Burad Badeed (sea bandit)

Dear Sea Bandits, burad badeed in Somali.

We are gathered here today to discuss our plans, options and future. Our ancestors, the great, magnificent, wise, and amazing visionaries were blessed with the ability to see and write the future.

They came from the vast deep interior. Wind swept dunes on shifting grains of sand. Time and water and boredom was their destiny. Their vision extended past mud, water, sand, gravel and volcanic sediment. They reached the churning violent sea of foaming blue. They fished. They repaired nets and roasted camel meat on open fires brimming with stars.

Sea became home. They worshiped currents.

Then, one day, large space ships invaded their coastal domain names, tribal connections, village dialects, identities, and simple way of life. The space ships plundered deep long and wide, cutting a swath of exploratory hatcheries.

Tuna, blue marlin, sharks, sardines, turtles, goldfish, squid, salmon, trout, octopus, sea snails, whales, manta rays and millions of minnows named Nemo departed their aqualung existence destined for plates and bowls of greedy capitalistic eaters. 

Our children, wives, and families went hungry. They ate desert dust and deserted dreams. 

Our council elders gathered. "We have lost of way of life. We are suffering. We need new delicious decisions and directions."

"Yes," agreed the young and restless. "Let's take to the high seas and become pirates and bandits and heroes. We will save the human race from extinction, from the space ships. We will intercept and board foreign vessels. We will hold the crew and cargo hostage. We will demand huge sums of cash."

"Cash is King! Long live the King!"

They sailed forth on their quest for adventure and booty led by Captain Hook and his merry band of pranksters.

"Ahoy mates and a bottle of rum, ho-ho heave ho here we go." They sailed into eternity's sunset.

Metta.