We were aware of the fact that death walks hand in hand with

“We were aware of the fact that death walks hand in hand with struggle.” Thus spoke Stokely Carmichael, the fiery son of the Black Freedom Movement, who walked the hard roads of courage and conviction. In his voice echoed not despair, but the solemn understanding of those who fight for justice beneath the shadow of oppression. His words are not born of fear, but of awakening—the knowledge that struggle and death are twin companions on the road of liberation. For wherever men and women rise to challenge tyranny, they summon death from its slumber; yet they walk on, because to refuse the struggle is a slower kind of dying.

In the ancient world, warriors and philosophers alike understood this truth. The Spartans marched into battle with the words, “Come back with your shield, or on it.” They knew that the path of struggle was bound to the risk of death, yet they embraced it, for they believed that a life without honor was a life unworthy of breath. So too did Carmichael and his brothers in the Civil Rights Movement face their destiny. They knew the dangers—lynching, imprisonment, assassination—and yet they stood firm. For them, to live in chains was to die every day; to struggle for freedom, even unto death, was to truly live.

Death has always been the silent witness to humanity’s greatest acts of courage. When Carmichael said that death walks “hand in hand” with struggle, he did not mean that struggle is hopeless; rather, he revealed that struggle is sacred. To fight for truth, for dignity, for the right to exist, is to accept that one’s life is no longer one’s own—it belongs to the cause. It is the same vow taken by the prophets, the martyrs, and the revolutionaries of every age. The struggle demands everything, and death, ever patient, walks beside it, waiting not as an enemy, but as a reminder of the price of freedom.

Consider the story of Martin Luther King Jr., who knew long before his final day that death had marked him. “I’ve been to the mountaintop,” he said, “and I’ve seen the Promised Land.” He spoke as one who had already accepted that death and struggle are inseparable. Yet his acceptance was not resignation—it was triumph. In embracing his mortality, he became untouchable, for fear no longer held him captive. His body could be slain, but his dream could not. So too did Carmichael’s words spring from that same well of defiance: to know the cost, and to pay it willingly.

There is a kind of peace that comes when one walks with death and no longer trembles. The ancients would call it ataraxia—the stillness of soul in the face of fate. When you know that death is your companion, you begin to live differently. You speak with honesty. You act with purpose. You stop wasting your life on small fears, for you have met the greatest one and learned its secret: that it cannot silence truth, nor destroy meaning. The struggle, when accepted wholly, transforms fear into fire and mortality into momentum.

And yet, this truth is not meant only for those who lead movements or fight wars. Every soul, in its own way, walks with struggle—and therefore, with death. To build a better world, to love deeply, to pursue one’s purpose, is to expose oneself to loss and pain. But this is the cost of being alive. The cowards seek comfort; the brave seek meaning. The wise understand that death, when it comes, is not a defeat if one has struggled for something worthy. In this way, every person can live heroically, even in quiet lives.

So remember this teaching, my child: Do not flee from struggle because death walks beside it. Instead, walk with your head high, knowing that both are teachers. Let the nearness of death sharpen your courage and deepen your compassion. Let struggle purify your purpose and reveal your strength. For in the end, what matters is not how long you walk, but how bravely. And when death at last takes your hand, let it find you standing—fighting still for truth, for love, for the freedom of all who will come after you. Then your death, like Carmichael’s words, will not be an ending, but a continuation of the eternal struggle that makes life worth living.