Ayrotv.com-Gobyar Tawn- In the rugged heart of the Meder Plateau, where the winds carried the scent of the Red Sea and the Ethiopian highlands stood like ancient pyramids, power was not just measured by sword or wealth—it was measured by honor, loyalty, and hand cruel of fate.
There, at the foot of the mountains of Gurays, Ugas Nour reigned with wisdom forged by adversity and a heart as vast as the land he ruled. His people revered him, not out of fear, but out of respect, a respect earned through justice and kindness. Under his watch, the lands prospered in peace, and the clans lived in fragile harmony under his banner.
But peace is a delicate glass—a single crack, and it breaks.
A plot of treason
Down south, in the sunscorched lands where shadows stretched and ambitions fed bitterly, lived the Bar-tirre clan, strong and proud. Despite blood ties—Ugas Nour’s sister had married one of their own—a resentment grew silently, like an insidious poison. Jealous of Nour’s influence and nurturing old wounds never forgotten, the Bar-tirre leaders conspire an unthinkable plan.
They decided to send their own nephew—a promising young man with sharp intelligence—to kill the Ugas. A betrayal wrapped in blood, an act that defied all the sacred codes of kinship and honor shared between the Bar-tirre and the Reer Ugas. But ambition follows its own law, and when hate whispers loud enough, even the family becomes a sacrifice.
A Mother’s Silent Sorrow
Ugas Nour’s mother—sister—didn’t ignore the rumors that traveled on the wind, in a land where every whisper could be heard by the land itself. One night, as the sun broke into the bloody horizon, she caught whispers of betrayal. A shadow of fear fell over his heart as he discovered the truth: his own son had been chosen as the blade destined for his brother’s heart.
When her son prepared for his journey, wrapped in a false duty and silent determination, she set on her path. Her voice, soft and tense, broke the silence.
– Where are you going, my son?
Il hésita—une lueur de culpabilité passa dans ses yeux—mais il força un sourire.
— Visiting my uncle. I bring him the greetings of our people.
The mother, carrying the weight of love and fear, stretched out a small package of jerky to her. Her gaze did not flutter as she uttered words of heavy meaning, far beyond what her son could comprehend.
— Bring this to my bro. Tell her not to send it back
The Silent Warning
When Ugas Nour receives the present, he immediately understands the hidden message behind this seemingly anodine gesture. In their culture, sharing food was sacred, and denying it was a grave insult. But his sister’s instruction—not to throw back the meat—came a warning. It was a mother’s silent cry, a plea to protect both her brother and her stray son.
Cette nuit-là, sous l’immensité du ciel, Ugas Nour récita un poème qui traduisait la tempête qui agitait son cœur :
Oh God, a man who is worse than me, I slept on the front floor.
O Allah, why have I let an enemy rest on my side?
A man who is grazing for me, why did I cook the food?
Why have I offered my kindness to the one who is not in my enemy’s field?
The body doesn’t want a man, why did I give the talk enough
Why did I give welcoming words to the one whose heart wanted me to hurt?
The worms flowed from her soul like a river of sadness and strength—an awareness that betrayal doesn’t always come from strangers, but often from those we cherish.
The failure of the plot
When the young assassin arrived, Ugas Nour welcomed him with warmth and honor, leaving no suspicion transparent. But the hallways were watched, every movement observed. That night, as the assassin discreetly approached his uncle’s bedroom, a blade hidden under his tunic, he encountered not a sleeping ruler, but guards ready to unravel the treachery.
His catch was quick, but Ugas Nour did not condemn him. He glanced at his nephew’s—not with rage, but with immense sadness.
— Your mother’s heart broke long before you lifted that blade. Go away, and let this lesson be your punishment—betrayal will haunt you far more than death.
The missing assassin was sent back to his clan, unchained, but with the crushing weight of shame. The Bar-Tirre plot hadn’t just failed—it had revealed their dishonor to all the clans.
Legacy of Grace and Wisdom
This event, whispered through generations, marked the end of a dangerous rivalry. Ugas Nour’s choice of mercy over vengeance echoed through the highlands, etching his legacy not only as a wise leader but as a man whose honor could not be broken by betrayal.
The Meder Plateau stood in peace, and the Reer Ugas remembered the story of a leader who faced death by the blood of his own blood—but chose to break the cycle of violence.
And in the silent nights, as the wind howled through the foothills of Gurays, the earth itself seemed to recite Ugas Nour’s poem, reminding all who listened that true strength lies not in the blade—but in forgiveness.
Reff. Prof. Hassan Warfa
