My opinion of the problem in Somalia

I feel that the growing radical group of Al-Shabaab has caused many problems not only in Somalia, but also in other countries, for example Egypt. I feel that even when infringements on other countries cannot be tolerated, such bellicose methods imposed by the terrorist groups must be stopped immediately.

The mere fact of the Al Qaeda terrorist groups have led to many other problems, one mainly being the unstable government of Somali. I think that in order to give Somalia a sustainable and efficient government, member states must raid of the problem that has been too long been dwelling within Somalia. However this is easier said than done; Somalia does not have enough military resources in order to fight against terrorist groups and if outer countries interfere, Somalians might consider such movements as infringing upon their policies. If we are to rid such a enduring problem, Somalia should be able to co-operate with fellow member states in order to devise a viable plan to unite forces to stop the terrorist group. In addition the constant famine in Somalia must also be mitigated in order to create a transition period for the current unstable government to be replaced. Resources can be sent from neighboring countries; though there may be countries who suffer from their own problems, we must all pitch in to help. The continuing piracy within the Somalia Coast has also been a widely known international problems concerning numerous countries and massively affecting the shipping industry. Because many shipping ships are captures off the shore of Somalia and held captive for ransom, they are unable to use the quick and efficient route crossing Africa, Instead they have to make a huge loop in order to evade the pirates. This creates huge economical loss that are detrimental to shipping companies across the world. The piracy can only be stopped by two ways: either raiding all pirates or to provide the people with subsistence of jobs in order to maintain the average living conditions. 

The Winter of 1979

Every winter in New York was cold and bitter, but his year, it was not just thundering storms and howling snow; it was a cull of the poor. Each omen of an approaching storm meant a gamble, a gamble for our lives. However, not everybody lived in fear of such a gamble, because it was only the poor, like me, that had to worry about it. Like the reaper itself, no materialistic walls or bed sheets could protect us from its freezing touch. We did not have heaters, nor the money to afford it and the government had other “priorities”, at least that’s how they put it.  For us who lived in the rundown abandoned chapel, the winter of 1979 was only beginning.

“There will be a storm tonight,” Eldwin proclaimed in front of us. He was the leader of our group which consisted of me and nine other members. We started with twenty five, but as the winter progressed, we only ended up with nine. And as we reached the peak of coldness, the last challenge was the hardest. However we were the lucky ones to have claimed the chapel first which was quite spacious, but the extra area carried nothing but chilling air.

We started to head out to scavenge the city. What people would leave in the garbage bins was only a delight to our finding. However even the food others that others have thrown away are not free to take. There are competitors. As shameful as it may sound, even we, the people who could have fallen no lower in the social hierarchy had competitors. And in the live or die winter this year, each piece of food no matter how stale or smelly it was, was precious for survival.

The nine of us divided the city into sections as we each took our respective route to the garbage bins. As I approached the bin, my heart tingled with the hope that there might be a big find. Indeed, nothing was certain, there may be a complete meal that someone left or there may be absolutely nothing but inedible materials. I grabbed on to the edge of the canister and looked inside. There was half a hotdog. I slowly retracted my body over the edge and stuffed the cold remains into my pocket. The omens of the approaching storm were apparent: dark clouds mustered over the city. Throughout the day, I checked through numerous canisters but only few held rewards. On my way back, the drops of rain quickly dotted the asphalt streets. The metallic air swept through my coat as my whole body trembled. Then the howling wind blew through the streets. I was the only one on it. I tried my best to muster up what strength that was left as I trudged slowly to the chapel.

Finally I reached my destination. I entered through the wooden doors and quickly shut them behind me. Eldwin had already set up the fire as six members had already returned. However little did I know that I was the last of the members to return that day. As we piled what food we had, I saw each member trembling to the cold. Little did I know that I too was trembling, but it happened everyday it felt normal now. The wind blew furiously as the doors shook in its presence. As we all hoped that the door would hold, the first strike of cackling thunder hit the ground.

My heart sunk. The first thunder was quickly followed by other raging bolts of lightning. The rain poured down onto the roof which seemed to as if it could collapse any moment. The moon was no where to be seen and the only light was the slowly dying fire. We all gathered around a small corner as we huddled together to preserve what heat was left in our trembling bodies. No one could sleep, even if we tried, there was no way when our lives were on the line. The rain continued and so did the relentless wind as they continued to come endlessly.

Then as all hope was lost, the rain and wind lightened. Our hearts reemerged from with hope. But then, through a hole in the roof, the first drifting piece of white snow landed in front of my eyes as I stared in horror. The white reaper was coming.

Hours later, the howling wind returned, and what seemed like gentle snow was now pounding on chapel from all sides. As we all gathered tighter, each one of us knew that this may be our last stance. Multiple bolts of thunder soared through the sky to the earth. The wind raged as the snow slowly turned to ice pellets that barraged the windows. The roof on the opposite side slowly bent down and multiple windows were now decimated by the anger of mother nature. Then with the deep cringing sound, the roof on the opposite corner collapsed and we were now completely vulnerable to the reaper. The assaulting wind almost pinned us to what walls remained of the chapel. The white snow slowly but evidently crept near us as the temperature dropped even lower and lower.    

We now accepted our destined fate of demise. But Eldwin was still hoping, that maybe even if one us could survive this treacherous night. And it was decided, that I would be the one if any. As we slowly changed our formation, I was moved into the heart of the group. To my objections, all the other members agreed because I was the youngest. A drop of tear slid down my face, before everything went dark.

When I opened my eyes, I looked around. The whole chapel was covered in a layer of pure white snow. As I looked around, even the distant horizons were covered in a layer of snow. So quiet, so peaceful. Even the sun slowly showed itself behind the retreating clouds. And the glowing warmth hit my face as I looked into a future of hope.

But then, the sun sawed through the tear which was frozen on my face. As I felt the droplet run down my cheek, a sudden revelation struck as I turned around to find what this hope had cost.

My opinion on the Syria Crisis

The crisis in Syria has escalated to a level where even the former UN secretary general, Annan quits his “impossible” peace role. With the crisis lasting for more than a year now, the bloodshed has not stopped because of the Syrian government’s intransigence.

First of all I feel that with the current situation, immediate action needs to be taken. Further prolonging the issue will only lead to more factors being involved and more time for the crisis to escalate. Second,  from the very first day of the uprising of Arab Spring, the Syrian Government’s goal was to deter non-violent protests but rather encourage its militarization. As crazy as it sounds, by encouraging protesters militarization, the regime could legitimize its use of violence. Furthermore the regime would be sure to win as its soldiers are better trained and better equipped. As a result, in no way should our resolution incorporate militarization and intervention for two reasons. One being that several countries, such as Iran, have vowed to attack foreign forces in Syria; another being that the mandate of the UN body has no saying in military intervention. Thus it would be wise for the committee to incorporate peaceful negotiations. However realizing that these have already been previously tried, I would like to introduce a new viewpoint on to issue. The fight between regime and the Arab Spring can only happen based on resources, or supporters. The regime’s constituencies mainly include the soldiers themselves which the regime has created a despotic administration according to their loyalty. Thus, the only possible peaceful way of ending such a violent battle, would be to bring the battle to another frontier. However, this does not mean another physical battle, rather a battle for the political “brand”. We need to show the regime constituencies that our brand is better, which consists of negotiations and the transfer of power peacefully from Assad. The way we can win such a philosophical battle is through dialogue and communication. Only when there have been substantive information and “advertisement” has been given to the constituencies can they sway to our “brand”. By transferring the battle into another medium is the only way we can ever hope to solve the ongoing bloodshed in Syria.

Poem about True Love

I once thought love,
would triumph all above.
But then I grew,
and that dream blew.


Nothing can make it stay.
It will fade to grey,
because people are rash,
and it will turn them to ash.


Love cannot be everlasting,
when people are so contrasting.
Time will wear them down,
and what's left to drown.

Objective and Subjective courses

For me, I’ve always been a fan of objective courses, like math physics and chemistry where there is a so called “right answer”. On the other hand, I usually don’t get hyped about subjective courses like English or French, where there isn’t a “right answer”. However, don’t get me wrong, I have no grudge against these subjective courses. It may be that it is simply because I’m not good with them that I never seemed to enjoy taking them. This is in part because of their characteristics.

Subjective information is an opinion, a judgment, or a belief. This means that there may be multiple answers as long as you can back them up with evidence. This should seem to fall straight into my alley, as I am an experienced debater and Model United Nations participant. However, when it’s on pen and paper, it’s a completely different story.

It seems as if whenever I hold my pen and prepare to write, I start to panic. I’m afraid of messing up, afraid to bomb another essay, afraid to take a chance. When I consider such a scenario, it almost reminds me of when I first started to practice public speaking. Honestly, I was very shy in grade ten. Now, people can’t seem to get me to shut up. When I first started, I was nervous, I was more than uncomfortable. But I knew I wanted to get better, I knew this was an obstacle I had to face some time in my life. So I didn’t quit the debate club, nor the MUN (Model United Nations) club. And with practice, I naturally got better. From this, I learned that any skill is not inborn, but rather a trait that can be developed by anyone who wish to do so. Now I take pride in what I say, or what my speeches present to the audience. And in a sense, I hope to take pride in my essays, and to make myself proud when I show them the progress that I have made in the grade 11 year.

Easier said then done. This will undoubtedly become one of the major challenges that await me. 

Sedentary or physical?

            My father, coming from suburbs in China, knows physical labor from head to tail as he grew up in the rice fields itself. I, however, significantly differ from him, and it is more than apparent from the difference between us: he has a towering body physique and loves to exercise outside, while I, as he describes, look like chopsticks.

Ever since I was small, my father wanted me to develop a love for sports and a love for my own body, but I always felt going outside as an obligation to follow his orders rather than my free will. This became especially troubling for me when it rained, because he loved to go outside in the rain, not under an umbrella, but to play badminton. And who else would he take with him besides his loving son?

Sometimes, he’d even try to use logic with me to try and get me to go outside, but everyone in my family knows no one can win a debate with me. Once he said that if I exercise more, I will live longer, but I told him : “Ya, but those extra years I lived probably is less then the years I would have to spend in the gym.”

He loves the outside; he loves to embrace the nature, and I guess for once, the cliché “like father like son” doesn’t apply to me. Rather than toiling myself in the rain and mud, I find pleasure in sitting in front of a computer, knowing all my homework is finished, and I can relax in my comfy leather chair as I put up some soothing music in the background. I don’t understand why my father would want to go outside so much when we can immerse ourselves in technology, in the future, but maybe that goes both ways.     

In then end, I would stay inside and enjoy a great book or surf the net then go outside any day.