“Let any one imagine to himself six or seven hundred of these wretches chained two and two, surrounded with every object that is nauseous and disgusting, diseased, and struggling under every kind of wretchedness! How can we bear to think of such a scene as this?” – William Wilberforce (1789)
It would be a complete freedom for some to be enclosed in a box of chocolate. People could certainly live for several weeks, breathing in as much all the aroma of those sweets, and savor every variety of chocolate beside him/her. Box would definitely a sound of heaven.
But during our time, the word box for us Africans sounded like coffin. Today, coffins were fashioned with soft cotton linens, but our boxes were far different and may be called as the most horrible one. We as slaves were placed on different boxes piled like apartments, with manacles around our feet, hands and neck for several days. Food where not as plentiful as air, and sanitation is even rare being practiced. There you could find a bed, a dining table and a toilet fused into a six-sided box, where even sunlight cannot pass through. The last sunset I saw as we were dragged into that filthy ship is the best moment I can remember.
“I was soon put down under the decks, and there I received such a greeting in my nostrils as I had never experienced in my life; so that, with the loathsomeness of the stench, and crying together, I became so sick and low that I was not able to eat, nor had I the least desire to taste anything. I now wished for the last friend, death, to relieve me; but soon, to my grief, two of the white men offered me eatables; and, on my refusing to eat, one of them held me fast by the hands, and laid me across, I think, the windlass, and tied my feet, while the other flogged me severely.”
-The Life of Olaudah Equiano the African (1789)
I hope those moments could be left on those box, but before, they were on hunting me every time I close my eyes. Nightmares of disgust, painful agony and shrieking cries of solitude, hunger and thirst. Whenever I see my freed hands, I saw the chains on them, the heavy metals of slavery pulling me down.
I believe all of us have boxes of slavery. Despite that we are already bought to freedom, we still keep on weighing the heavy chains around our neck, feeling every clicking of connected links as it pierced heavily on our flesh. Its grip maybe gone, but we still feel its pain as if its still there. We never move on. We choose not to move on.
14 “Since these children are people with physical bodies, Jesus himself became like them. He did this so that, by dying, he could destroy the one who has the power of death—the devil—15 and free those who were like slaves all their lives because of their fear of death.” Hebrews 2:14-15 (New Century Version)
Sin locked us to our boxes. Made us blind, and not seeing the true freedom. But the Son of God poured His blood to unbolt our chains and gave us the liberty from every kind of enslavement. Now, it is our choice if we want to step out of our boxes or opt to remain inside it. To move forward or still linger in the abode of torment and excruciating dwelling place of our past.
Where are your boxes?
Do you still keep them?
If yes, then this is the time for you to get the blazing fire of the Holy Spirit and burn them completely. For when we repent, As far as east is to west so far have our sins been removed from us.
“For the law of the Spirit of life [which is] in Christ Jesus [the law of our new being] has freed me from the law of sin and of death.” Romans 8:2 (Amplified Bible)
I was blind, but now I see…..that I am free.
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