Being an old farm boy myself, chickens coming home to roost never

Hear the voice of Malcolm X, sharp as iron, yet rooted in the soil of memory: “Being an old farm boy myself, chickens coming home to roost never did make me sad; they’ve always made me glad.” At first these words appear simple, drawn from the life of a boy who knew the rhythm of barns and fields. Yet they are more than farming wisdom; they are a parable of justice, a declaration that every deed returns to its source, and that consequences, whether bitter or sweet, cannot be escaped.

On the farm, the boy learns this truth early. The chickens wander out in the morning, scratching and pecking, scattering across the yard. But when the sun falls, they return unfailingly to the coop. What was sent out in the light always comes back in the dark. So too it is with human actions. Words, choices, and deeds, whether righteous or cruel, scatter into the world, but in time they return to the one who set them loose. To Malcolm X, this was not cause for sorrow—it was a cause for gladness, for it meant the world was not without order. It meant justice, delayed though it may be, was still sure.

The ancients themselves spoke in similar wisdom. The Greeks taught of Nemesis, goddess of retribution, who ensured that hubris and evil-doing would never escape their due. In the East, sages spoke of karma, the law that every action plants a seed which in time must grow and bear fruit. Malcolm X, with the plain speech of a farm boy, echoes these same truths: that the world is not chaos, but bound by cause and effect. To rejoice when the chickens come home to roost is to rejoice that truth and consequence still govern life.

Consider the history of empires. Rome, in its arrogance, sowed violence in conquered lands. For centuries, the spoils of war flowed back to the city, but in time, the seeds of greed and cruelty returned home: rebellion, corruption, and collapse. So too did colonial powers, who oppressed nations abroad, later face the unrest and resistance of those they sought to dominate. These are the chickens, returning to the roost, bringing the harvest of the deeds that were sown. Malcolm X’s words remind us that this return is not tragedy, but inevitability, and even a form of divine justice.

Yet his saying carries also a personal edge. For him, who had witnessed oppression and violence against his people, the sight of consequences falling upon the oppressors was not sad. It was not cruelty that made him glad, but the recognition that the world had not abandoned balance—that what is sown must one day be reaped. To see this, even in painful ways, is to know that justice is not asleep, but moving, slow though it may seem.

The lesson for us is profound. Each word we speak, each action we take, each seed we plant in the lives of others will one day return to us. This should not fill us with dread, but with responsibility. Sow kindness, and kindness will return. Sow cruelty, and cruelty will come home to roost. The wisdom of the farm boy is the wisdom of life itself: we cannot scatter darkness and expect light to return. The harvest will always reflect the seed.

Therefore, practical action follows. Let each person examine what they sow. In speech, choose honesty; in labor, choose fairness; in relationships, choose compassion. Do not believe your actions vanish into nothingness—they will circle back, just as the flock does at dusk. And when you see justice unfolding in the world, do not despair, but take it as a reminder of the law that binds us all. The chickens always return, whether for joy or for sorrow.

Thus Malcolm X, with the strength of a prophet and the simplicity of a farm boy, gave a truth that transcends time. To him, the return of deeds was never cause for grief, but for recognition, for balance, for hope. For the world is not without order, and every act finds its way home. Let us then live as if every action will knock again at our door—for in truth, it will. And if we live with justice, with courage, and with love, then when the chickens come home to roost, we too shall be glad.