The Lady I Accidently Offended
By Jilcha Hamid
So the Gabaa brigade (that's what I call my family) arrived in the remote mountainous Iftoha district in eastern Oromia. The place my family called home for centuries, before largely relocating to the urban areas. I remember looking up at the houses spread out in the mountains and thinking, why did my ancestors choose to settle here of all places? Very rough living conditions compared to the plains regions just a few km's away. It was funny noticing the difference between my family from the city, and family from the Iftoha mountains in that their mannerisms were quite different. City folks are generally more keen to show off how modern they are, with their internet access and satelite tv's. But unfortunately they have gone soft. They typically can't walk a few blocks without yelling for a mini-cab, and in the market place I once caught my cousin taking a napkin out of his pocket and wiping a speck of dirt off his shoes. He told me never to tell anybody about it. Come on man! Man up!!! lol
The countryside folks on the other hand, are G's. Rough, rugged, and raw. They hike through the mountains for hours just to get to the the main road. Their only access to the market is the old contraband route to Djibouti, through the neighbouring Issa Somali territory. Take the khat, bring the goods and get that paper. But anyways as my cousin was pointing out the families that live on each hill he pointed towards one home and said the 'and that house belongs to the so-and-so family'. I was surprised to hear a family name belonging to the Amhara ethnic group. Without thinking I replied "what are amharas doing here!?". He replied "shhhh, the lady next to you is amhara". This was an amhara family that was adopted into the clan by my grandfather many years ago. Apart from their family name and heritage they couldn't be distinguished from anybody else in the village. They spoke Oromo, many of their family members had become muslims and so on. Despite political tensions between Oromos and Amharas it shows that at the end of the day, people shouldn't be judged by their ethnicity or heritage but by their character. I should also mention that she saved me from a pack of wild dogs that ambushed me. They were her dogs, but still...and don't we look alike lol? Anyways that's the story of the lady I accidentally offended.
So the Gabaa brigade (that's what I call my family) arrived in the remote mountainous Iftoha district in eastern Oromia. The place my family called home for centuries, before largely relocating to the urban areas. I remember looking up at the houses spread out in the mountains and thinking, why did my ancestors choose to settle here of all places? Very rough living conditions compared to the plains regions just a few km's away. It was funny noticing the difference between my family from the city, and family from the Iftoha mountains in that their mannerisms were quite different. City folks are generally more keen to show off how modern they are, with their internet access and satelite tv's. But unfortunately they have gone soft. They typically can't walk a few blocks without yelling for a mini-cab, and in the market place I once caught my cousin taking a napkin out of his pocket and wiping a speck of dirt off his shoes. He told me never to tell anybody about it. Come on man! Man up!!! lol
The countryside folks on the other hand, are G's. Rough, rugged, and raw. They hike through the mountains for hours just to get to the the main road. Their only access to the market is the old contraband route to Djibouti, through the neighbouring Issa Somali territory. Take the khat, bring the goods and get that paper. But anyways as my cousin was pointing out the families that live on each hill he pointed towards one home and said the 'and that house belongs to the so-and-so family'. I was surprised to hear a family name belonging to the Amhara ethnic group. Without thinking I replied "what are amharas doing here!?". He replied "shhhh, the lady next to you is amhara". This was an amhara family that was adopted into the clan by my grandfather many years ago. Apart from their family name and heritage they couldn't be distinguished from anybody else in the village. They spoke Oromo, many of their family members had become muslims and so on. Despite political tensions between Oromos and Amharas it shows that at the end of the day, people shouldn't be judged by their ethnicity or heritage but by their character. I should also mention that she saved me from a pack of wild dogs that ambushed me. They were her dogs, but still...and don't we look alike lol? Anyways that's the story of the lady I accidentally offended.
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