By Major Jackson
“When they came to camp, they asked my friend Abdiif he was ready to join the militia. He said, no.
In the placid lean of an arid summer, in the lingeringsnarl of pit latrines, the sharp barbs of the acacia,in the opaque eyes of the girl whose fingers frenzy
“We always kicked for the same team. We prayednext to each other on the sajjada during salat.