Learning to Write Without Permission
By
John N. D. Garang
The first lesson in freedom is the courage to write without asking.
Where the Nile flows,
silent books of law have been written with guns.
The Torah there is a compilation of dreaming small —
of gratitude for crumbs not yet received,
of bellied men bathing in the shade of our hunger,
counting our ribs as sport.
Where the Nile flows,
the Nevi’im reads: send them to school,
but not enough to overwrite the alphabet of obedience —
just enough to worship us
in a language the foreigner understands.
They design a system
where a certificate is a chain to sycophancy,
and tie it gently or roughly if they must around our wings,
so we believe in God and science,
That when the nation falls— we may call it gravity.
Where the Nile flows,
I almost got baptized by their Ketuvim,
Wore their striped clothes and barked for validation,
Saluted the wind because they called it a flag.
But one morning I woke to the prophecies
they had torn from the Bible — dogs don’t write history, wolves do.
So I began to write, not with ink but intention,
not for applause but arrival.
Where the Nile flows,
I learned to write that patriotism is stealing with a flag in hand;
that greed is blessed in churches and called the giving of the Lord;
That fear is called peace, and silence, agreement.
I learned to write how to learn, teach, and become —
to unlearn serving kings who wear crowns of skulls.
Where the Nile flows,
I learned to write that vision does not die when eyes close,
that Garang was buried but his voice remains —
an antique in the museum of thought
for those who still seek truth.
I learned to write stories and speeches
while standing in the sun of truth,
while they, in the shade of our hunger,
own the country, and we — the muse.
Where the Nile stops flowing,
the skulls of those who wrote without permission
have blocked its path.
And so must more,
because every time we write without permission,
the skulls in the Nile — and Garang —
rise again and again.
And like October cooking my thoughts,
the notes we write without permission
will become the Bible
of generations still searching for dawn.
Bio: John N. D. Garang is a South Sudanese poet and Entrepreneurial Leadership student whose work explores identity, freedom, and the politics of voice in post-conflict societies. His poetry reflects on resilience and silence inspired by the struggles and hopes of his community.