TO say that we are free from colonial rule is to imply some sort of liberty from the shackles of former exploitation, some sort of release from prior modes of subjugation. Yet these shackles and modes are very much present, still rendering us numb to our own potential.
Yes, we are, as a nation, deemed free from the direct rule of one group of people, but if freedom is to be understood in total terms, we are not even halfway there.
This assumption of liberty seems like an attractive stance to take for it gives meaning to the struggle of those who came before us: our parents, and their parents, and those who preceded them.
It provides comfort and justifies the steps taken and approaches actualised from days past.
It validates those exertions, those grand gestures of fighting for the people, and of defending vast lands until the last drop of blood is spilled. It assumes to give voice to those thought to be voiceless.
Were they, though? Were these voiceless segments really without the ability to mutter an expression, and to lay claim to what they deemed to be right, and what was considered to be wrong?
We would do well to note that they did voice out, and were in fact, the loudest. There is no point in shouting if those shouts fall on deaf ears.
The issue here is that the words on their tongues were different, the language not understood.
They were rendered superfluous. Just noise to be dealt with on the terms of the oppressor. It was foreign, and of course, lost in translation.
So are we free? It seems to be a ridiculous question, since we enjoy certain freedoms, and we can say with certainty that we are not directly coerced or controlled into doing anything at all.
Yet we still apply the vocabulary of those who seem to be chained, uttering complaints and dissatisfaction with the vicissitudes of life.
These complaints might be warranted, but if we are to reach an agreement on solutions for the supposed benefit of the people, on what and whose terms are we shaking our hands on?
All communities create ideas of their place in this world. All communities organise their systems of cooperation to the best of their ability, making use of finite resources and methods passed down from generation to generation.
Yet these methods are ridiculed and mocked, and are discarded as if they meant nothing.
Who then has the power to define, and to give meaning to those definitions? We know the answer, but are unwilling to admit it.
We have been taken for a ride, but we have been conditioned to enjoy it.
The status of the human was self-ascribed to dominant people powerful enough to name themselves and define others.
That which was given the label "non-human" became objects, resources that are usable and disposable by unapologetic humans. To be plundered and pillaged.
It is thus a concept, and not just an identity. In other words, the attribute "human" is not self-evident or confirmed. It can be wielded, bestowed and revoked.
To divide and conquer, one has to first define and categorise. Those working on orders of the Crown were the ones with authority.
They were able to give names and by so doing, dominate its subjects as people who were lacking and in need of reform.
The reform came in reprimand and in reprimand there was discrimination.
Culture is a mere afterthought. For the sake of economic gain, everything else was deemed irrelevant and counter to the project of growth and development. Once again, we ask, for who and for what?
The paradox of Western modernity is its grand rhetoric of freedom and happiness, which it announces with bravado.
On the ground and in application, it is the opposite of those freedoms and of happiness to which it prides itself on. The bravado is but a whimper.
The scars and the burdens from history are very much present, and have taken varied forms. Some would call them generational trauma, and its manifestations are seen in apprehensions and anxieties unlike any other.
It might be an exaggeration to claim that these afflictions are a residue of our shared colonial past, but it is an exaggeration that seems to slowly turn into a truism, as the days, weeks, months and years go by.
We chase and chase, and are told to compete with one another. The best education, the best positions, the best ways to ensure wealth and status for decades to come, and to be seen as successful by virtue of effort and hard work.
Yet certain privileges are not acknowledged, and certain disparities are cast aside, ignored and eventually forgotten.
To those who are thinking about "race", think again. "Race" is in itself defined by the oppressor, further separating people by the colour of their skin.
The privileges alluded to here is one of indifference. To be indifferent to the past, and to remain indifferent today.
To not think about how the foundations have been laid for our continued subjugation. Our minds and our hearts remain ensnared. The choice with which we have been "given" is exactly that which keeps us chained. Realise this, together.
The writer is a former research assistant for the Political Futures Experts Group at the International Institute of Islamic Thought and Civilisation