Liberation isn’t just an event, it’s a story we tell each other to remember it’s possible. A war might topple a regime, a law might grant rights, but if no one sees it, if it doesn’t ripple through the collective imagination, it’s just a tree falling in the forest of history. The real work isn’t the act itself; it’s the echo. Without witnesses, even victory is just a footnote. And in the age of algorithms, if the echo doesn’t go viral, did the tree ever make a sound?

How do we even know what liberation is if not for the drumbeat that announces it through the ages.