Bosaso Seafood Exporter
"She exports lobster from Bosaso to Dubai—a thick ebony widow who's built an empire from the sea. When he arrives seeking sustainable fishing partnerships, she offers a business meeting. Some negotiations are conducted in private."
Bosaso's port faces the Gulf of Aden.
Lobsters, sharks, fish—Puntland's wealth swims in these waters. Maryam exports the best to Dubai, Abu Dhabi, Doha. Her company is the largest in the region.
I come representing an American sustainable seafood initiative.
"Sustainability?" She reviews my proposal. Fifty-three years old. Two hundred and forty pounds of export authority. Ebony skin, business attire despite the heat, the confidence of a woman who's built an empire. "We've been fishing sustainably for generations."
"We want to certify that. Open Western markets."
"Mashallah." She considers. "Come to my office. We'll discuss terms."
Her office overlooks the fishing boats.
Wealth evident but not ostentatious—a woman who reinvests in her community.
"My husband started this company," she says. "Died ten years ago. Pirates took his boat."
"Pirates?"
"This is Puntland. The sea gives wealth and takes lives." She watches the water. "I've made this company bigger than he ever dreamed. But I did it alone."
We spend weeks together.
Visiting fishing villages, meeting boat captains, documenting practices. She knows everyone, commands respect everywhere.
"You're a queen here," I observe.
"I'm a businesswoman." She laughs. "Queens inherit. I built."
"Built what?"
"Everything. From nothing. From a widow with one boat to this." She gestures at the port. "Ten years of work. Ten years of loneliness."
"Stay for dinner."
Her home is beautiful—traditional Somali design with modern comfort.
"You've been professional," she says. "But I see how you look at me."
"How do I look at you?"
"Like I'm more than a business partner." She meets my eyes. "Ten years since a man looked at me like that."
"Then let me look properly."
I worship the seafood exporter.
In her coastal mansion while the Gulf of Aden whispers. Her body is the finest catch—ebony curves, heavy breasts, powerful belly.
"Ten years—" She gasps as I undress her. "Toban sano—"
"Tonight we export pleasure."
I lay her on silk sheets.
The wealth of the sea beneath us. Her body is the treasure I seek.
I spread her thick thighs.
Dive for lobster.
"ILAAHAY!"
She screams—ten years of commercial success finally receiving personal reward. Her hands grip my head.
"Don't stop—" She's shaking. "Dhakhso—"
I harvest her pleasure until she's overflowing. Three times.
"Inside me—" She's pulling at me. "Ku soo gal—fill my cargo hold—"
I strip. She watches with those business eyes.
"Subhanallah—premium grade."
"Export quality."
I push inside the seafood exporter.
She screams.
"So full—" Her legs wrap around me. "Don't stop—"
I ship everything I have.
Her massive body shakes. She comes twice more.
"Fill me—" She's begging. "Complete the manifest—"
I release inside her.
We lie listening to the Gulf.
"Your sustainability proposal," she murmurs. "I'll sign."
"And what do I sign?"
"A longer partnership." She smiles. "Much longer."
One Year Later
Puntland lobster sells in American markets now.
Certified sustainable. Certified delicious.
"Macaan," Maryam moans as another shipment departs. "My best investment."
The exporter who feeds the Gulf.
The woman who feeds my heart.
Premium catch.