Writing this blog required a frank inner dialogue and an honest self reflection, which led me to dig deep. Deep enough to hear the whispers of unspoken dreams. Deep enough to see the silhouettes of forgotten and forbidden dreams.
I am a big dreamer. I dream almost every night. In fact next to my bed lies a note book where I record all my vivid dreams that jolt me out of my sleep. My dreams and desires have changed over the years depending on my age, my country of residence and my circumstances.
When I was a kid, I loved entertaining my family, my neighbours and my friends. In fact my cousin and I used to act out scenes from our favourite Bollywood movies. That’s right, Bollywood!
Believe or not, Indian cinema was huge in the Somali regions in the 80s. People really resonated with the themes in Bollywood movies at that time. The films were not dubbed (yet), so we quickly picked up enough of the language to help us navigate the plots. My older sister’s love interest (now my brother in law), who lived in India for many years became our in-house translator. Bless him, he was so patient with us.
I have such fond memories of my cousin and I butchering the Hindi lyrics but always nailing the dance moves. And although I didn’t fully understand what I was singing, this never stopped me because music is a language that transcends boundaries such as geographical and cultural barriers. Plus, I quickly grasped a few words such as ‘pyar’ which means love.
I was such an entertainer and loved acting so when I was offered the opportunity to be a cast member of a play at a local theatre, I jumped at it. I was casted as a clueless mother, who put her youngest son’s trousers on the wrong way and then took him to the doctor when he found it difficult to walk. The play was very well received and it was funny because I was a child actor depicting the role of a dense adult. This is a memory I will always cherish. I was living my dream.
Then on Tuesday 23rd of January 1990, at the age of 11 years and 3 months, I had to leave everything behind. Maybe not everything because I still had my hopes and dreams.
I distinctly remember that day: our flight, the butterflies in my stomach, stepping out of Heathrow airport and into my new reality. It was a cold January morning and I remember seeing my breath for the first time.This was my new normal and it was far removed from the 29 degrees sunshine.
The first few years was all about settling in. Our daily lives consisted of our struggle to find our place and adjust to our new identities or labels as the new immigrants, the asylum seekers.
But we rolled with the punches and learnt to navigate the less than perfect policies and systems that were meant to help us. We did the best we could. In fact my parents did an amazing job. I hope they know they raised strong individuals who despite their flaws and challenges found their purpose and a way to contribute to society and their community. I hope we have accomplished their hopes and dreams for us. I realise that the older my parents get, the more their hopes and prayers shift towards ensuring that my siblings and I continue to honour our kinship and strengthen our bonds. They dream that their offspring will continue to elevate the village and remember the importance of the kinship. This has now become our dream not only for each other as siblings but for our children and their children’s children.
So not surprisingly, my dreams took a back seat in my first year (in the UK) as I focused on survival. I dreamt about belonging and finding my place in my new home where the air, the food and people felt strange. But luckily for me, in Year 8, I found out that drama like music transcends language and cultural barriers. My drama teacher recognised my passion and potential, so she encouraged me to get involved.
Disadvantaged by my lack of command of the English language, I began by helping out backstage and prepared the set for our yearly school shows. I was soon promoted to managing backstage which included all costume and prop changes. I was in my element and I loved it! As a trilingual, I translated all the key terms and instructions. French was the most accessible language to help steer my new awakening of my dreams to be an actress. Needless to say, I chose drama for GCSEs and I thrived in that class. I remember how nervous I felt on our final performance in Year 11, it was such a big deal, we invited all our families and friends. It was the biggest audience I performed in front of since my debut in Djibouti. It was exhilarating, we were so proud of ourselves and our family and friends showered us with so much love and applause.
After the initial celebration, my friend and I were approached by two talent agents. We were so excited, I thought that’s it, I made it! You have to understand this was the era of teenage British drama series such as Byker Grove and Grange Hill and there was no one who looked like me on TV, so I liked my chances of fulfilling my dream of becoming an actress. But I was not the only one with a dream for Baar.
I quickly found out my dreams and desires were at odds with my immigrant mother’s dreams for me.
My mum is my ultimate shero, she is a matriarch who fought for her kids to be safe, to survive and thrive despite all the challenges and obstacles we faced. But like many other immigrant mothers she had a list of respectable professions she expected her children to pursue and acting was not one of them. I remember her response that night, her exact words were “I did not bring you to this country so that I can watch you kiss a white boy on tv”. Heartbroken and frustrated, I pleaded with my mum to sign the permission slip and let me follow my dreams.
And when that didn’t happen, I sulked for days and gave my mum the silent treatment which made absolutely no difference.
At sixteen, I didn’t understand my mum’s decision, I couldn’t comprehend her concerns about her child entering an industry which can be volatile and how paralysing her thoughts that she couldn’t protect or support me were. I also couldn’t see how my cultural and religious values clashed with many practices in the entertainment industry. But now that I am a parent, I can appreciate my mother’s decision. We are our children’s protectors and in my mum’s case, she was already trying her best to remove the barriers that disadvantaged us, trying to acquire the language and survive as a single mother at that time. For eight years my mother had to handle it all on her own because my dad couldn’t join us. Hence, why I can now understand the reasons my mum couldn’t see beyond the safe perimeters and safer professions she envisioned for me.
Do I think about what could have been? Yes, I used to think about it a lot, especially whenever I saw myself in an actress or a character. But I believe GOD had other plans for me and I am grateful for the blessings he bestowed upon me.
Would I have made the same decision as my mum? Probably not. I believe as parents we often forget that our children are little human beings we are entrusted with. Our hopes and dreams do not trump theirs. Our guidance can often be driven by our fears and worries, this in turn can instill that same sense of fear in our children. So we must be guarded against making decisions from a place of fear otherwise we really do risk raising indecisive human beings, who might miss out on the blessings of being uncomfortable because they fear the outcome of their decision making.
Imagine if all children are raised in a world where their parents encourage them to take risks, to try new things and to see failure as success. We’d have generations of dreamers with unlimited imagination and who have the confidence to ‘feel the fear and do it anyway’.
I want to live in that world.
Earlier on I said that my dreams and desires changed with age. Well, forty five years old Baar dreams to continue the legacy of her female lineage by ensuring that her children have a better quality of life than she did.
My -parental- dreams; to raise compassionate, confident and socially conscious young people, who are fully equipped to lead a purposeful and content lives; to recreate the generational wealth that was stolen by war and migration in order for our children to have the helping hand they may need to excel and fulfill their dreams.
My- professional- dreams; to continue growing as a leader and to contribute to the collective voice that advocates for the directional change which is fundamental to educational equity; to be an agent of change and build a boarding school for girl in Somaliland, a country where girls are still not afforded their right to education; to further the mission of diverse representation in education and to use my voice to shine a light on the invisible members of our communities.
My -personal- dreams: to lead a life of purpose and gratitude, to find meaning in life’s roller coaster, to celebrate another twenty four of a blessed marriage filled with love, friendship, compassion and triumph over testing times; to celebrate and strengthen kinships as well as friendships; to live a fuller life that is governed by openness, love, faith and intellectual curiosity.
I believe my ancestors need me to dream. I believe my soul yearns for me to dream and my legacy demands it.
So I’ll continue to dream and take the steps necessary to accomplish my new dreams and desires as well as revisiting undone dreams and deferred desires. I want to continue being a dreamer with unlimited imagination have the confidence to ‘feel the fear and do it anyway’.
Sheekadayda 