makoye2009
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- Jun 12, 2009
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The I Have a Dream Speech
http://www.addthis.com/bookmark.php?v=250&username=steve802
[SIZE=-2]http://www.usconstitution.net/constads.html[/SIZE]
The following is the edited text of the spoken speech "I have a Dream" by Martin Luther King Jr, transcribed from recordings. I have related this Dream to our current situation here in Tanzania:
I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.
A bout fifty years ago, a great Tanzanian, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Tanzanians who had been seared in the flames of withering poverty. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their poverty.
But after these fifty years later, the Tanzanian still is not free. Fifty years later, the life of the Tanzanian is still sadly crippled by the manacles of poverty and the chains of illiteracy. Fifty years later, the Tanzanian lives on a lonely Country of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. Fifty years later, the Tanzanian is still languishing in the corners of Tanzania society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.
In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every Tanzanian was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
It is obvious today that Tanzania has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, Tanzania has given the Tanzanian people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind Tanzania of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of poverty and illiteracy to a solid rock of wealth. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.
It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Tanzanian's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. The year 2010 is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Tanzanian needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in Tanzania until every Tanzanian is granted his rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue every corner to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.
But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.
We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Tanzania community must not lead us to a distrust of all people, for many of our black brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.
As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Tanzanian is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of poverty and injutice. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating "For Whites Only". We cannot be satisfied as long as a Tanzanian in Dar cannot vote and another Tanzanian in Mwanza believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of poverty. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.
Go back to Mtwara, go back to Mwanza, go back to Southern Highlands, go back to Arusha, go back to Dodoma, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.
I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the Tanzanian dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."
I have a dream that one day on the green hills of Arusha the sons of former civil servants and the sons of former peasants will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the region of Mwanza, a state sweltering with the heat of poverty, sweltering with the heat of iliteracy, will be transformed into an oasis of richness and a true democracy.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the political party they belong but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day, down in Shinyanga, with its vicious killing of wizards, with its RC having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Tarime, little Nyabasi boys and Nyabasi girls will be able to join hands with little Nyanchori boys and Nyanchori girls as sisters and brothers.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.
This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the North with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of wealthness. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to business together, to stand up for democracy together, knowing that we will be free from poverty one day.
This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let democracy ring."
And if Tanzania is to be a great nation this must become true. So let democracy ring from the prodigious hilltops of Mwanza. Let democracy ring from the mighty mountain of Kilimanjaro Let democracy ring from the heightening Southern Highlands!
Let democracy ring from the snowcapped Uhuru Peak of Kibo!
Let democracy ring from the curvaceous slopes of Serengeti!
But t only that; let democracy ring from Usambara Mountains!
Let democracy ring from Lookout Rock Mount of Mwanza!
Let democracy ring from every hill and rock. From every mountainside, let democracy ring.
And when this happens, when we allow Democracy to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every region and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and coloured men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Tanzania spiritual, "Democracy at last! democracy at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"
http://www.addthis.com/bookmark.php?v=250&username=steve802
[SIZE=-2]http://www.usconstitution.net/constads.html[/SIZE]
The following is the edited text of the spoken speech "I have a Dream" by Martin Luther King Jr, transcribed from recordings. I have related this Dream to our current situation here in Tanzania:
I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.
A bout fifty years ago, a great Tanzanian, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Tanzanians who had been seared in the flames of withering poverty. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their poverty.
But after these fifty years later, the Tanzanian still is not free. Fifty years later, the life of the Tanzanian is still sadly crippled by the manacles of poverty and the chains of illiteracy. Fifty years later, the Tanzanian lives on a lonely Country of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. Fifty years later, the Tanzanian is still languishing in the corners of Tanzania society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.
In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every Tanzanian was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
It is obvious today that Tanzania has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, Tanzania has given the Tanzanian people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind Tanzania of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of poverty and illiteracy to a solid rock of wealth. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.
It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Tanzanian's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. The year 2010 is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Tanzanian needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in Tanzania until every Tanzanian is granted his rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue every corner to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.
But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.
We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Tanzania community must not lead us to a distrust of all people, for many of our black brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.
As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Tanzanian is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of poverty and injutice. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating "For Whites Only". We cannot be satisfied as long as a Tanzanian in Dar cannot vote and another Tanzanian in Mwanza believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of poverty. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.
Go back to Mtwara, go back to Mwanza, go back to Southern Highlands, go back to Arusha, go back to Dodoma, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.
I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the Tanzanian dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."
I have a dream that one day on the green hills of Arusha the sons of former civil servants and the sons of former peasants will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the region of Mwanza, a state sweltering with the heat of poverty, sweltering with the heat of iliteracy, will be transformed into an oasis of richness and a true democracy.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the political party they belong but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day, down in Shinyanga, with its vicious killing of wizards, with its RC having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Tarime, little Nyabasi boys and Nyabasi girls will be able to join hands with little Nyanchori boys and Nyanchori girls as sisters and brothers.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.
This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the North with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of wealthness. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to business together, to stand up for democracy together, knowing that we will be free from poverty one day.
This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let democracy ring."
And if Tanzania is to be a great nation this must become true. So let democracy ring from the prodigious hilltops of Mwanza. Let democracy ring from the mighty mountain of Kilimanjaro Let democracy ring from the heightening Southern Highlands!
Let democracy ring from the snowcapped Uhuru Peak of Kibo!
Let democracy ring from the curvaceous slopes of Serengeti!
But t only that; let democracy ring from Usambara Mountains!
Let democracy ring from Lookout Rock Mount of Mwanza!
Let democracy ring from every hill and rock. From every mountainside, let democracy ring.
And when this happens, when we allow Democracy to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every region and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and coloured men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Tanzania spiritual, "Democracy at last! democracy at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"
