Freedom to me means my father coming back from work just in time for dinner,
And, this time around, smiling and greeting us with hugs and kisses.
Not badging in, breathing heavily, looking like he had just escaped the
jaws of death, with fear in his eyes and covered in blood and sweat.
Being able to eat dinner with no fear of the police kicking down the door
of our little shack, scattering our last bits of food all over the
floor and walking through them.
This is what freedom really means to me!