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.