Free in chains * Have you ever had one of those mornings where everything is just perfect and you realize just how lucky you are; blessed with things you dont quite notice. Although I am blessed or cursed with seeing the darker side of the world there are moments when the sun just bursts through the darkness with a brilliant radiance and when you look back you realise that some of your dreams did come true. When I was younger I had many dreams like an young person looking into what their future could be and trying to glimpse into the world of possibilities. I remember when i was bought a projector and used to show movies to my friends; i always dreamt of being a filmmaker or writer living a bohemian life. Today I have written books am still writing books, have been published, have made films and am still making films and living a bohemian life subject to no rules except my own, answerable to no one but myself; I can with certainty say; I am a free man. This morning I awoke and went down to the beach to watch a sunrise, do my work and have breakfast. Whilst there I saw people scurrying to work, nameless faceless people like armies of ants bent on bringing food to the ant-heap; it made me glad for being who and what I am for being free and being free. it also made me realize you could be whatever you chose to be if you worked hard to make your dreams come true. then I saw this guy scavenging in the dust bin and wondered what were his dreams , why didnt they come true; was life equal with opportunity, it is just to all of us? Somehow it just didnt seem so. I thought back on the days when we oppressed and denied the opportunity of making our dreams a reality; I saw how other people stole our dreams to make their dreams come true; I saw the disparity in life and wondered; if someone stole that mans dreams what was the fallout as a result of the theft of his dreams; who was he? did he have children who looked for him, missed him who would or could give them back to him? It in these moments that you realize the enormity of the crimes that were committed against us as a people; you realize how evil and ugly apartheid really was; you realize that although things seem ok, dressed up in democracy , voting, heritage days, political parties and all the pomp and ceremony underneath it all the ugliness is still there; a little less visible but there nonetheless peeping through the cracks if you choose to see and the man scavenging in the bin represented that starkly. Many amongst us would want us to forget what was done to us but how can we forget when our people still have their breakfasts from bins whilst those who stole our dreams still sit with silver cutlery feasting on our dreams. when I see that man in the bin I cannot but be struck by the fact that freedom has not arrived for all of us; it arrived for those like me but when well it arrive for those mired in grinding poverty whose dinner table is our bins? When will justice be served to him; when will his dreams be returned to him; when will those who have stolen them give them back? It is at moments like these that I realize that to free both myself and the man in the bin we must all speak in a firmer voice demanding what was taken from us all and ensure that there arent any more people living from bins because someone stole their dreams. Until the man who lives off the bins is free we are all still not free no matter how much we fool ourselves; the reality is we are free yet in chains. rassool jibraeel snyman (c) 2014 the poetic assassin
Posted on: Tue, 07 Oct 2014 06:02:24 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015