I ordered a taxi one frantic afternoon. No surprise, but a pleasant chance, the caby was a Somali. I slid into the cab instantly realaxing and looking forward to a good conversation and stress free ride. You see i usually keep a close eye on which roots cabies take.They love to cheat a few dollars here and there from an unsuspecting customer. Not to sound discriminatory, but by experience Somali cabies have never tried that on me.

I let him know i too am a Somali with the universal "ii waran sxb". He grinned, picking up instantly on my weak grammar. "So ah... war you bharn here" he starts off. Defensive but all too use to the ridicule i said "no, but i grew up here". He nodded, spat out the window and thought for another conversation started. "So ah... you go to skool?" he asks. I nod, and we start on the chit chat. Taken in by the quality of the sunny Tuesday afternoon, i stare out the window. Noticing the gradual loss of interest on my half the cabie brings out the good stuff. " I heard of a young girl, about your age who recently was killed by her Nigerian boy friend" he says. Drawn in, i crack the window open and allow a fresh summer breeze to swirl into the car. uh-hu... i urge him on. "yes, she was beautiful girl, oh very beautiful. she run away from her home, the parents could not control her... she went with a Nigerian man" he shook his head in disapproval. "He (the Nigerian) cut her up into pieces and throw her away like garbage. why? because she wanted to leave him". In contemplation i asked him who he thought was at fault? expecting that he would blame the usual suspects, the parents... or perhaps western values. "You" he says. "Me!" with a confused laugh i pause for an explanation. "you see..., our woman here going with any man they can find. what is wrong with Somali youth is they are all lost. all are girls cant find a good man. they go with Jamaicans and Pakistanis why?! because your generation is lost." he then ended with a line that hit home.... "us Somalis we are survivalist, we will survive".

Destination arrived, i paid what i owed, wished him fair well. A little offended i went on with my day. On my lunch break i replayed the conversation in my head ( i eat alone). He was right, we are to blame. The male Somali youth. Still not yet men, but no longer children, we fall short on all of our responsibilities. In truth, when Somali woman out number Somali men by three to one in Canada what do we expect them to do? and even then, the Somali manchild is a far cry from a stable future. Caught up in foolish hoop dreams and rap fantasies. Emulating the worst cultures we could imitate. With no self worth or self respect. Why would these woman consider a Somali partner. Oh yea... it hit me. Now that i woke up, now that i realized this desperate situation we are in as a community, I looked around. I felt alone, how many others felt the way i did. It dawned on me, We are the last of a dying breed.