lì senza poter fare nulla. Elide era pronta, infilava il cappotto nel corridoio, si davano un bacio, apriva la porta e già la si sentiva correre giù per le scale.

Arturo restava solo. Seguiva il rumore dei tacchi di Elide giù per i gradini, e quando non la sentiva più continuava a seguirla col pensiero, quel trotterellare veloce per il cortile, il portone, il marciapiede, fino alla fermata del tram. Il tram lo sentiva bene, invece: stridere, fermarsi, e lo sbattere della pedana a ogni persona che saliva. “Ecco, l’ha preso”, pensava, e vedeva sua moglie aggrappata in mezzo alla folla d’operai e operaie sull “undici”, che la portava in fabbrica come tutti i giorni. Spegneva la cicca, chiudeva gli sportelli alla finestra, faceva buio, entrava in letto.

Il letto era come l’aveva lasciato Elide alzandosi, ma dalla parte sua, di Arturo, era quasi intatto, come fosse stato rifatto allora. Lui si coricava dalla propria parte, per bene, ma dopo allungava una gamba in là, dov’era rimasto il calore di sua moglie, poi ci allungava anche l’altra gamba, e così a poco a poco si spostava tutto dalla parte di Elide, in quella nicchia di tepore che conservava ancora la forma del corpo di lei, e affondava il viso nel suo guanciale, nel suo profumo, e s’addormentava.

Quando Elide tornava, alla sera, Arturo già da un po’ girava per le stanze: aveva acceso la stufa, messo qualcosa a cuocere. Certi lavori li faceva lui, in quelle ore prima di cena, come rifare il letto, spazzare un po’, anche mettere a bagno la roba da lavare. Elide poi trovava tutto malfatto, ma lui a dir la verità non ci metteva nessun impegno in più: quello che lui faceva era solo una specie di rituale per aspettare lei, quasi un venirle incontro pur restando tra le pareti di casa, mentre fuori s’accendevano le luci e lei passava per le botteghe in mezzo a quell’animazione fuori tempo dei quartieri dove ci sono tante donne che fanno la spesa alla sera.

Alla fine sentiva il passo per la scala, tutto diverso da quello della mattina, adesso appesantito, perché Elide saliva stanca dalla giornata di lavoro e carica della spesa. Arturo usciva sul pianerottolo, le prendeva di mano la sporta, entravano parlando. Lei si buttava su una sedia in cucina, senza togliersi il cappotto, intanto che lui levava la roba dalla sporta. Poi: – Su, diamoci un addrizzo, – lei diceva, e s’alzava, si toglieva il cappotto, si metteva in veste da casa. Cominciavano a preparare da mangiare: cena per tutt’e due, poi la merenda che si portava lui in fabbrica per l’intervallo dell’una di notte, la colazione che doveva portarsi in fabbrica lei l’indomani, e quella da lasciare pronta per quando lui l’indomani si sarebbe svegliato.

Lei un po’ sfaccendava un po’ si sedeva sulla seggiola di paglia e diceva a lui cosa doveva fare. Lui invece era l’ora in cui era riposato, si dava attorno, anzi voleva far tutto lui, ma sempre un po’ distratto, con la testa già ad altro. In quei momenti lì, alle volte arrivavano sul punto di urtarsi, di dirsi qualche parola brutta, perché lei lo avrebbe voluto più attento a quello che faceva, che ci mettesse più impegno, oppure che fosse più attaccato a lei, le stesse più vicino, le desse più consolazione. Invece lui, dopo il primo entusiasmo perché lei era tornata, stava già con la testa fuori di casa, fissato nel pensiero di far presto perché doveva andare.

Apparecchiata tavola, messa tutta la roba pronta a portata di mano per non doversi più alzare, allora c’era il momento dello struggimento che li pigliava tutti e due d’avere così poco tempo per stare insieme, e quasi non riuscivano a portarsi il cucchiaio alla bocca, dalla voglia che avevano di star lì a tenersi per mano. Ma non era ancora passato tutto il caffè e già lui era dietro la bicicletta a vedere se ogni cosa era in ordine. S’abbracciavano. Arturo sembrava che solo allora capisse com’era morbida e tiepida la sua sposa. Ma si caricava sulla spalla la canna della bici e scendeva attento le scale.

Elide lavava i piatti, riguardava la casa da cima a fondo, le cose che aveva fatto il marito, scuotendo il capo. Ora lui correva le strade buie, tra i radi fanali, forse era già dopo il gasometro. Elide andava a letto, spegneva la luce. Dalla propria parte, coricata, strisciava un piede verso il posto di suo marito, per cercare il calore di lui, ma ogni volta s’accorgeva che dove dormiva lei era più caldo, segno che anche Arturo aveva dormito lì, e ne provava una grande tenerezza.

Febo di Poggio

Halkeer indhihiisa qurxoon ayuu iigu balanqaaday sabaalin,
isla indhahaasna ayuu iskugu dayay iga qaadiddeeda.

(Here with his beautiful eyes he promised me solace,
And with those very eyes he tried to take it away from me.)
- MechelAngelo

Tarjumay: Samatar Maxamad Siciid

Soomaaliya

Maansoole: Andrea Nateri
Dal: Itaaliya
Turjumay: Samatar Maxamad Siciid

Waan ku arkay,
adigoo kor
ugaga soo dhaca
baarashuud,
hoos
had iyo jeer hoos u sii dhaca

Waan kugu arkay adigoo qaylinaya
bowdaha oo kala furan

adigoo leefaya dhuunta
ee bunduqa

Waan kugu arkay
gacan dhimadtay
dulsaaran gacan kale!

Waan ku arkay,
wali
waan arkayaa.
Caruurta waawayn,
gabdhaha yaryar la iibiyay
eeyo
dadcun ah

San-dhuubis
lagu qariyo
cabsi
mawd
laguna dareemin
wadnaha boodbooda

Kadeedka!,
wuuba
jiifsanayaa
jiifsanayaa!

Kaligiisa buu ku haraa
Kaligiisa buu ooyaa
Kuma ayaa danbiga leh?
Kuma ayaa leh?



Somalia

Ti ho visto,
dall'alto
scendere
a paracadute
giù
sempre più giù

ti ho visto gridare
a cosce aperte

leccare la canna
di fucile

ti ho visto
morta
mano sulla mano!

Ti ho visto,
ancora
vedo.
Bambini anziani,
bambine vendute
cani
a sbranare

Cocca sul naso
a nascondere
paura
morte
a non sentire
il cuor che batte

Il tormento
ormai
dorme
dorme!

Solo resta
Solo piange
Di chi è la colpa?
Di chi?

Habaryar

Qoraa: Ubax Cristina Cali Faarax
Dal: Itaaliya / Soomaaliya
Sheeko: Dheer (faqrado uun)
Turjumay: Samatar Maxamad Siciid

Habaryar,
Nuura ma karin in lafteeduba timaaddo. Waxa ay igu tiri waa inaan halkan ee saldhigga tareenka u soo aadaa iyada. Waxa ay igu tiri: “Tag oo u geey baakadan. Gabarta waxaa ay u socodtaa Landan, waxaana dhici karta in ay aragto gabartayda.” Marka, waxaan halkan u imid si aan baakada kuugu dhiibo, waayo Nuura waxa ay maqashay in gabarteeda dhashay gabar cunug oo doonaysaa in ay u dirto hadiyad cunugteeda ayeeyada ay u tahay. Markaad gaartid Landan, u tag ilmo-eedadaa oo u sheeg in hooyadeeda tan u soo dirtay. Nuura ma karin imaansho maantay waayo waxaa ay murkacisay canqawgeeda inta ay nadiifinaysay jaranjarada haddeerna ma karto xataa socod. Bal arag waxa nolashu kuu garadto?
Aad ilmo-eedadaa oo u sheeg in hooyadeeda u soo dirto barakadeeda. Gabdhihiina dhalinta yar waxaad wada tahiin wada casri maalmahan laakiin barakada hooyadaada wali waa hantidaada ugu muqaddasan. Waa sida nalagu soo barbaariyay: anagu marka caruurteenu koraan, waajibkeenu ee iyaga waa soo gabagabeeysmaa. Waad arki doontaa baakadan ma ku jiro wax badan, laakiin lacagtu waa ku adag tahay Nuura, waa in ay kaydsadtaa. Waad ogtahay, marka aad mushaharsadto inyarba, si aad isugu urursadto, waa inaad isgaajeeysaa. Marka, u sheeg ina-eedadaa in aysan u qaadanin xumaan, haddii hadiyaddu u muuqadto yaraan, waayo waqtigu waa isbaddalay mana nahin sidii aanu ahaan jirnay.

Habaryar,
Waad ogtahay, markaanu yarayn si ka duwan baanu u noolayn. Xoogaa baanu kaydsan jirnay dabadeedna waxaanu iibsan jirnay dhagadhago dahabeed sharaxan xataa haddii aynu haysanin joodari raaxo leh lagu seexdo. Haddii qof Itaaliya ama Maraykanka ka yimidna waxaanu waydiinsan jirnay in ay noo keenaan boorso maqaareed ama walkman. Sidaas baanu ugu dadi jirnay saboolnimadeena si wanaagsan. Dabadeed waxaanu kula banaanbixi jirnay wada labbis oo waanu isku xijaabi jirnay xirsi qobtolan, si aanu isaga ilaalino soo jiidasho isha kuuniga ah.
Hadda waqtigu waa isbaddalay, laakiin ayaamahaas, ...haahay sidee baanu u shaxaadsan jirnay nimanka. Waxaanu soo kaxeeysan jirnay kan ugu faqrisan si uu noo geeyo ristorante, oo waxaanu dalban jirnay dooro cacciatore, laakiin islamarkii qof kale oo la yimidba lacag ka badan waxaanu dhihi jirnay: ii iibi shaal garbasaareed, ii qaad halkan, waan jacelahay barafuunkaasi. Laakiin waxa ay iska wada ahaayayn maadeeys.

Habaryar,
Maqal sheekadan:
Maalin, mid guurdoon ah ayaa yimaada. Waakaa, ku tiirsan darbiga, lugihiisa lala arko iskaalsooyinkiisa cad, ka soo muuqdaan surwaalka hoostiisa. Ma ogtahayna waxa uu gashtay iskaalsooyinkiisa? Labo qalin ballpoint: hal buluug halna guduud. Wuxuu bilaabaa u socosho xaggeena Jaldhaf Jaldhaf Jaldhaf. Nuura waa i fiirisaa oo igula hunnuhunneeysaa: “Waaw! Midkan waa indheergarad!” Jaldhaf Jaldhaf Jaldhaf wuxuu u taagan yahay sidan oo kale, gacantiisa midig ayaa cuskadta iskafaalaha, lugihiisa waa isdhaafsan yahiin wuxuuna yiraahdaa:
“Halkee aadnaa maantay? Nuura-na waxa ay ugu hunnuhunneeysaa dhagtayda:
“Ka fiirso, kan wax ma haysto; xataa dooro ma aanu ka heli doonno!”
Marka, waa aniga tan ay tahay in ay u jawaabto indheergaradka kumilaawaha:
“Maya saaxiib, ma bixi karo, hooyaday waa ka soo laaban rabtaa farmashiyaha haddii ayna iga heli waaydo guriga waa waaladtaa waxaana ku dhaca jinniyo. Joog halkan oo nala cab xoogaa shaah!”
Kani waa waxa dhici jiray, laakiin waxaa uu naga ahaa iska maadeeys. Waxwalba waa duwanaa waqtigaasi.
Haahay, habaryar macaan, ninwalba baa na shukaansan jiray waana ahayd inaanu is-habeeyno oo u muuqanno qurux. Habeenimadii waxaanu marsan jirnay olio olivo timaheena. Waanu iskula rugi jirnay waxwalba meelwalba inta nimanku na soo booqanin si marka ay ku arkaan oo aadna la baxdid aad u wada dhalaashid. Laakiin halkan naaguhu waa ka wada duwan yahiin. Naagaha yurubiyiinta, sida ay iigu muuqadto, waxba kama warhayaan. Fiiriba, waxaa ay ka hadlaan nadaafo, laakiin halkan naag waxaa ay aaddaa musqusha, waa kaadisaa, waxaa ay ku darabdhaqadtaa waxeeda shukumaan xaanshiyeed dabadeedna waxaa ay ku dhaqdaa gacmaheeda saabuun. Sidee baad iigala hadashaa nadaafo haddii aad ku nadiifisay waxaada shukumaan xaanshiyeed?. Waa inaad is-habeeysaa si dhaldhalaal laguugu arko.

Habaryar,
Ma xusuusan kartid gabar-ahaanba sida Nuura u ekayd waayo waad yarayd. Waa dheerayd oo aadba ugu gibal caddayd oo ay ugu iftiimi jirtay sida nalkaas ee halkaas. Labadaynu waxaanu wada seexan jirnay isla qol. Waxaanuna shukaansi uga faa’iideeysan jirnay nimanka (laakiin qaar goonisan kaliya). Marka jacaylku ku qabto waad ka joogsadtaa dheeldheelka qaarkiisa.
Waxaana jiray reer-xamar oo ay xariggeeda hoos ugu dhacsan jirtay oo ay dariishadda uga dagan jirtay habeenkii. Kaasi waa jacayl. Reer-xamarkanna wuxuu ku noolaa daar abbaartameed ee halkaas sare ee gadaasha dariishad yar, gacaliso, ma mala’awaali kartid sida reero-xamarku ugu noolaayayn Muqdisho. Waa naga liidtayn. Faqri buu ahaa. Kaasi waa waxa ay ula jeedaan marka Talyaanigu dhahaan: “labo qalbi iyo mundul.”
Maxaad tiri... ma xusuusadtid? Reer-xamarku wuxuu ku noolaa magaalada dhaxe. Anaguna, waxaanu ku dhalannay waddada "Via Roma". Hadda, waxa ay ii sheegayn in Via Roma dabagaalayaal iyo waraabayaal ku nool yihiin! Kahor, waxaa ku yiil dukaano kabeed, gaar ahaanba dukaano muusikeed. Waxaad ku dhihi lehayd: ii duub Maykel Jackson, haa waakaasna, waa kuula dultaagnaan lehaayayn shan daqiiqood. Waxa ay haystayn cajaladduube, waa kaasi waxa ay haystayn. Layaabba!
Waad arki doontaa, baakada dhaxdeeda waxaa ku jira cajalad. Waxaa uga fududayd Nuura in ay duubto codkeeda ee in ay qorto. Halkaas, ee cajaladda, Nuura waa ugu sheegtaa gabarteeda waxwalba ay doonto in ay ku tiraahdo.

Habaryar,
Ma ogtahay inaad leedahay farac ee isir reer-xamar ah? Awoowgaa awoowgiisa hore, Cusmaan Yaasiin, oo ku dhashay magaalada Hobyo. Wuxuu aaday magaalada Muqdisho oo la kulmay gabar reer-xamar ah. Waxaa ku dhacay jacayl waalan waana guursaday. Waxaa ay u dhashay sagaal gabdhood. Waa nasiib badnaa oo sanooyin danbena badan wuxuu noqday nin taajirsan. Wuxuu la kulmay cadaawadda reerka gabarta, waxa ay isku dayayn in ay dib ugu diraan magaaladiisii hore iyagoo la qalqaalayay Talyaaniga. Reerkiisa kuma eegi jirin gabarta il wanaagsan. Gabdhaha reero-xamarku ma u aha geesi sida kuwa baadiyaha middanse waxaa ay dhashay gabdho kaliya. “Dayuusay, madax dandaanleyay, haddii lagu caayo, cay baa wax kuu ahayn, haddii lagu faansho, faan baa wax kuu ahayn.” Tani waa waxa ay ugu heesi jirayn.

Habaryar,
Waan ogahay in caruurtu u baahan yahiin barbaarin, laakiin waad hilmaantay inaanu reer guuraa nahay? Ee ma aha in Nuura ka jaceshahay gabarteeda in ka yar hooyo kasta. Ka gaarsii tani ina-eedadaa. Isla middan waa igu dhacday aniga. Waad dhashaa dabadeedna waa calaf ilaahay, sida ay dhahaanba. Waa calaamad kibireed inaad ku fikirtid inaad ka haysatid kormeer wada dhan caruurtaada. Wax awood ah uma aanu lehin sida dhacdooyinka nolasheenu u qaabsamaan. Aan kuu sheego sheekadayda. Walaalkay baa joogay Itoobiya oo wuxuu la dagaalamayay xukuumada Soomaaliyeed. Kani wuxuu ahaa labaadtan sano kahor. Waxaa jiray waanwaan ee toban maalmood marka waxaan ku laabtay Soomaaliya si aan u arko gabartayda. Danbeedto, waxaa iigu danbeeysay jeel ee sideed bilood, jeelka amniga. Waligay kama qaybqaadanin siyaasadda, laakiin walaalkay waa xiiseeyn jirtay. Marka aan ku guuleeystay inaan ka baxsado baan soo gaaray Qaahira. Waqtigaas, looma baahan jirin dokumeentiyo si loo galo Masar. Kadib waxaan imid Itaaliya halkan waa ahayd inaad lehayd dokumeentiyo, sawtaan kuu sheegay inaanu ahayn reer guuraa, waan imid waxaanna ahaa Tansaaniyad. Kani waxaa uu dhacay marka aan rabay inaan arko gabartayda ugu wayn. Mar danbe, marka wiilkayga ugu yar dhashay, waan u xusuustaa aad. Wuxuu ku dhashay Rooma, shanta nofeembar. Waqtigaas waxaa telefisiyoonka ka shidnaa Kunta Kinte oo marka takhtarkuna i arkay inaan u baahnaa qaliin, wuxuu dhahay waa inaanu sameeynaa isla markiiba si Kunta Kinte u dhasho isla waqtiga gaw oo uu u daawan lehaa taxanaha xigay. Waali baan la dhirfay.
Wiilkaygu waxaa loo qaaday Soomaaliya marka uu jiray sideed bilood, hadda waa labaadtan iyo shan jir wuxuuna doonaa inuu i soo booqdo. Waxaan habeeyay oo u diray wixii waraaqo rasmiyeed laakiin waa diidayn waayo wuxuu joogaa Simbaabwe wuxuuna haystaa baasaboor Soomaaliyeed xataa haddii uu ku dhashay halkan. Wiilkayga ma aan arkin labo iyo toban sanood, taasina ma aha xaq.

Habaryar,
Waan jacelahay caruurtayda, laakiin wadankan caruurtaydu ima daryeeli doonaan waqtigayga ee gabowga. Waxaa jiray waqti marka aan u fikiri jiray adiga oo kale, waxaan ku fikiri jiray in caashaqu lehin qaddarin marka la gaaro da’ gaar ah, laakiin hadda maya kuma fikiro, waxyaalaha qaarkood ma baddalmaan, xataa waqtiga gabownimada. Caashaqu had iyo jeer wuxuu ku dareensiiyaa ahaan gabar da’yar.
Nuura waxaa ay qabadtaa shaqo culus, waxaa ay nadiifisaa jaranjarooyin maalin walba. Waxaa ayna u sameeysaa shaqadan in ay keensadto reer-xamarkeeda oo halkaas, ee xero qaxoodti, ka baxsan la’. Nuura waxaa ay ku leedahay labo calaamadood waawayn gacanteeda, labo calaamadood madmadow oo ay yeeshay marka aanu ahayn gabdho yar. Kuwaasina waa xarfaha koowaad ee magacyada gacaliyaheeda. Nuura waxaa ay kula dagi jirtay hoos xariga waadaninna arki lehaynin ilaa iyo aroortii. Habeen baan ku-dhawaadba jiifay marka eedadeena timid.
“Aaway Nuura, aaway Nuura? Waa inaad ii sheegtaa!”
“Eedo maya, ma ogi!”
“Ma ogid” aniguna shib.
Ma aan sheegi lehin. Saw ma garanin, habeen uun Nuura waxa ay igu tiri:
“Walaal, waad ogtahay inaan ku jacelahay, laakiin ninkan waxaan u jacelahay si ka duwan.”
Waa sababta aan u joogay halkaas. Ma aananin hadlin, waan aamusay intii aan jawaabi lehaa, shibba. Xataa erayna. Waa sida ay u dhici jirayn.
Laakiin waad ogtahay in dadka haysanin waxba gabar dhalinyar oo qurxoon ay u tahay badeeco lakala gadisto oo la iska maquunin karin. Haddaba Nuura waxa ay siiyayn duqa isha la’. Duq ma ahaanin, laakiin waxaa uu noogu muuqday duq waayo wali aad baanu u yarayn. Ilbuunku waxaa uu lehaa waxyaalo badan uu ku hadiyadeeysto, ka badan-fiicanba doorada cacciatore. Waxaa ayna u dhashay kaas ilbuunka mid kaliya ee gabar oo hadda ay tahay inaad u geeysid baakadan.

Habaryar,
Hooyada, jacaylka ay u qabto cunuggeeda waa ka baxsan yahay jacaylkeeda ee iniinaha uu ka soo bu’aday. Cunuggu waa jiirkaada, jiir lagu koriyay caanahaada, ka soo go’ay jirkaada. Nuura had iyo jeer waa jacelayd gabarteeda. Waana aad ogtahay in iyadu tahay midda kaliya ay u lehaadtay fursad sharfan in ay dhasho. Waayo kadibba isla markii, minkeedu waxaa uu isu rogay minguur jacayl la’aan aawadiisa waana diiday inuu nafaqeeyo uurkujirka. Sanooyin badan baa gudbay inta ilbuunku furin. Wuxuu rabay inuu xaaskiisa daryeelo, badeecadaas qaalisan oo shilimo naqad ah ku galdhacsiiyay. Kaliyana ilaa iyo dhamaadka, marka gabownimo iyo dagaal yimaadayn, buu angaray iyada, u xoreeynayay mahashadeeda ee reer-xamarkeeda.

Habaryar,
Fiiri masawirkan. Waa sawirgacmeed masawirtay naag sawirgacmeedle Soomaali ah, magaceedu waa Saynab Cabdulqaadir. Waxaa ay hadda ku nooshahay Jermalka. Ma u jeeddaa qaababkan? Waa dad saxariirsan, waa dagaalka, tiiraanyada. Waa waaladtay, miskiinta. Waxaa ay hadda ku jirtaa Cusbitaalka Bukaanta Maskaxeed.
La hadal ina-eedadaa oo xusuuso inaad u sheegtid in hooyadeedu jaceshahay. Labadiina waa in aadanin kahanin jacaylkeeda ee reer-xamarka. Caruurtu waa kortaa oo markoodu waa yeeshaan caruur kale. Gabarteeda maqnaanta hooyadeeda sabaalin waa ay kaga heli doontaa caruurteeda. Nuura wax ma awooddo hadda, waa ka joogsadtay cunid si reer-xamarkeedu u yimaado.



LITTLE MOTHER

Habaryar*,
Nuura couldn't come in person. She told me to come here to the station in her place. She told me: "Go bring her this packet. The girl is going to London, and she might happen to see my daughter." So I am here to deliver this package to you, because Nuura heard that her daughter has given birth to a baby girl and she wants to send a present to her little grandchild. When you arrive in London, go to your cousin's and tell her that her mother sent her this. Nuura couldn't come today because she twisted her ankle while she was cleaning the stairs and now she cannot even walk. See what life has in store for you?
Go to your cousin's and tell her that her mother sends her blessing. You young women are all very modern nowadays but your mother's blessing still is your most sacred possession. That's the way we were raised: for us, when our children are grown up, our obligations to them are over. You'll see that this packet doesn't contain much, but that's because money is tight for Nuura, she has to save. You know, when you earn to little, in order to save, you have to go hungry. So tell your cousin not to take it badly if the present seems small, because times have changed and we are not what we used to be.

Habaryar,
You know, when we were young we lived differently. We would save a little and then buy gold filigree earrings even if we didn't have a comfortable mattress to sleep on. And if someone came from Italy or the United States we would ask them to bring us a leather bag or a walkman. That way, we disguised our poverty well. Then we would go out all dressed up and we would hide and amulet, a knotted xirsi, under our clothes to avoid attracting the evil eye of the envious.
Now times have changed, but in those days, ...... oh how we would take advantage of men. We would get the poorest of them to invite us to a restauranti, and we would order chicken cacciatore, but as soon as someone came along with more money we would say: buy me a new garbasar shawl, take me here, I like that perfume there. But it was all just for fun.

Habaryar,
Listen to this story:
One day one of these suitors comes along. There he is, leaning up against the door, his legs in full view with his white socks peeking out from under his pants. And do you know what he had slipped into his socks? Two ballpoint pens: one blue and one red. he starts walking towards us SLAP SLAP SLAP. Nuura looks at me and whispers in my ear: "Wow! This one is an intellectual!"
SLAP SLAP SLAP he stands like this, his right hand resting on the shelf, his legs crossed and he says:
"Where shall we go today?" and Nuura whispers in my ear:
"Watch out, this one has nothing; we won't even be able to get a chicken out of him!"
So I'm the one who has to answer the penniless intellectual:
"No, my friend, I can't go out, my mother is coming back from the farmascio and if she doesn't find me home she goes crazy and gets mad. Stay here a bit and drink some tea with us!"
This is what used to happen, but we were only joking around. Things were different then.
Ah, my dear little niece, everyone courted us and we had to take good care of ourselves to look our best. At nigth we'd put olio olivo in our hair. We rub everything all over ourselves when the men aren't there so that when they see you and you go out with them you shine all over. But here women are completely different. European women, it seems to me, have no idea. Look, they talk about cleanliness, but here a woman goes into the bathroom, she pees, she cleans her thing with a sheet of paper, and then she washes her hands with kitchen soap. How can you talk to me about cleanliness if you cleaned your thing with a sheet of paper? You must take care of yourself to be able to shine.

Habaryar,
You can't remember what Nuura looked like as a young woman because you were a child. She was tall and so light skinned that she shone like that lamp up there. The two of us slept in the same room. And we would take advantage of men (but only certain men). When you are in love you stop playing certain games.
And there was a reer Xamar for whom she would lower her rope and climb out of the window at night. That was love. And this reer Xamar lived behind a little window up there in an apartment building, my dear, you cannot imagine how the reer Xamar lived in Mogadishu. They were worse off than we were. He was poor. That's what they mean in Italian when they say: "two hearts in a hut."
What, you don't remember? The reer Xamar lived downtown. We, too, were born on Via Roma in Mogadishu. Now, they have told me that on Via Roma there are squirrels and hyenas! Before, there were shoe stores and above all there were music stores. You'd say: give me Maikol Jakson and, hey presto, they would record Maikol in five minutes. They had a cassette copier, that's what they had. Unbelievable!
You'll see, inside the package there is a cassette tape. It was easier for Nuura to record her voice than to write. There, on that tape, Nuura tells her daughter everything she wants to tell her.

Habaryar,
Do you know that you have a reer Xamar ancestor? Your great grandfather, Osman Yasin, born in the city of Obbia. He went to Mogadishu and he met a reer Xamar girl. He fell madly in love with her and he married her. She gave him nine daughters. He was lucky and after several years he was a wealthy man. He met with the hostility of the girl's family, they tried everything to have him sent back to his city of origin with the connivance of the Italians. His own family didn't look favorably upon the girl. Reer Xamar girls are not as courageous as bush women and this one only gave birth to daughters. "Silly woman, you with the frivolous ideas, there are no verses to insult you, there are no verses to honor you - Dayusey, madax dandaaley, haddii lagu caayo, cay baa wax kuu ahayn, haddii lagu faansho, faan baa wax kuu ahayn." This is what they used to sing to her.

Habaryar,
I know that children need raising, but have you forgotten that we are gypsies? It's not because Nuura loves her daughter less than a normal mother. Tell your cousin this. The same thing happened to me. You bring children into this world and then Allah will provide for them, as they say. It is a sign of arrogance to think you have complete control over your children. We have no say in the events that take hold of our lives.
Let me tell you my story. My brother was in Ethiopia and was fighting against the regime. This was over twenty years ago. There was a ten day truce so I went back to Somalia to see my daughter. Then I ended up in jail for eight months, in the security jail. I never got involved in politics, but my brother did. When I managed to escape I arrived in Cairo. At that time documents were not needed to enter Egypt. Then I came to Italy and here you had to have documents, I told you we were gypsies, I arrived and I was Tanzanian. This happened when I wanted to go to see my eldest daughter. Then, when my youngest son was born, I remember it well. He was born in Rome on November 5th. At that time they were showing Kunta Kinte on TV and when the doctor saw that I needed a c-section, he said that we'd do it right away so Kunta Kinte would be born in time to watch the next episode. I got very mad.
My son went back to Somalia when he was eight months old, now he is 25 and he wants to come and visit me. I had them send the necessary official papers but they refused him because he is in Zimbabwe and he has a Somali passport even if he was born her. I haven't seen my son in twelve years and that isn't right.

Habaryar,
I love my children, but in this country my children won't take care of me in my old age. There was a time when I thought like you, I thought love is not dignified at a certain age, but now I think no, certain things do not change, not even in old age. Love always makes you feel like a young girl.
Nuura does heavy work, she cleans stairs every day. And she does this job to have her reer Xamar join her, who's back there, stuck in a refugee camp. Nuura has two big marks on her arm, two black signs that she had done when we were young girls. And those are the initials of her beloved. Nuura would lower the rope and you wouldn't see her till dawn.
One night I was almost asleep when our aunt arrived.
"Where's Nuura, where is Nuura? You must tell me!"
"No aunt, I don't know!"
"You do know!" and I shib.
I wouldn't speak. You see, one night Nuura had said to me:
"Sister, you know I love you, but I love this man in a different way."
That's why I was there and I didn't speak, I kept silent and instead of answering, shib. Not a word. That's the way it went.
But you know that for people who own nothing a young and beautiful woman is a barter good that cannot be given up. So they gave Nuura to the old man without an eye. He wasn't old, but he seemed old to us because we were still very young. The guersce had a lot of things to offer, much better than chicken cacciatore. And she bore the guersce that one and only daughter to whom now you must bring this packet.

Habaryar,
For a woman, the love she feels for a child is separate from the love of the seed that generated it. Your child is your flesh, flesh raised with your milk, torn from your blood. Nuura has always loved her daughter. And you know she is the only on she had the privilege to give birth to. Because right after her, her womb became barren for lack of love and refused to nourish other embryos. Many years went by before the guersce repudiated her. He wanted to take care of his woman, that precious merchandise for which he had shelled out shillings in cash. And only at the very end, when old age and the war came, did he desert her, freeing her to desire her reer Xamar.

Habaryar,
Look at this photo. It's a painting by a Somali woman painter, her name is Zeinab Abdulqaadir. She now lives in Germany. Do you see these shapes? They are suffering people, the war, grief. She went crazy, poor woman. She is now in a psychiatric hospital.
Speak to your cousin and remember to tell her that her mother loves her. You two should not resent her love for a reer Xamar. Children grow up and in turn have other children. Her daughter will find consolation for her mother's absence in her own children. Nuura can't do anything now, she has stopped eating so her reer Xamar can come.


NOTES (METAMORPHOSES - a jounal of literary translation)
*In this story there are some Somali words like habaryar and reer Xamar; and some Somali versions of Italian words: "restauranti," "farmascio" (farmacy), "olio olivo," "guersco" (blind in one eye). Habaryar means maternal aunt; the literal translation is "little mother." In Somali it is customary to address nephews and nieces as uncles/aunts or children as mom/dad. The reer Xamar are the inhabitants of Mogadishu of Arab origin. Literally it means inhabitants of Xamar, that is, Mogadishu.

Madre piccola
Ubax Cristina Ali Farah
translated by Giovanna Bellesia
and Victoria Offredi Poletto