broken boyz in the endz

by Idman Omar

Thug mentality is to
stay up, pray for revenge
don’t get caught slippin
too much time on their hands
fam 
enough man talk too much
breathing, for any unreasonable slight,
slight
send a man to heaven 
that’s just the operation in the endz
hard and thick as bricks 
but bricks stay longer than dads
all faith lies in the knife
all energy in the way their toes spring
fear lives at the back of the mind
when the feds roll up
bad boy energy costs
money they take by force
rude boys
pumping my mother’s first car for 
moped petrol in broad daylight
in front of our eyes
postcode wars
robbery, drugs, fights, 
holding heat, foxes as tenants
rucksacks, burner phones, tracksuits,
always wearing hoods in the hood
thinking they’re rich in
bossman dealings, gangrene flats,
to be alone is to be a prick, group
upshot, basketball in the summer
the time Sky sang Usher’s ‘Burn’ on 
top of our street sign and we laughed
when Martin chased us up the stairs but
it wasn't funny, mental health issues ran rife
those girls were racist when we played 
outside bad boy energy exhausted me.
we had to walk past them as they
smoked weed on our staircase, my
father took warm water in a bucket and said
‘Times up boys. Let my daughters pass
he didn't ask, he told the
cocky crew but they respected him 
‘No problem bossman’
then they shot
music videos while we slept
us girls bathed and hair oiled, scared to leave the 
flat sometimes when mum sent us to buy
beef all the time, paigon this and 
wasteman that. The block was 
immigrant soaked. Mum called them 
Iyaala Souq, kids of the street
spent every day making sure
we did not become of the street
the place we used our free will to 
run so far from, a place we were 
brought to, to flee home.
To flee violence.


“Both these pieces [“broken boyz in the endz” and “Breaking Our Fast with Salt”] reflect my upbringing. Living as the child of immigrant parents in the UK made me aware of culture, religion and socioeconomic status. My work tries to assess and reason everyday life. To sit in the nooks of reality and try to gain deeper meaning as well as clarity from the blur of city life as a British Somali.” —Idman Omar

Originally from Somalia, Idman Omar is a freelance writer. She has previously been published with Southbank Poetry, Wild-Court and Guernica. Idman is a MA Creative Writing graduate from Birkbeck, University of London. 

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Breaking Our Fast with Salt

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