Hooyo is featured in Yasminah's first album "Naked Nomad" which was released in 2009 by the Indie Label Squad Music Group. Hooyo/Mother describes the struggle Yasminah faced as a child while her mother was fleeing from the Civil War in 1991 in Somalia. Very emotional song, indeed. 

Hooyo by Yasminah

Official Yasmin Ft. Shiine Akhyaar

10 Gossip Girl

09 Husband And Wife

04 Ready Not To Love

02 Streets Of Amerika

02 Our Day Will Come

03 Hooyo

01 Intro

Marry Him - (Music by Major League Beats)

Love

I'm An Orphan

UPCOMING ALBUM - POOR POETESS
Production by Yasminah 

I Don't Share Your Tribe Ft. Mona

Dear Diana (Music by Yasminah)

Jamila | Rape Victim by Yasminah

Fancy Wedding | Poem by Yasminah

Afrikoy Daya --LIVE Nairobi

AFRICA - Yasminah ft. Shiine Akhyaar

While in Somalia, I hopped on a bus filled with locals going to a different city, and old man decided to bully me and call me an outsider. Verbally attacked me for articulating myself in English and Somali. I’ve wrote a poem that is dedicated to the incident.

Poor Poet 

Dayuusbara (Diaspora)(Produced by Yasminah)

Heartbreak ft. Yasminah

Allah Hooyo ft. Yasminah

Aabo (Father)

When I was younger,
My mother used to tell me a story,
about a woman named Araweelo,

She said

"women like her are not born but carved by society, 
polished by hardship, defined by struggle, —to become brave and free,"

When I was younger,
My mother used to tell me a story,
about a woman named Araweelo,

A warrior, a leader, who paved the way for women,
At a time when women were powerless, to the egoistic minds and selfish hearts of men,

She instilled fear in the hearts of cowards who were naive to believe that women, amount to nothing,

Nothing, mumbles the old men as he drains her spirit with tales of lies,

Nothing, writes the poet next door, as he presses his pen against her words,

Nothing, cries the wounded soldier, as he whispers worries into her heart,

Nothing, but a fiction, they said.
Such woman, couldn't have existed, they said.

But, oh men,
She surely was no fiction.

It was she,
when fear drowned me,
who gave me strength,

It was she,
when silence shackled my thoughts, who gave me my voice,

It was she,
when my mind was imprisoned,
who helped me escape the darkness,

It was she
who guided me when I was lost —

She said run,
Run, until cowards are invisible,
Until you can’t hear the howling of the wolves,
Run, until your tongue learns the language of heroes,
Run until your heart knows not where fear goes,

You stop not for love, lean not on hate, and trust not the soul that comforts the devil at night, my dear

Run, across battlefields, jump over hurdles and dodge their arrows,

Run...

So I run,
I run as far as I can.
Till the soles of my feet bleed,
Until the ink of my pen is emptied,
I run until bravery
is in the air I breathe,
I run.

Until cheap words can no longer catch me,
I run until the secrets of the silent tongue keeps me company,
Until sorrow is lost in my shadow,
And fear is nowhere in my vicinity,

I run.
Until I find Araweelo, in me.

Araweelo

My pain is filled with compassion,
My tongue has carried heavy weight of guilt, and passion,
I’ve been praying for my vision to clear up before my passing 
but these politicians yearn for greed while being ungrateful bastards
War waa xaasids, who sleeping with demons in open caskets,
How ya going work on peace in a country, your own semen aint even safe to be in?
Tell me, where ya kid’s at?
Where ya wives at?
Where ya buy that? Those fancy suits, and shiny black boots you keep in those free duty bags, 
Free Gucci bags, for you wife and her friends,
I know presidents who own mansions in the enemies land,
but still scream "war waa enemy’geeyn!"
War waalahi waa part of the plan, and we are part of their plan,
Farmaajo ii geeya, so I can cut his ****** hands, and tell him the truth,
Cause I’m tired of the empty promises they feed you,
And NGO’s are funded to deceit you,
Soldiers are underpaid so they rob and beat you 
--------
Leaders, so eager to leader us, only to rob and delete us,
Politicians, with no ambitions,
Got borders and divisions,
Corrupted decisions,
See the truth is simple,
They the talk the talk, but the walk is crippled 
I was naive to believe men, who deceived men,
To achieve plans that left women only to grieve for many many men,
And see the truth is hard to find like brave men,
cause these men are too coward, and too weak to pave the way for great men
We have lost too many souls, in the hands of corruption, too many heroes,
Too many mothers, too many men who never came home to their sons,
Too many promises broken, and these presidents only leave us heartbroken,
But I’m hoping, and praying, that heroes  like Hodan and Almaas, can live within us, and be the light of hope in this darkest moments,   
Never forget the names that stood for peace,
Never forget the faces that stood for unity and love, 
Never forget, 
I shall never forget

2019

Dhulkayga ft. Yasminah

Yasminah is a Somali-American activist, poet, writer, and musician, whose artistic origins began at nine years old.  Using art as her gateway, Yasminah’s style uses afro-fusion tunes with melodic vocals to help transport her poetry across borders, transcending the boundaries of everyday social dialogue in Africa and beyond.

Yasminah

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