My beloved friends, I would be remiss if I did not take this opportunity to mention my dear big brother Keith Cook. Happy birthday, brother.
We gather again another day in another year, another battle, and yes, another battle won. Thanks to you, the people, we, you and I, have battled in city streets and in rural court rooms in this struggle for freedom.
But how about the struggle for life itself? When I was on death row facing death warrants with dates to die, you took to the streets of over a dozen cities to say, “No.” Your simple yet powerful “no” stoped the hand of the executioner and opened the door to life.
And when I was sent to another toxic site called a prison, and my health crashed, and I came closer to death than any time I was on death row, you stood in the snow at the gates of the prison, at the parking lot of the hospital, demanding I receive good treatment and care.
You, the people, stood with me when I was unconscious in a diabetic coma, and you filled every courtroom available to demand freedom and justice.
What a movement this is. We are on the MOVE for real, and we still are today. What is behind such a movement as this? The answer is as simple as it is profound: love. I am your brother, and you, all of you, are my family. You are my sisters and my brothers, my aunts and uncles, my people.
To thank you, you who’ve done so much for so long, seems so small, and yet I thank you, all of you. Thank you for radiating so much love over this long struggle. We’re not done. We have more to do. we have work to do, yes. But before us also stands justice and freedom.
So in all the ways I can, please allow me to say in Kikuyu, [inaudible], in Somali, “mahadsanid,” in Arabic, “shukran,” in Swahili “asante sana,” in Chinese, “xie xie,” in Japanese, “arigatogozaimasu,” in French, “merci,” in German, “danke,” in Spanish, “gracias,” and in ebonics, “good looking out y’all.”
I thank you all for all you’ve done and for what we are about to do.
From imprisoned nation, this is Mumia Abu-Jamal.
These commentaries are recorded by Noelle Hanrahan of Prison Radio.