Speak Up, For Your Lips Are Yet Free

Speak up, for your lips are yet free;

Speak up, your tongue is still yours…” — Faiz Ahmed Faiz

There comes a time in history when silence is no longer neutral. When neutrality itself becomes a weapon of oppression. When choosing to remain silent is not rationale but complicity. We live in such times. In a world wobbling under the weight of injustice, persecution, and systemic oppression, the sacred act of speaking up is more than expression—it is defiance, it is resistance, and it is redemption.

We were not born to be mum witnesses to tyranny. We were not created to be indifferent observers of others’ agony. We were made to feel, to respond, to stand, and above all, to speak. This is not just a piece of writing. It is a call to awaken your conscience, to ignite your voice, and to remind you that your silence may comfort you temporarily, but it may cost someone else their life, their dignity, their hope and their liberty.

History remembers voices, not echoes.

The world’s most transformational figures—Martin Luther King Jr., Nelson Mandela, etc.—did not come from positions of power. What they had was a voice that refused to be silenced. They spoke when it was perilous. They resisted when it was easier to bow. They stood with the oppressed even when it meant standing alone. Your voice, no matter how small it feels, carries the power to disturb the sleep of oppressors and awaken the spirit of the oppressed. It is not about volume; it is about conviction. A whisper for justice is louder than a scream for tyranny.

The Silence That Kills

Silence is seductive. It is safe. It makes no foes. It draws no lines. But silence in the face of injustice is not peacekeeping—it is soul-selling. When we choose silence as innocent children are bombed in their homes, as women are stripped of dignity, as minorities are lynched for their beliefs, one community is radically targeted, we are not merely avoiding conflict. We are allowing evil to breathe, to grow, to normalize.

As Elie Wiesel, a Holocaust survivor, in his book ‘Night’ says:

“Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.”

To be silent is to deny your own humanity and sanity. Because the moment we stop reacting to another’s torture is the moment we lose our right to call ourselves human.

Standing by the Oppressed

To stand with the oppressed is to choose discomfort over apathy, courage over convenience.It means speaking when it shakes your relationships, your job, even your safety. It means saying no when the majority chants yes. It means putting values above tribes, principles above parties, and truth above comfort.Every act of solidarity sends ripples through the universe.

When you stand by a child shivering in a refugee camp, when you defend the rights of a minority denied justice, when you raise your voice for a woman beaten into silence—you are not just supporting an individual. You are strengthening the very foundation of humanity.Do not wait until the injustice knocks on your own door. Do not wait until you see your own kids being slaughtered. By then, there might be no one left to speak for you.

Resist the Oppressor—Even if He Wears Familiar Skin

The real test of character is not in standing against distant tyrants, but in resisting the familiar ones. The ones that look like us. The ones that share our language, our faith, our race, or even our family tree. Nepotism, favoritism, and blind loyalty to kin or group—these are the poisons that have paralyzed justice for centuries. When we defend the wrongdoer because he hails from our “side,” we betray the very meaning of justice.

It is easy to raise a fist at the outsider, but noble to raise your voice against a friend or leader when they cross the line of morality. Truth has no religion. Justice has no party. Humanity has no group. If you must choose between your tribe and the truth—choose truth and righteousness. Every time. As Theodore Roosevelt once said,

“If I must choose between righteousness and peace, I choose righteousness”.

Principles Over Personalities

We are often told to be loyal—loyal to leaders, to ideologies, to nations. But what we really need is loyalty to principles.Leaders may fall. Ideologies may fade. Nations may falter. But principles endure.Speak not for men, but for the values they must be held accountable to. Stand not for flags, but for the freedom they must symbolize. Defend not the authority, but the abused. Protect not tradition, but the truth.When we pledge ourselves to values—like justice, compassion, equality—we create a world where people matter more than positions, where conscience is not up for negotiation, and where revolutions are born not from anger, but from moral clarity.

Your Voice as a Movement

You may wonder, “What can my voice change?” Everything. Every movement that ever reshaped the world began with one person who refused to be silent. One voice sparked millions. One question shattered empires.When you speak, you give others permission to speak. When you stand, you show others they can stand. When you say “no” to oppression, you inspire others to do the same. That is how revolutions are born—not always with blood, but with words. Don’t underestimate the power of your voice. In a dark room, even a candle can be blinding. You might be someone’s only light.

Fostering a Culture of Debate and Dissent

We must not only speak—we must listen. We must build a culture where disagreement is not division, where debate is not disrespect, where dissent is not disloyalty. The healthiest societies are those where people can question power without fear, challenge norms without exile, and hold leaders accountable without retaliation. Debate is the heartbeat of democracy. Dissent is the oxygen of progress. Let us raise a generation that doesn’t fear speaking the truth, even if it trembles. Let us create spaces—classrooms, homes, communities—where young people are taught not what to think, but how to think.

The Price of Courage and the Reward of Legacy

Yes, speaking up has a price. You may lose friends. You may face threats. You may feel alone. But what is the price of silence? A compromised soul. A legacy of regret. A world where evil grows because good people did nothing. And what is the reward of speaking up? A clean conscience. A life of purpose. A legacy that whispers to the next generation: “Be brave. It matters.”

In a nutshell, as long as your lips can speak, you have a duty. Speak for those buried under rubble. Speak for the abused, the forgotten, the silenced. Speak for justice—not just for your people—but for all people. Speak not for popularity but for principle. Speak even when your voice shakes. Because one day, your lips will no longer be free. Time will silence them. But if you’ve used them to tell the truth, they will echo long after you are gone. And in that echo, a thousand voices will rise.