A frail old Jaamac struts into the hut with his Hangool on the grand occasion of his daughters wedding ceremony. The recipient of the daughters hand in marriage had travelled many kilometres and by the time he got to the tiny dwelling of his soon-to-be bride, the excitement got him talking a mile a minute. Before long he revealed his tribal lineages and ancestry on which the proud Jaamac blustered “War Ma anoo nin reer Hebel ah baan gabadhayda inan-gumeedkan siiyaa!” Haku daalin jeedaal. And what would have been a magnificent wedding is annulled before it even commenced!
Even the ordinary Xalimo struts around like a peacock with the gracefulness of a colt, looks at you up an down (huruuf) and walks away stuffing her dirac in her Googarad.