Written by Ugochukwu Anadi

You can only know a man’s murderers by knowing those who chained him; they’re always one and the same.

 

Like wine does to the tongue,

And water on the flesh of a fish;

Like oxygen does to the lungs,

And carbon monoxide to the gills

Of a gaily, girly, glit-edged plant,

Freedom is to man the acme of being.

 

On its wings, the poor flies first-class,

On its back, beggars ride the best of horses;

Walking is for the crippled, hearing

For the deaf, and speaking for the dumb,

On a land owned by freedom.

 

You cannot know the taste of

Freedom, unless you know the taste

Of water on a sun scorched, thirsty tongue;

Or the taste of honey, on a tongue that only

Knows bitter-leaf, and galls, and bile.

 

Putting man in chains

And putting man in graves,

Therefore becomes one and the same.