Translated by: MOHAMED-EID
After a period filled with travel and a flood of continuous memories, I’ve spent a year and a little over in the United States, specifically in the state of Minnesota. I arrived in this state having never experienced life abroad before, although I had imagined what a new life in the diaspora might be like. But my mental picture didn’t match reality at all — in fact, the difference was overwhelming. What I imagined turned out to be an illusion; what I encountered was the truth. I encountered new habits, people, a new way of life, new sleep patterns, new foods, new thoughts, new environments, a new city, new social scenes, and new customs — everything felt completely new. It disconnected from anything I had known before. I was forced to adjust to all these new things, not by choice, but by the circumstances and the reality around me, which left me little room to decide otherwise.
What I imagined turned out to be an illusion; what I encountered was the truth.
Musharraf
When I first set foot in America, it felt like I had endless choices ahead of me. But those options were swiftly swept away and trampled under the weight of reality — the reality I met on my very first day, a reality that now feels almost normal to me, one I’ve become accustomed to. Suppose I pause briefly to reflect on all this newness and how I’ve changed. In that case, I can start with the things I’ve learned in this state and the transformations in my mindset: I remember, about a week and some days after arriving in the U.S., a powerful line of poetry from a beloved Somali poet, C/Shakuur Af-magaaxshe, came to mind unexpectedly and began echoing in my head. That single line is a world of wisdom in itself — far too deep to fully unpack. Even now, long after it first struck me, that line still lives vividly in my mind. It goes, Muxuu aragti aan qabay wacyiga imanayaa beenshay,” meaning, The awareness that was once mine is now denied by the reality that has arrived.
Muxuu aragti aan qabay wacyiga imanayaa beenshay
Af-Magaaxshe
Every day that passed after that seemed to disprove another belief I once held. Not that I was always clinging to incorrect views — but each day exposed some idea I had, either proving it false, forcing me to face a harsher truth, or revealing that what I thought was sound was fragile, leading me to an even deeper, more honest understanding. There was a time I resisted change. I saw myself as someone steady — someone who didn’t just follow every new idea. But eventually, I came to realize that letting go of outdated views and embracing new ones isn’t weakness; it’s a sign that you’re alive — that you’re a human being, not a stone that stays in one place unchanged. “When the facts change, I change my mind – what do you do, sir?” This is a paraphrase of a famous line attributed to the economist John Maynard Keynes. There were perspectives I once held that I’ve since moved away from — such as ideas about the Somali and Ethiopian communities, the importance of ancestral lineage, marriage, women, relationships, intercourse, human bloodlines, and how to live with others. Some of these beliefs were strengthened, while others fell apart, exposed as groundless or meaningless.
This entire period has been one in which reality pushed me closer to truth and pulled me away from illusion, even while I was emotionally resistant, hesitant to abandon my former stance. But again, it wasn’t really up to me — reality was simply stronger than my personal preferences. Reality revealed to me that many things I believed were false. It showed me that I wasn’t the person I thought I was and that I needed to change far more than I’d ever imagined. And so I struggled alongside this thing people call “reality” while life, ordinary, everyday life, marched on. During this time, I found myself watching the epic series Game of Thrones — and to anyone who hasn’t watched it yet: I urge you to do so before you leave this earth. By the time I reached the final season (season eight, episode six), a line spoken by the man often called “the cleverest person alive,” Tyrion Lannister, struck me deeply: He said something along the lines of, “I thought I was wise, but I wasn’t… I thought I knew what was right, but I didn’t.” When I heard that, it hit me like a lightning bolt. I saw myself in him. It became clear to me that I, too, had misunderstood so many things I once believed I understood. I judged myself then — and sentenced myself, like Tyrion, to spend the rest of my life correcting my past mistakes and striving toward what is good and just.
“I thought I was wise, but I wasn’t… I thought I knew what was right, but I didn’t.”
Lannister
I discovered new hangout spots, met new people, and tried new foods. Among the places that became part of my routine was Ridgeway Parkway Park — a peaceful place where people go to walk, relax, and escape the city’s noise. Some sit in their cars and enjoy the scenic view of the city. Others walk around enjoying the breeze, depending on the season, while parents bring their kids to play and spend quality time together. Places like this became part of my new lifestyle. Another beloved spot was Uncommon Grounds Coffeehouse, where I’d often be found around 9 p.m., winding down. The coffee there isn’t necessarily better than anywhere else, but what sets it apart is the ambience: dim lighting, quiet conversations, people who know exactly why they’re there. It reminded me of the cozy, loud little hotspots back in Jigjiga, with low lighting and bustling voices. This café became one of my favorite hideouts when I had free time.
I tried fast food for the first time, and while I’ve sampled many chains, Raising Cane’s Chicken Fingers became my favorite. I developed a real love for their food. I also can’t forget the breakfast at Capitol Café, a Somali restaurant where the food is lovingly prepared by Somali mothers. I suspect part of why I love their breakfast so much is that it reminds me of the morning meals my mother used to prepare. That emotional memory makes their food all the more delicious to me. I met many new people with various customs and personalities. I also saw familiar people in new ways — and others saw me anew as well. One of the most surprising lessons was discovering how vastly different people can be — some leaving you stunned, others leaving you inspired. From those interactions, I learned how to adjust and how to deal with each person appropriately.
I suspect part of why I love their breakfast so much is that it reminds me of the morning meals my mother used to prepare.
Musharraf
The best guidance I found for dealing with people came from the teachings of Allah (SWT) and His Messenger (PBUH): “And speak to people kindly.” [Qur’an]
“A kind word is charity.” [Prophet Muhammad, PBUH] I found nothing better than to treat every person with kind words and patience. This not only benefited me emotionally but also served as a barrier to conflict — a peaceful path rooted in human decency. Kindness itself reminded me of my humanity and gave others no reason to bring me harm, only good. Another quote from Tyrion Lannister that deeply resonated with me was, “Ever tried, ever failed? no matter, try again, fail again, fail better. The world is yours. Treat everyone kindly and light up the night.” What amazed me was how he placed the highest value not on power or achievement but on kindness, decency, and illuminating the lives of others. That quote became something I carry within me, urging me to treat every human with compassion, to share goodness wherever I can.
In time, some people became like family, offering unconditional love, care, joy, peace, and support. They worry about my pain and think about my well-being. After a year and a little over, Minnesota has truly become my home. I’m settled here now, deeply connected—like I am to the characters of Game of Thrones.
Haddaad nolosha qawaddaan
~A. Saleebaan Bidde.
Nabad gala ee haajira.
- Saint Paul is my Tyrion Lannister — my entry point into Minnesota.
- Eagan and Roseville are Arya Stark and Jon Snow, each with a unique place in my story.
- Minneapolis, however, is like Cersei Lannister — loud, overwhelming, crowded, and full of falsehoods and danger. I don’t like going there.
I left my homeland carrying this song:
“Sawkii nabigu yidhi: (scw)
‘Haddaad nolosha qawaddaan
Nabad gala ee haajira.”
“Didn’t the Prophet (PBUH) say, ‘If you are dissatisfied with life, seek peace and migrate?”
~A. Saleebaan Bidde. And I came to a place I didn’t fear, a place that felt safe and—as peaceful as you make it, of course—a place full of hope and promise, a place that says to me, “I am full — what more could you possibly add?”
The original story was written by Musharraf Dhof on Facebook. https://www.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=24391389987127550&id=100000496622715&mibextid=wwXIfr&rdid=9RomZouQI98wLefw#