THE CALL

“The time is always right to do what is right,” Martin Luther King.

It was 5.00 a.m. and Abdillahi Youssouf was keen not to miss the morning's magical skies. In his meditation, he reflected on the events and journey that had led to visit one of the greatest Islands in the beloved continent. He has been the longest-serving President in Djibouti. The country was, however, undergoing political tensions during the uprising of the Arab Spring.





He was privileged to gaze at the slothful sea, ebbing so gently, a reflection of peace in its Neptune-blue glory. The pink beach felt soft like he was walking on a blanket of candy floss. Shimmering pink sand swept around in a scythe of the shore, howling in by towering cliffs. Far out of the ocean, rays saturate the surface with a golden gaze. The horizon seemed woven with a line of silver. Abdillahi was in awe of the aura, as it felt like paradise. The calmness of the ocean reminded him how Djibouti was when he first rose to power. He assumed that his visit to Seychelles was calm before the storm.


Abdillahi replaced a regime that had left the state devastated. The morality of unifying the people guided his manifesto, reviving the economic status and handing the power to the people. He considered it a government of the people, by the people and for the people. He reformed the country’s infrastructure, developed foreign policy, and everyone applauded his efforts of restoring unity. During his second term, he saw the amendment of the constitution to allow him to run for the presidency once more. This was a bolt from the blue. This agitated the foes and nationals. The more struggle he experienced while furthering his agenda, the higher authority he had and retaliated against. The country began living its worst nightmare. Civil wars became the order of the day. International watchdogs made a mountain out of a molehill and the situation escalated. Sanctions imposed had a ripple effect, with kleptocratic minting of money. Like wine, the more authority he had, the more desire emanated from within. Indeed, the by-product of leadership is power. The gap between the rich and the poor widened. The civilians lived in sheer desolation, desperation while paralyzed with fear. Despair had set in and they had to hold on to the certainty that was worth seeking the light, even though they had never seen it.


These mounting pressures had forced Byamungu Zongwe to invite Abdullahi and three of his top government officials to his waterfront house in Seychelles. Byamungu Zongwe was the son of Amunazale and Mpata Zongwe, delivered and raised in a family of six as the last born, in the Congo Basin. A territory endowed with abundant resources such as timber, diamonds and petroleum and unique species. His father was a prominent business owner and owned acres of land in East Congo, where activities such as agriculture and mining took place.

Something, unfortunately, cut his dreams short with the breakout of a civil war that saw the country he solely loved shattered. The conflict drew African forces such as Rwandan, Ugandan, Burundian, Angolan, Zimbabwean, Sudanese and Namibia armies to the Congo soils. At five he experienced the highs and lows of life. He saw his father lose every piece of land and possession. He witnessed the brutal atrocities of the war and worst of it witnessed the death of his parents and siblings. He wanted to die, but fate had a different path for him. He knew the images and flashbacks of the unfortunate events would haunt him for the remaining bit of his life, even though he was only five. His efforts to escape would be futile, and his life hung at the mercy of the armies. At five, he had witnessed more brutality than most people expect in their lifetime.

He wandered and toiled in the Sahara region for forty years, trying to create a fortune. He was a child of the light, and his journey to where he belonged led him to rise as the most powerful man on the continent. He owned conglomerates Islands and much more. He was swimming in the mogul pool and commanded respect from all. He was a calm and collected soul that respected humanity, and despite being wealthy; he supported the justice movement across the region. He believed in the richness of his land, had faith in humanity and dreamt that one day Africa would rise. His experiences as a child motivated him to yearn for a peaceful continent, where children can dream and live out their dreams. Countries where citizens can enjoy freedom and contribute fully to the country's affairs. He visualized a space where leaders can resolve conflicts without external interference. He envisioned the ability of wealthy leaders coming together to inspire change, instead of collaborating with kleptocracies.

The siren call of the sea was soothing, the wave rhythm was welcoming. The rising sun laminated the environment with warmth, and the carnival aromas from the hotel kitchen ushered Bymungu, Abdillahi and his officials to the masterclass cottage for a healthy meal. The chefs waited, serving traditional delicacies options that included oat porridge, with boudin, cassava, breadfruit, eggs, fresh fruits, local vanilla tea and Citronelle. They all knew they were in for a treat.

Abdillahi looked flushed out, entangled in his grief, anger and fear. A plain fear so overwhelming and elemental that the only thing he could relate it to was that sense of engulfment he used to experience as a child after being left alone in the dark. That indescribable, monestrous thing was always at his back, never quite touching him, but always ready to attack. He wasn’t sure when the opposers were going to strike and feared for his life. He suspected everyone that stared at him for a long time, “could that be one of them”, he could question himself.

“I’m happy that you honoured my request and showed up”, Byamungu’s voice interrupted Abdillahi’s trail of thought. ‘‘The shadows of the atrocities I witnessed as a child haunt me every day. I know they say that ‘everything in your life reflects choices made. If you want a different result, make a different choice’. However, some of us did not make any choice to endure the magnitude of pain we have. As I was living in camps, I met an Ethiopian immigrant. When the wars became rampant in the country, she tried to escape, to create a life for her unborn child. Unfortunately, the armies caught up with her and brutally raped her and later shot her left leg. Humanitarians saved her from the region. No choice did she deserve such humiliation, but her leaders had a choice, my leaders had a choice as well. Today, Abdillahi, you sympathize with individuals who have gone through the flames in hell, tomorrow it will be your people sharing the tales. Who knows the atrocities they will have faced?

The most ambiguous puzzle is how we fight against our own people. How we let external powers exert immeasurable influence just to benefit from what our motherland has endowed us with. The people entrusted you with the presidency years ago, however; you created your own means and served your own interest. The one thing you intended to change in your regime became your guiding principle.

Today Djibouti is experiencing division and brokenness. Tomorrow all media houses will cover genocide news. Is this the legacy you’d wish the future generation to read about you? Remember, they will remember us for what we destroyed rather than what we created. One fundamental leader within the region stood his ground, stern that he would lead his country in defending the country's resources. He saw the impossibility of reliving his ancestors' experience. This is the zeal we need. Your life changes the moment you make a new congruent and committed decision. In front of me sit African heroes and heroines with an opportunity of handing over the power to people. The pressure within your country is mounting and sprouting. An imminent solution is imperative,” Byamungu paused as looked deep into Abdillahi brown eyes.

Abdillahi was shaking, and he was a tear away. “There are still many causes worth sacrificing for and so much history to be made. The calmness and peacefulness of this place have graced me, with sleepless nights. Black history is a rich history that we have conspired in destroying, there is almost nothing to learn from people like me. My intentions always gravitated towards transformation, which I achieved and have been destroying as the days go by. My heart is heavy and today I want to rewrite the story,” he said as he pulled out his phone.

His government spokesperson was on speed dial. “Oumalkaire Ismael,” he said. “Listen carefully. Today I have done the unthinkable. My decision is personal and not affiliated with my party. I need you to call the press and deliver this message, for me. Today, I Abdillahi Youssouf, step down as the president of the Djibouti Republic. In the passion and desire for a safe space for all from my fore brothers and sisters, Martin Luther King Jr., Marcus Garvey and all the predecessors. I hand over the power to the rightful sole owners, the people. It is time for the sun to shine over a new bloom. This is the light at the end of the tunnel,” he concluded as he ended the call before the spokesperson could respond.

Courage takes one to stand up and speak. Courage takes one to sit and listen- Winston Churchill - thought Byamungu as they all gazed at Abdillahi blankly. A sigh of relief beamed off his face. He smiled at them and said, “This was the Call. I should have done this a long time ago”. -THE CALL!- they shouted harmoniously.