‘No,’ he said, No to oppression, No to injustice,

No to violence. Even as he stood before the guards. The sun

was rising proper in the East, blushing the soil scarlet.

Sozaboy was with soldiers, arguing with the heart

of darkness. We all stand before history, he thought, and

‘No,’ he murmured through cracked lips. ‘No.’

He could not wipe his sweat mimicking sorrow’s tears.

His tied hands tried. His crowded heart pounding with the fear

of the unknowable. He mouthed ‘No,’ just before

 their fifth attempt to hang him. Who will claim

the corpse of free speech, but those with a pen

to their name? History is on his side. And ours. Yes.

This poem is included in the Anthology Dance the Guns to Silence, edited by nii ayikwei Parkes and Kadija Sesay, 2005, London: Flipped Eye Publishing.