Like many other Somalis, music has always played a big influence in my life. Whether it has been a backdrop for joy, sorrow, celebration or even just a distraction from quiet, I have enjoyed its nuanced complexities, its simplicity, its ability to convey emotion and conjure different feelings within myself, friends and family. The tradition of music dates back to the earliest civilizations, when individuals first discovered how to organize sound. It is one of the most natural instincts of a human to collect melodies and create rhythms, and of listeners to dance, clap or sing along.
In another attack on the basic human right to freedom of expression, Hizbul Islam, one of two main insurgent forces that have invaded and in many ways forcibly taken control of Somalia’s social and cultural infrastructures, ordered local radio stations in the capital city of Mogadishu to comply with a ban on music within ten days or be shut down. A week has gone by since the April 13th deadline and the majority of stations have complied, fearing further bullying from Hizbul, which they acknowledge might include violence and even death. Now, not even a jingle is heard on the airwaves, and to replace sounds that would once introduce programs, many have chosen sounds of war—recordings from conflict areas that accurately reflect the state of the nation and the ongoing, resulting travesties being forced upon the society as a whole.
Meanwhile, miles north in the town of Jowhar, Al Shebab has ordered school principals to cease using bells to mark the end of class sessions due to the similarity in sound to church bells. In both cases, the insurgents have overstepped into areas of society that deal with expression, tradition and culture, and continue to alienate the citizens from engaging in everyday life. While teachers have tried banging on doors to signal the end of class, radio broadcasters have used roosters crowing, horses galloping, engines roaring, and guns blasting in the place of musical interludes or introductions. But I question how long even this will last. It seems that at this time, the limits are narrowing, along with a volatile and abusive interpretation of which aspects of our lives–things we’ve always taken for granted as intrinsic to being human–are anti-Islamic.
In the world of bullies, there is no logic, and in this new environment where the sounds of firing guns are more appropriate than the sounds of violins or bells, I find no reason or sense. What we’re beginning to lose is our culture and our ability to participate in life, instead of dream of it from inside locked jail cells where all we have is what we’re permitted, which isn’t really anything.
