Life in a remote area

Growing up in Barmil, a remote area in Wajir County, Kenya was a challenging but fulfilling experience that had a significant impact on my character and values. My parents were pastoralists, and we relied on the milk and meat from our livestock to survive. However, one of the most significant challenges we faced was the scarcity of clean water. We had to travel long distances to fetch water, which was a struggle for us.

As a young boy, I had various responsibilities, including looking after the camels and cows, while my sisters were responsible for taking care of the goats and fetching water and firewood. I vividly remember the routine we followed every evening after bringing the livestock back. We would study the Quran, an essential part of our lives, and my big brother, whom we called Kuri, was my mentor in the Somali language. I looked up to him as a role model and learned a lot from him.

Looking after the camels was a significant responsibility that came with its own set of challenges. I had to make sure they were well-fed and taken care of, and I had to watch over them to ensure they didn't wander off or get lost. Whenever we needed to take them to drink water, we had to trek about 20km to and from the watering hole, which was exhausting. However, we knew it was necessary to ensure the animals were healthy and had enough to drink.

One day, while looking after the camels, we lost approximately 30 of them, and my big brother counted and found them missing. I was beaten severely for not looking after them. The remaining ones we took home, and we searched for the others. We trekked about 30km in the middle of the night, and it was raining heavily. We didn't have torches, and there were no nearby neighbors. In the bush, birds were making sounds, and hyenas were making loud noises. My clothes were wet, and we had no umbrella. My big brother suggested we spend the night in a tree and search for the camels the next day. He told me to sleep but i was unable to sleep because it was heavy rain, and my clothes were wet.

At around midnight, the rain stopped, and a lion came to prey on us. I saw it first, and my heart began beating faster. My big brother, who was an experienced warrior, calmed me down and lit a fire using traditional methods to scare away the lion. He also threw sticks at it to keep it away. We sat there until around 5 am when a flock of hyenas came and fought with the lion, chasing it away. The whole night we didn’t sleep, and in the morning, we began to search for the camels. We finally found 10 of them in a place called Abaqmadobe in Wajir County, about 20 km from where we spent the previous night. We searched for 20 other missing camels but to no avail.

In the evening, at around 8 pm, we arrived at Abaqmadobe, exhausted and famished. We had not eaten anything all day, and our legs felt heavy. My eyes were also blurry from the fatigue. As we greeted a neighbor in our Somali dialect with "Asalamu Aleykum," a lady responded kindly with "Waaleykum salaam." My brother then explained our predicament to her and requested some food and water as visitors. Unfortunately, the lady responded in Somali, saying "Daankayna maimathin," which meant that they did not have any water at the moment as they fetched it from a water pan located around 15 km away, which had not yet arrived.

Despite our disappointment in not finding water and food at our first neighbor's home in Abaqmadobe, my brother and I continued on our journey. We walked for hours, our legs heavy and our stomachs empty. However, we remained determined to find help, and after another 7 km, we finally reached another neighbor's home. They welcomed us with open arms and provided us with much-needed water and food. We were grateful for their kindness and hospitality.

The following day, I was given the task of taking the ten camels we had found back home, while my brother stayed behind to take care of the rest. The journey home was long and treacherous, and I had no water or food to sustain me. But even at just eight years old, I knew that I had to complete this task. I pushed through the exhaustion and finally arrived home, relieved and grateful for the camel that would provide us with much-needed sustenance.

However, this experience had made me realize that I needed more than just the ability to care for livestock. I yearned for formal education, which would provide me with new opportunities and skills. But in our patriarchal Somali society, this desire was not always supported. When I approached my father about my desire for education, he dismissed it, considering it a waste of time. In our society, livestock was often considered more valuable than education, especially for girls.

Despite my father's disapproval, I knew that education was essential to my future. I hatched a plan to sneak away to the main town, Wajir, which was about 80 km from our village. In the evening, after bringing the camel home, I embarked on my journey to Wajir. I had never been to the town before, and the journey was long and daunting. I was alone, with nothing but the clothes on my back and a jerry can of water to quench my thirst. I was afraid of being traced by my father and anyone else who might try to stop me, so I stepped on grass to avoid leaving footprints.

It took me four long days to finally reach Wajir, tired and hungry, but also determined. I had risked everything to pursue my dream of education, and I knew that it was the right choice for me. Despite the challenges and obstacles, I was ready to work hard and pursue my education with all my heart.

Despite the challenges we faced, life in Barmil had its own beauty. We lived in close-knit communities where everyone looked out for one another. We shared everything we had, from food to resources, and helped each other in times of need. Our simple way of life taught us the value of hard work, perseverance, and resilience.

In conclusion, growing up in a remote area in Wajir County was not easy, but it was a fulfilling experience that shaped my character and values. It taught me the importance of community, hard work, and respect for nature. Even though I am now in a different place, I cherish the memories of my childhood in Barmil, and it will always be a significant part of who I am today.