School was going very bad for me . They learned everything in arabic wich i couldn't speak. I couldn't even speak somali fulently so everything became so hard for me. Not to mention i started getting bullied by the girls after a while and i wasn't even invited to play games anymore. But it was all good because i made a very close friend at the Quran school i just started at. It was a boy , a very helping one. He helpt me understand so much even though he didn't speak the same language as me , some times he made me the ink we use to write the quran with because i had no idea what it was and how to even make it. Sometimes he took the blame instead of me because he knew i wasn't use to this kind of violence and it hurted so much to see the Quran teacher attach him to a pole and beat him till he became all red just like he did with the other kids. The Quran school was the room of darkness , there were no lights or such things in there. It was a tiny house full of kids memorizing their quran loud so he could hear it. And its sad that every time i see quran all i think about is the Quran school times.
And its also sad that i have no idea where the close friend i made is at the moment. Maybe he got dropped in the civil war. Maybe he and his family moved to yemen where they originally came from. I wonder how they look like now , him and his sister and all the others i met. I wonder if they remember me as much as i remember them.
At this time me and my brother were starting to be like any other muqdisho living person but everybody always knew us as the european kids when they saw us outside. But in a nice way , i always got free ice-cream or candy every time i went shopping food for my grangran. It felt so good to meet goodhearted people among the evil people. We were having a good time and meeting good people in the middle of a something that wasn't that good.
It wasn't that big of a war untill much later but sometimes at night we would hear shootings from nowhere. I remember one day when i was at school and the somali prime minister was going to visit the famous muqdisho stadium wich was right next to my school. Suddenly the whole ground started shaking and lots of people ran into our school for protection. apparently a bomb had been exploded. It happend alot of times and i don't understand how me and my brother could survive in that city and come back without no injuries or anything. From the peacefull Europe to Somalia. but thats what makes me the person i am right now.
