Maro-Dahenjo
19-01-2007, 01:35
DJIBOUTI
1100 HOURS
JANUARY 18
The city had been quiet for some time. That was a very good thing. The fighting had died a few years ago. Things weren't getting better, though at least people did not die, as much. People killing other people. That seemed to be the ever present reality in Africa. The nation had become a hub of travel in the ighly unstable region, and not just legal. Soldiers for causes of freedom or tyranny passed easily through the porous borders, through the remotes provinces of the small nation on the Horn. Despite this, it was a small example of stability in a region that had none to spare. Just a little jewel where people were not shot to pieces for the machinations of warlords.
That was how it had been for so very long. So very long in the eyes of its people. But things were not getting better because order. They were only getting worse. Jabuuti, Djibouti, whatever name you called it by, could not survive except by the fingers that strangled the necks of its workers day in and day out. Half its people had no profession or way of supporting themselves. The government could not support any form of infrastructure beyond a well, the squalor of the cities seems to be another consequence of "Third World" developing nations. It's one of hundreds, and while foreign money is being invested, where does it go? There has been no improvement. And the debt only increases.
Laying back in the leather seat the man gave an exasperated sigh, moving his hands down the sides of his burned cheeks as he rubbed at his chin, before adjusting his wide grinned glasses and turning to the other man who sat beside him in the open top Jeep, before speaking in low toned Arabic. "And what do you have to say brother? Water can't even be given to our own families, and we were educated by the West! You think God will save us from the misery of our African condition?" He gave a small smirk to the last statement.
"You think too hard, Mutee, and that is why one day you will speak too much and they will have your head. There is a reason no one opposes the president, people don't care! Your boycotts served to do nothing but let the apathetic win, and that is what they do. You bring these, theories, but people only understand God and their current situation.." He was interrupted as Mutee put his hand on his partner's shoulder with a wide smile. "Stop, stop, that's enough. Words are done with. And people will realize soon enough, after-" "And after what Mutee? Revolution? You wait for it, and the people still live in fear. Maro and Dahenjo. So, what will it be Mutee?"
The revolutionary just laughed openly and sat back in the chair, watching a child walk into the abandoned lot, kicking the ball made of wrapped string up and then hitting his forehead against it, passing it to his friends. "We will see soon enough. I believe in peace, Ibrahim, and I'm willing to wait and see.." Peace would be good, even though they could not have water or feed their families, peace was good.
But things still aren't getting better.
Even the two, who were nearly a mile away when it happened, could hear the explosion. The smoke plume up in the sky. There were shouts, even here, and the sounds of muted sirens blaring up. Mutee's smile faded and he turned to Ibrahim. Taking his brother with a hand he gripped it. "But now we have not even that. It's time to make peace." The jeep started up with a groan and sped off. There was going to be war once again.
It's the African condition.
AS ELA, DJIBOUTI
DIKHIL REGION
2143 HOURS
JANUARY 17
He leaned over, the bearded whiskers touching the soft skin of the little girl as she giggled a bit. It was quite exciting to be up this late, although she had been somewhat confused by the sudden announcement, closing her eyes as her father kissed her forehead and stood up, turning to the scarfed woman, her mother who looked at the older bearded man with a frown. "This is what you do to our family? We fought longer th-" But the father only smiled a simple, almost enlightened curve of his lips. "Please have faith, wife, in that you will be protected by God even as I leave this household for now. He watches over, doesn't he?" He grinned as the little girl nodded enthusiastically and he turned away.
The daughter clung to her father a bit more affectionately than she had usually. He seemed so distant until now, perhaps she just thought she should enjoy the moment while it lasted. He never showed affection himself, not like this, so she had got as much as she could in that small time. But as he began to slow down, she was pulled away by her unhappy mother who stared at the father, as if she knew something the daughter did not. Which only put the girl in an even more confused state as the mother spoke in the shrill Arabic suddenly with more anger in her voice. "You speak that you love God, but you put everything before family, even these stupid politics! Promise me you will return!"
The man had stopped. He looked up in the sky. He had seen the ribs of his daughter. He had seen his wife waste away just to feed the little one a single scrap. He himself watched as the last of their sheep were torn apart by the wild dogs. There was no more herd. There was nothing more to gain or to subsist off of. And only God remained to the man. And he knew that God had a mission for him, one that would be short, and he knew that by this one action he could bring a change to this nation, perhaps even their continent. Just one action. Just one life. Grinning a yellowed toothed grin as he turned back to face his wife with a wave, he continued walking.
"I go with the love of God. Allah ackbar! And by His Grace we shall see each other again!" The wife shrieked with sorrow as she clutched her child, leaving the girl dumbfounded. "Why are you crying mother...?" There was no answer as the older woman sobbed into the child's neck. The daughter simply clutched the grieving mother as the figure of their father disappeared into the night and brush. It would be a long travel to take by foot, but there were roads he knew to take. It was his pilgrimage. He had cursed himself for never making it to Mecca in his life on this earth, but perhaps he would service God in this way. The ultimate sacrifice.
Allah ackbar.
_________________________________________________
President of Djibouti killed in suicide bombing; civil war ensues as ethnic violence begins in southern regions.
A relatively stable in the Horn of Africa becomes immediately dangerous as Muslim bomber destroys capitol building.
Cairo, Egypt - Today it was reported that a massive explosion occured at the capitol building the capital of Djibouti where President Guelleh was currently having talks with the Prime Minister of the nation's parliament. There were reported fifteen dead - including the Prime Minister and Guelleh - as well as over fifty injured. Allegations have been raised that Muslim extremists from within the nation were responsible, although no organization has claimed responsibility. Authorities say that there were multiple explosions which may mean that the suicide bombings that allegedly occured were undertaken by more than one person.
The allegations that have arisen within the population of Djibouti have blamed the ethnic minority population of the Dahenjo, which are, like most of the nation, primarily Sunni Muslim. The Dahenjo comprise about thirty-five percent of the entire population of Djibouti, and are descended from Ethiopian tribes. The primary population is the Maro clan of Somalian ethnics. The Maro claim that the Dahenjo were responsible for the attack on the primarily Maro government. The Dahenjo primarily live in the remote regions where porous borders allow many insurgent elements from Somalia, Ethiopia and Eritrea to enter freely.
Sparking conflicts and tension that has lasted since a decade long civil war that was ended in 2001, violence has broken out in isolated incidents immediately after the announcement of the President's death. Radical Maro elements are calling for a crack down on the Dahenjo population. The Prime Minister however was known to be Dahenjo himself, and much of the government still in power opposes this sort of crackdown. The now-independent military has begun to diverge from the government in a dangerous precedent, leading some to believe that they are moving to a coup. The current commander-in-chief, General Yacin Yabeh Galeb, has denied any attempt at a coup d'etat.
A small minority European population, mostly Italian and French expatriates, has also come under violence recently leading to alarm in some western European nations. The random surges of ciolence within the urban areas where the Maro population dominates has lead for a near full evacuation of tourists, although there has been no official word from any of the nations currently.
[OOC; Hello, everyone, and this is my first post. I used to RP as Dahenjo-Maro, but because of a lost password I'm going to use this new nation and mix up the story a little bit. I'm looking for just about any sort of RPers here, whether it be condemnation, peacekeepers, arms dealers, insurgents, terrorists, and anything in between. None of the rebel groups have so far officially formed, but soon enough the different factions will become apparent.]
1100 HOURS
JANUARY 18
The city had been quiet for some time. That was a very good thing. The fighting had died a few years ago. Things weren't getting better, though at least people did not die, as much. People killing other people. That seemed to be the ever present reality in Africa. The nation had become a hub of travel in the ighly unstable region, and not just legal. Soldiers for causes of freedom or tyranny passed easily through the porous borders, through the remotes provinces of the small nation on the Horn. Despite this, it was a small example of stability in a region that had none to spare. Just a little jewel where people were not shot to pieces for the machinations of warlords.
That was how it had been for so very long. So very long in the eyes of its people. But things were not getting better because order. They were only getting worse. Jabuuti, Djibouti, whatever name you called it by, could not survive except by the fingers that strangled the necks of its workers day in and day out. Half its people had no profession or way of supporting themselves. The government could not support any form of infrastructure beyond a well, the squalor of the cities seems to be another consequence of "Third World" developing nations. It's one of hundreds, and while foreign money is being invested, where does it go? There has been no improvement. And the debt only increases.
Laying back in the leather seat the man gave an exasperated sigh, moving his hands down the sides of his burned cheeks as he rubbed at his chin, before adjusting his wide grinned glasses and turning to the other man who sat beside him in the open top Jeep, before speaking in low toned Arabic. "And what do you have to say brother? Water can't even be given to our own families, and we were educated by the West! You think God will save us from the misery of our African condition?" He gave a small smirk to the last statement.
"You think too hard, Mutee, and that is why one day you will speak too much and they will have your head. There is a reason no one opposes the president, people don't care! Your boycotts served to do nothing but let the apathetic win, and that is what they do. You bring these, theories, but people only understand God and their current situation.." He was interrupted as Mutee put his hand on his partner's shoulder with a wide smile. "Stop, stop, that's enough. Words are done with. And people will realize soon enough, after-" "And after what Mutee? Revolution? You wait for it, and the people still live in fear. Maro and Dahenjo. So, what will it be Mutee?"
The revolutionary just laughed openly and sat back in the chair, watching a child walk into the abandoned lot, kicking the ball made of wrapped string up and then hitting his forehead against it, passing it to his friends. "We will see soon enough. I believe in peace, Ibrahim, and I'm willing to wait and see.." Peace would be good, even though they could not have water or feed their families, peace was good.
But things still aren't getting better.
Even the two, who were nearly a mile away when it happened, could hear the explosion. The smoke plume up in the sky. There were shouts, even here, and the sounds of muted sirens blaring up. Mutee's smile faded and he turned to Ibrahim. Taking his brother with a hand he gripped it. "But now we have not even that. It's time to make peace." The jeep started up with a groan and sped off. There was going to be war once again.
It's the African condition.
AS ELA, DJIBOUTI
DIKHIL REGION
2143 HOURS
JANUARY 17
He leaned over, the bearded whiskers touching the soft skin of the little girl as she giggled a bit. It was quite exciting to be up this late, although she had been somewhat confused by the sudden announcement, closing her eyes as her father kissed her forehead and stood up, turning to the scarfed woman, her mother who looked at the older bearded man with a frown. "This is what you do to our family? We fought longer th-" But the father only smiled a simple, almost enlightened curve of his lips. "Please have faith, wife, in that you will be protected by God even as I leave this household for now. He watches over, doesn't he?" He grinned as the little girl nodded enthusiastically and he turned away.
The daughter clung to her father a bit more affectionately than she had usually. He seemed so distant until now, perhaps she just thought she should enjoy the moment while it lasted. He never showed affection himself, not like this, so she had got as much as she could in that small time. But as he began to slow down, she was pulled away by her unhappy mother who stared at the father, as if she knew something the daughter did not. Which only put the girl in an even more confused state as the mother spoke in the shrill Arabic suddenly with more anger in her voice. "You speak that you love God, but you put everything before family, even these stupid politics! Promise me you will return!"
The man had stopped. He looked up in the sky. He had seen the ribs of his daughter. He had seen his wife waste away just to feed the little one a single scrap. He himself watched as the last of their sheep were torn apart by the wild dogs. There was no more herd. There was nothing more to gain or to subsist off of. And only God remained to the man. And he knew that God had a mission for him, one that would be short, and he knew that by this one action he could bring a change to this nation, perhaps even their continent. Just one action. Just one life. Grinning a yellowed toothed grin as he turned back to face his wife with a wave, he continued walking.
"I go with the love of God. Allah ackbar! And by His Grace we shall see each other again!" The wife shrieked with sorrow as she clutched her child, leaving the girl dumbfounded. "Why are you crying mother...?" There was no answer as the older woman sobbed into the child's neck. The daughter simply clutched the grieving mother as the figure of their father disappeared into the night and brush. It would be a long travel to take by foot, but there were roads he knew to take. It was his pilgrimage. He had cursed himself for never making it to Mecca in his life on this earth, but perhaps he would service God in this way. The ultimate sacrifice.
Allah ackbar.
_________________________________________________
President of Djibouti killed in suicide bombing; civil war ensues as ethnic violence begins in southern regions.
A relatively stable in the Horn of Africa becomes immediately dangerous as Muslim bomber destroys capitol building.
Cairo, Egypt - Today it was reported that a massive explosion occured at the capitol building the capital of Djibouti where President Guelleh was currently having talks with the Prime Minister of the nation's parliament. There were reported fifteen dead - including the Prime Minister and Guelleh - as well as over fifty injured. Allegations have been raised that Muslim extremists from within the nation were responsible, although no organization has claimed responsibility. Authorities say that there were multiple explosions which may mean that the suicide bombings that allegedly occured were undertaken by more than one person.
The allegations that have arisen within the population of Djibouti have blamed the ethnic minority population of the Dahenjo, which are, like most of the nation, primarily Sunni Muslim. The Dahenjo comprise about thirty-five percent of the entire population of Djibouti, and are descended from Ethiopian tribes. The primary population is the Maro clan of Somalian ethnics. The Maro claim that the Dahenjo were responsible for the attack on the primarily Maro government. The Dahenjo primarily live in the remote regions where porous borders allow many insurgent elements from Somalia, Ethiopia and Eritrea to enter freely.
Sparking conflicts and tension that has lasted since a decade long civil war that was ended in 2001, violence has broken out in isolated incidents immediately after the announcement of the President's death. Radical Maro elements are calling for a crack down on the Dahenjo population. The Prime Minister however was known to be Dahenjo himself, and much of the government still in power opposes this sort of crackdown. The now-independent military has begun to diverge from the government in a dangerous precedent, leading some to believe that they are moving to a coup. The current commander-in-chief, General Yacin Yabeh Galeb, has denied any attempt at a coup d'etat.
A small minority European population, mostly Italian and French expatriates, has also come under violence recently leading to alarm in some western European nations. The random surges of ciolence within the urban areas where the Maro population dominates has lead for a near full evacuation of tourists, although there has been no official word from any of the nations currently.
[OOC; Hello, everyone, and this is my first post. I used to RP as Dahenjo-Maro, but because of a lost password I'm going to use this new nation and mix up the story a little bit. I'm looking for just about any sort of RPers here, whether it be condemnation, peacekeepers, arms dealers, insurgents, terrorists, and anything in between. None of the rebel groups have so far officially formed, but soon enough the different factions will become apparent.]