Bashir Ahmed Warsame: A Gift To Be Cherished‎‎

By Ahmed Abib Hayir, Amud University , Borama

I was still attending Amoud University last year. This time in the Sophomore Class, I was already 21 of age- an age my existence and my fate were always open to questions. I was always in a disturbed state of mind. At times, I was full of optimism for the future. I formed a mental picture of myself ever successful in studies. I then visualized the highly paid job I would do, the social status I would earn and the improved standard of life I would lead. I was thrilled by an exquisite joy at this thought and wondered if it were to be now or then. Some other times, however, when my mind would open a window to my potential failures in life, I was full of pessimism for the future. I pictured myself as lost and unable to study. I then measured whether I could stand the immediate consequence. This time I was overwhelmed by feelings of complete and utter despair when I foresaw that I would lead an imperfect and socially incompatible life.

As a university student in his early twenties, I was often more worried rather than staying happy with life. The reason is still a mystery! Can you guess? It was all that I had reached an age when life was no longer having the pleasure it retained for me once. My brain would race down a memory lane of my happy childhood, when all my needs were guaranteed. This time, fed and clothed, I always enjoyed the life with my friends and everything seemed working out the right way for me. Incomparably, however, at an older age, I felt I got entangled at the dark threads of worries and despair that are woven in the fabrics of life.

Last year, when the first semester of my sophomore class started, I was feeling as fresh as daisy after my summer holidays. I therefore had a real sense of commitment to my studies. The year prior to this, as a freshman, had passed me with regret. What had always been the core of my decisions was to make sure major breakthrough in my studies this year. I was always planning to study hard but I carried out none or less than my expectations. My regular failures had always been constant headache to my life. And what less I achieved would always turn out to be seed sown on a rocky soil. I would then put a knife on whatever held my plan together and would destroy any looming hope to succeed. I denied myself of any chance to study. I slept longer that morning, or I spent watching TV that evening or went out with friends, or …..? If only I had saved these times. If only I had studied. I hated myself and my sorrow gave way to despair. However, after a while, I would attribute my failures to destiny and would come down to the sole fact that I was unaware what the fate stored for me, had I? This would matter a lot to be a source of an excuse and consolation. I would then map out my second plan for studies, which itself was always bound to fail. In this ways, my dream to lay a solid foundation for my world of studies had gone mad this year as a freshman in the university.

When I started the sophomore last year, it seemed certain that I would get over my inability to let my promises turn into action. And fortunately enough, had it not been Bashir Ahmed Warsame- my teacher- whom I saw my shallow life in the reflection of his personality, nothing would have been the number. Bashir, a man of action is our teacher of both “Introduction to Business” and “Financial Accounting” courses.

It was a rainy Saturday morning that I had to attend the first class of the “Introduction to Business” course whose lecturer was/is Bashir. I was still on bed when the rain was falling scattered in thin light showers. It had been pouring all night long. This time, water drops falling less noisily on the roof implied that the rain was beginning to ease. The last raindrops were still falling, when I got out of the warm bed I had been riding all night to prepare myself for the university. There outdoor, a light breeze carrying a whiff of wet air caressed my face dismissing the sleepy sense I still retained after I has just woken up from a sound night’s sleep. The outside mist blocked the view of the mountains. Halfway eating my breakfast, the sun breaking through the thick clouds spread its warmth over the earth. Fresh and neat in my best clothes, I hurried and caught the first bus to Amoud University campus. The crowded buses were running up and down hills all the way to the campus, while the sun glaring down from the clear sky was glinting on trees and postures. The instant fresh air and the delicate fragrance of the flowers smelled. It was then we went into classrooms.

I have already taken my seat in the middle of the front row. Bashir, the lecturer, is pacing slowly across the class in front of the students. He seems a good-natured man in his late fifties. He is tall and straight the whole length of his body. He is light in complexion and by nature lively with bright eyes. Thick and bushy haired, he has also grown full beard. Despite his weak and emaciated body, he seems to have an inner strength. He is wearing the same formal dress I saw him wearing the other day; a straight cotton trouser and a white long-sleeved shirt.

“This is the first class to start “Introduction to Business” as a course”. he says steadying his voice and picking his words with great care. “Keep your ears alert for the explanation and express assertively your words in an answer to my questions”, he adds narrowing his eyes. The students listening to him silently, all seem to have voiced their agreement.

He explains what the course is about. His attention fully held he misses no detail. He examines the students’ attentive reaction by looking them in the eyes. If any student gestures disapproval, he gives further explanation, thoughtful in real alarm, he is always interested in whatever motive that can make up misunderstanding. He brings illustrative example to make the comprehension of the students much stronger. For long remembrance, he gives special emphasis to any important point. Enjoying the invited ears, his voice is double in strength and thrown back on all sides in the class.

For a short break, he writes notes for easy reference of the important points. He reads screwing his eyes in an effort to see but gives up in vain. He puts on his eye glasses to read the same line again. “I can’t see beyond my nose with naked eyes” he jokes about his age and the students laugh their heads off. Still on his feet, he ends the explanation and calls for any question. I ask him a question. He signals his love and pride for me and tells the students about my question’s importance. Now, he is in the mood to please me answering the question in detail. Exhaustion had turned his face delicate and his voice is already growing faint. Going through the class, he wants nothing of his student’s need to ever escape his notice. Just before the session is over, he assigns some home tasks.

The class is over, the teacher has just left. Tired and less energetic, I am coming outside. The fresh air passing across my face seems comfortable. The green-leaved acacia trees in front of the campus building impress my eyes. Bashir walks along the long corridor in front of the classes. He is escorted by a number of students. His voice growing faint in the distance, he is still talking. Interested in his impressive words, I am walking down the stairs after him, keyed to one of the important points of the lecture, he is providing example. He sits under an acacia tree we are all sitting around. He examines the moisturized soil under the tree. This reminds him of the heavy rain all last night long.

“This rain had been a source of adequate water supplies to plants” he mentions. Lighting a cigarette, he questions the complication of another point in the lecture. The smoke smoldering and rising lazily across his face, he narrows his eyes. He puts an enthusiasm into his explanation. He then asks if anyone misunderstands him.

Bashir ever seems busier at home. He makes a thorough study on the entire assignments and students’ works. He corrects and puts right the errors made. He sometimes invites the students to come to his house and he helps them in their studies. While some other times, he answers the telephone calls of those students who need explanations.

With the apparent qualifications, Bashir is a man of considerable executive ability. The thing I noticed with most wonder is that whatever he says he makes it in his action’s show. He is tireless in his efforts even to empty an ocean with a teacup. Overwhelmed and made busy by his task, he keeps himself a distance from comfort. He is a man of great poise and courage. On the other hand, he had paid a dear price for his behavioral success. “Openness sums up our entire duty” he always says.

To me, Bashir is a gift to be cherished. He permanently shaped my life and filled my dreams. He is also to me a blessing and inspiration. Thanks to his moral support, I am no longer caught in the trap of fear and worries.

Amoud, my University is an institution of higher learning. The objective of this institution is to provide higher educational assistance for secondary school graduates. Since its establishment, Amoud University has been operating to students’ advantage. It not only earned a reputation from the people in Somaliland , but it also created a name in the other world. Amoud University is now a respected and accredited institution in Africa . It’s however obvious that without the contribution of some committed people to Amoud University nothing would seem to matter. Bashir is one of those people who devoted all their energies to the survival and sustainability of our University

The pen of Ahmed Abib Hayir

Amoud University

School of Business and Public Administration

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