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Jak A'muk Wa al-Blah

With his expertise, knowledge, creativity and a wealthy stash of Libyan sayings, our dear friend Tha-wri Bin A'mer (one of many good writers at once again, brought us a good and entertaining reading.
In his latest article:
he reminded us of long forgotten sayings, at least by me. It's the Jak a'muk wa al-blah.

Tha-wri seemed to have different version on the origin of this saying from mine. Maybe the flow of the revolutionary "fa-sookh" intoxicated him or maybe the saying is native to his neck of the woods. Knowing Tha-wri, he likely tailored the tale of the saying around the subject to better describe what's hidden, in which he promised to revealed later. In either case, the article prompted me to share with you what I know regarding the origin of Jak a'muk wa al-blah.

The tale of my version goes like this:

It was in "blah" season and a'mmuk al-webbar(1) was at work. He was busy harvesting his long-awaited reward. He was up in the sky, strapped into a palm tree and was maneuvering around the sharp prickly stuff when suddenly heard a little voice down below.

"ya a'mmi al-weh-li blah, Allah e-rab-hek".

The old man (al-webbar) was busy avoiding the poking of the unfriendly tree and thought to himself, the young boy could wait few minutes to get what he wants.

Once again "ya a'mmi... ya'ammi... a'Teeni blah.." yells the boy.

Holding the little handsaw with one hand while trying to reposition himself with the other to reach and cut the "blah" cluster, he hears the boy hollering again.

"ya a'mmi...ya a'mmi... eb-laeha walla ethnaen... min fadhlek............."

The boy's calls distracted our webbar. The tree seized the opportunity and gave him a good sting. Reacting to the pain, he pulls hard on the saw and with that the cluster comes loose sweeping everything in its path; an avalanche sent our webbar for a journey down.

There was no choice for our poor webbar but to obey the gravity request.

What else but a good sample of Libyan stock, as he was, that shines when the tough gets going. Our webbar managed, in midair, to utter: Jak Ďamuk wa al-blah.

(*) A profession of matchmaking male with female palm trees; a task requires great deal of monkey-like climbing skill.

Side note for the pondering:
48-hour ultimatums... take it or leave it! 48 hours or 48 days; the war was imminent, on the move and nothing was able to stop it, and once it starts it will not end without the thick mustached butcher of Baghdad's head is served on a plate. The world knew it and so did Saddam...For the life of me, my friends, I can't understand why the tyrant Saddam did not avoid the war or minimize the damage, or even challenge or call the bluff of the war drummers, by coming out within these 48 hours, declare the alternative (stepping down and hitting the road to exile) and save what he could, the country, instead of sacrificing the whole Iraqi people including his own and his family. Could it be: you say and do nothing in this time frame and you can run for your life or else, you end-up as a cellmate with Manuel Noriega of Panama to say the least? Two harsh choices and he took the easiest for him. I think the ruthless dictator struck a deal to save his hide and the hides of his top men, leaving precious Iraq in ruins? What do you think?

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