When I was a child,
I was taught how to be a boy.
My first lesson was
pain
is just another word,
for excuse.
My second lesson was in
silence.
I didn’t have it,
so they gave it to me.
They tugged on the flesh
where my tongue used to be
until all I taste is black.
I wait for permission.
They let go.
I ask,
what is next?
My face is a painting of colours.
I learn my place,
is in silence.
My third lesson was in
restraint.
I didn’t have it,
so they beat it into me.
I learned to accept
suffering.
They tug on the flesh
where my tongue used to be
until all I taste is
dry flesh scrapping asphalt.
I wait for permission.
At night,
I wake up in hot sweats.
I want to scream.
But I don’t have permission.
I have silence.
I have only ever had
silence.
They tear the flesh
where my tongue used to be
until all I taste is
broken pieces.
I wait for permission.
In silence.
About the author
Ahmed Yussuf is a Melbourne based freelance journalist and founder of race and politics podcast, Race Card.