In my young days, my hometown was not a large town but actually had the charms of being a great town. Growing up  in a small town always posses an aura of endearments and distinctive appeal. Nostalgia and regrettable longing is usually developed that haunts you later in life with the compelling desire to see again the symbolic features, the striking landmarks or your old neighborhood where you grow up and gathered sentimental memories. In the north-west of my hometown, there was a magnificent park simply known as the “Seire”. This park was an attractive land feature that I believe, must be engraved in the memories of  my generations and those before them. For the local folks, the park was a sign of pride and endeared natural beauty.

This park was a large land tract in a vast dry river bed of fertile clay. Early in the spring, at start of rainy season, the rain water from the mountains would roll down to the park. A sluggish muddied water would snake slowly through the park, as if it was breathing the breath of life into the park. A transformation from winter withers to the splendid blooms of the summer was to come. The park was luxuriantly rich in vegetation, charmingly wooded with a trees of many varieties. It’s unblemished natural beauty was evidently visible and attractive when the lote-trees, the colocynths, the flat-topped acacias, the lively creeping plants, the tall graceful grasses and the colorful flowers all bloomed.

The numerous ponds would soon get filled with the rain water, manifesting the lives of the small creatures it supported. In short time, frogs, snakes, squirrels, tortoise, hares, colorful butterflies and other small animals would appear. Overwhelmed by childish curiosity, I and my friends enjoyed watching  this nature’s changing pattern. What excited us most was the awesome , display of fireflies and the magnificent colors of the butterflies. The variety of the birds in the park was simply amazing. Occasionally, our cheerful shouts and calls would mingle harmoniously with the chirping, twittering and chattering of these admirable flight creatures.

Late in the summer, we occasionally  snacked with relish the seasonal  fruits of the lote-trees, wild berries and other endemic edible seeds. The park provided us the ultimate amusement with the comfort and safety found in the bosom of mother nature. We would play merrily around the trees, roll over the grasses, swing from branch to branch, jump over the stunted shrubs and hugely enjoyed it with childish gusto. The shaded winding tracks in the forest were our streets, the seasonal ponds were our swimming pools (one famous pond in this park was known as “qoriilay” literally ’the wooded’) and the tall grasses were our corners for hide and seek. We were the kings of this jungle, free to move, play and entertain ourselves without bothering anybody. In contrast today’s unfortunate situation, where the kids are depraved of playgrounds, nobody yelled angrily to us from a window demanding to end street soccer playing or hopscotch game, nor uncaring tradesperson would shoo us away from his vicinity. The park saved us  from this kind of maltreatment.

As we grow up and matured, our habitual usage changed,  but the park would still accommodate our grown-up attitude. We would stroll leisurely through the park or relax under the soothing coolness of the shades ,  enjoying the serenity and the natural beauty of the park.

The park was mainly composed of two parts. The larger section was a dense forest and the other part was open grassland formerly used as landing airstrip for small aircrafts during the colonial era. This physical contrast was advantageous, as the latter part served the community for various functions, like sport activities and social events. The open land with the exuberant tall grass was ideal for leisure strolling and viewing the nature’s beauty. On the holy ‘Eid’ festivals, the park was a suitable place for the town’s young maidens to stroll and enjoy the scenery. We usually watched them from a distance, beautifully cladded and moving gracefully like a princesses holding the hands of their younger siblings. Though shyness would persuade them not cross paths with boys, we all shared the festive mood at the distance.

During the corrupted regime of Siyad Barre, some high ranking officers were awarded with land plots for farming and housing on the edges of the park. This encroachment of the park was, sadly, the beginning of it’s destruction. Subsequent moves to grab more land plots resulted the unfortunate onslaught of this precious park. Many of the local folks dared to protest, but sadly some joined the land grabbing while others opted to remain indifferent. It was evident that the public responsibility flickered and the solid virtues of the old school dwindled under the shameful culture of government corruption.

In the good old days, the Forestry Department controlled and guarded the park to avoid overgrazing and damages, while the town’s public jealously guarded with a pride. The Forestry Department was located on the south-east of the park. When I visited recently after long time, the sight I saw was pitiful, as the nursery gardens and the towering eucalyptus trees have all vanished. A small depleted office building is all that remains, presently fit to stand  as monument for ignorance and sheer greediness.

My hometown, Borama, lost it’s sparkling jewel and has grown larger but to the uglier limit of being bloated in size. Some other Somaliland cities had similar parks, but this one in Borama, was naturally fashioned into being a lovely city park. Parks within the vicinity of a city, provides a good opportunity where the city’s children can learn a lot about nature’s amazing things. It’s an immense treasure where they can collect a fruitful basic knowledge in exploring nature. Parks also provide ample amusements as well healthier grounds for playing.

It’s befitting, if I launch an appeal to all Awdalite Diaspora, who should be endowed with a sense of belonging, to all Somalilanders  who care environmental protection, to Borama Municipality and to International Environmental Agencies ( especially the United Nations Environment programme) that help environmental protection pool efforts in the endeavour of trying to claim back at least  parts of the park.

To retrieve parts of this park, is definitely an uphill struggle and a challenge that will test any determination and commitment undertaken. A small portion was claimed back years ago, which is now fenced and abounding with vegetation. This is very encouraging step.

If Somaliland desires to have their cities and towns prevail, the government must strongly and honestly safeguard the rules that urban living and settlements require for healthier environment.

This park was not one of the wonders of the world nor Jurassic Park, but simply a priceless piece of land filled with nature’s beauty that time and wisdom protected it from human follies.

Abdillahi Omar qaadi

Borama, Somaliland

Email: aoshnuur@gmail.com