Evolution

It is a language that can tell a whole story in a single sentence, long and winding like a rope of wind making its way across the land; it picked up the debris of gossip, dreams, and whispered mutterings in its wake, taking with it the characteristics of each homestead that it passed.

This is a language you will never fully master if you are from Al-Gharb, the West, the Strange, the Foreign, the Place Where the Sun Sets (all these words share the same root).

It is a language that, like all tongues, continues to evolve, and trying to swallow it whole will only make you keel over sick in the end; so it’s better to enjoy the small bites, the subtle flavors of a Hikaya, a Story, and Haki, Speech. Whoever you speak with is a Hakawaati, a Storyteller, in their own right.

Perhaps by letting your ear inhale the rushing train, the waterfall of sometimes incomprehensible words, perhaps you will catch some drops, and in the tiny glints of understanding, you will begin to string together an A’alim, a World, and you will arrive at A’elm, to Knowledge.

But wait! Be patient, for you can only learn shway shway, little by little.