I recently returned from a fall graduation ceremony. I was there to cheer on for two of my friends graduating. The atmosphere was one of peace and joyous sounds. As the ceremony went underway, I couldn’t help but think about the tragedy of Mogadisho three weeks ago. The same feelings and sounds I felt today were also there in Hotel Shamo in that fateful December morning. Proud parents, graduates, friends of graduates, like me, faculty members and all kinds of family relatives. It couldn’t have been more normal; like the usual glitches with the microphones conspicuously present.
The joy and exuberant expressions on my friends’ faces were beautiful. The hope in their eyes were priceless. I can’t imagine what the relatives and friends of the graduates murdered in Hotel Shamo bombing felt but it is indescribable no doubt.
Then afterward, my friend’s father (who I just met for the first time) asked me where I was from, and when I told him Somalia, he immediately pointed out the mess that’s happening in Somalia. It only occurred to me later that the strange thing is that I’m here in a university graduation ceremony talking about the graduation ceremony bombing of three weeks ago in ‘Disho. Who knows if my fate hadn’t turn out the way it has, perhaps this conversation would never have occurred. The mystery of life, I reckon.