
So, glad to have yet more of my ignorance revealed to me (and lessened, at least a little) I suppose I should turn to Djibouti—the reason, after all, for being here. June 27 is the lucky day—in 1977 Djibouti attained its independence from France; alongside Arabic, French is still an official language of the nation, and recognized regional languages include Afar and Somali. The capital of Djibouti is Djibouti. Now that’s an easy one to remember! It’s a pretty small country—both size and population (less than 500,000 according to recent estimates)—but it’s in a part of the world that has a long history, trading with ancient Egypt, India and China. They’ve also had contact with the Arab world for over a thousand years, and Djibouti was the first nation on the African continent to accept Islam.

In 1975 the French government began to make more accommodations to the country demanding its independence, and following a referendum in May 1977, independence was enacted the next month.
In 1981 the country became a one-party state when the first president, Hassan Gouled Aptidon, declared his own party (People’s Rally for Progress) the only legitimate party in the nation. In 1991, a civil war broke out between the government and the rebel group Front for the Restoration of Unity and Democracy. The conflict was resolved with a peace accord in 1994, though the final peace accord was only signed in 2001, marking the official end of the civil war.
The 2005 elections were a multi-party affair—or they would have been if opposition parties hadn’t boycotted the elections. Aptidon’s nephew, who took over the leadership of the People’s Rally for Progress from his uncle, won—taking, apparently 100 percent of the vote from the 78.9 percent voter turnout.
It took some searching but eventually I found poem (well, actually, part of a poem) by the poem William J. F. Syad. He was born in what was then French Somalia in 1930—so it was some time to come before it would become Djibouti. After studying in Saudi Arabia and France, he worked for Radio Djibouti for a time before going into exile—he supported Somalian unity. He went to work in Somalia instead, working in the Somali foreign service. I found the poem online here.
Yesterday (Lines 8-21)
you have told me
my culture's past
wild thought
of my Somali
race
And like this fine sand
in the hollow
of a hand
you sift down into the past
where the mind
alone
may glean
—William J F Syad
No comments:
Post a Comment