Tuesday, February 8, 2011


Empires built on the philosophy of poverty, prescribing the people to the lack of education so they remain mentally and physically hungry, while they pillage everything from here to the humble village.

Democracy is nothing more then a ploy, we are no more then a plaything, a child’s toy, imagine working through the entire day, losing your health for the pennies they pay, and when you set yourself to lay, excruciating pain settles in your abdomen, a better life for you and your family through the night imagining.

A new year welcomed in birth, optimism filled in belief and dreaming for all its worth, pushing back the thoughts of the yester years and its hardships, I heard her name for the first time, whispered in close circles yet she stayed on my mind.

I carried on with life then I heard my mother Africa mention her, I listened as she spoke of her beauty, her attributes sent shivers through me, my thoughts drawn to her destination, I watched as she turned Tunisia’s sorrow into jubilation.

So I sat rooted in admiration, watching the imperialists play ventriloquists, but the revolutionist has freedom in his eyes and not attaining the lavish, demanding no more then a leader who is selfless, one to ensure the basic rights of the human and national progress.

Euphoria as I heard the people chant her name, the scent of her drove me beyond the threshold of the sane, I fell in love, her image ever imprinted in my brain, they say love is blind but I saw it with these very eyes of mine, as she showed the people how to draw freedom’s unbreakable line.

Striking right through tyranny signalling the end of its time, she gave bravery to the weary, light shined in the eyes that appeared ghostly, as hypocrisy bemoaned about policy, the people raised their fists and spoke clearly.

She only had a brief respite before she travelled further, once again she conversed with my mother, I sat there consumed by fever, not the type induced by illness but from the thoughts of desire, I asked her to show me once more, the ease in which she destroyed the bearers of false law.

This time I will capture the moment, never have the enemies of the people known such an opponent, her name flowed from the lips of the Egyptian, jealousy ripped through me, as I she embraced the inhabitants of every city.

Jasmine to the tyrant her scent is one that brings fear, chocking the cronies with the smoke of burning rubber, bewildered and helpless as they are stripped of power, to me her scent was is enough to bring wonder, a garden of freedom with the most beautiful flower, growing in its centre.  

To the inhabitants of this hear planet, true freedom has no replication, decipher the truth in jasmines implication, picture reality in these words, forget the propaganda and all the rubbish that you heard, a revolution is the only solution.

Hamza Egal
Copyright © 2011

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