One of my best friends in Sweden, Mohammad Gedi, comes from Somalia. He is a fantastic guy who works hard, is always positive, and is one of the nicest people I have met. Over the last eight months I have heard stories now and then of his life in Somalia and the family he was forced to leave behind when he fled to Sweden. He always told them with a funny spin and made light of the gravity of his situation, but underneath his positive demeanor there was horror. Gun fights, a family of 12 he hadn't seen in over three years. He had no idea if they were alive, dead, safe, in grave danger.
Gedi worked harder and faster in school than any other pupil and always had a smile. He was helped me move my huge sofa from out third floor apartment and wouldn't even let me pay his bus ticket home. Today, I sat here writing in my blog about the loss of balance and security in my life when Gedi came into the computer lab and sat beside me. We talked for a few minutes, then he mentioned, casually, with a gleam in his eye that he had discovered his family. Safe. Every single one of them. In England. I felt like my heart would overflow with gladness.
All this time he has been working, waiting, searching. A young guy of 22 alone in the cold north and suddenly all his fears were laid to rest. Words can't express how grateful I am for his sake. This world doesn't have enough guys like Gedi. When I think about the perseverance of this kind friend of mine, it really dwarfs the issues of balance I have in my own life. Thank you Gedi.
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