THE BEAUTY BEHIND GOLDHamda omar 

In 2015, my mother placed a piece of dahab in my hand. The necklace was small, but its weight surprised me. It was warm from her skin, smooth and worn, as if it had been passed through many lives before mine.


“This isn’t just jewelry,” she said. “This is home.”’


Somalia and Ethiopia are places I carry more in memory than in distance. When my family moved, we couldn’t take land, houses, or familiar streets. What we could carry was gold. Dahab held value beyond money. It was security in uncertain moments and a promise that something familiar would survive the journey.


When I hold the necklace now, it makes a soft sound, a quiet clink that feels like a voice. I think of family gatherings, the air filled with incense and coffee, women laughing as gold flashed against their wrists. The bracelets moved with them, alive with history, catching light and attention.


Wearing this piece connects me to generations before me. Dahab is more than decoration. It is a memory shaped by migration, culture preserved in metal, and proof that even when people are forced to move, their identity remains.

– Hamda Omar

Relationship:  Im/migrant Im/migrant