There is a young woman called Fatima. She is a outspoken individual. She is a person everyone can talk to and play with. She has a distinct laugh. She is my sister. 

She is a person of the people. She has a lot of stories. When I was younger we use to joke and laugh about our families differences. There are so many cultural differences. My family was rarre Noor. My mother is rare Mohammed from her fathers side and rarre Mahedassa.

Fatima was a really good person. I remember a time when me her and my sister would go out to eat and leisure. 

I grew up with Fatima. It is really messed up because we went through everything together. Fatima is rarre Dir. It is a clan in Somalia that are known for their poetic expression.  It is a nation known as The nation of poets. 

Fatima was my best friend. She died in early 2017. It was my sister and she died because. She went to Somalia and never returned. There are many stories on the media about the ways in which the media destroy ideas about developing countries. 

Fatima was a shy girl. She supported me through the worse problems that I ever had. The death of my father, my grandfather and my grandmother. When she died she took everything alive and sweet in this world with her. Everything good was just gone. There was noting good after that. 

Her father was a real bastard. Her mother was ignorant. They literally caused her death. It is really frustrating to think about how Fatima affect my life and all my family. My sister Laila loved her and always made time for her. 

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