Editorial - A handful of random thoughts on Freedom
Jan Nicolaas Kind – Brazil

Thought – One
I vividly remember how my dear mother, in the early 1950’s when I was a child of 5 or 6, would hold and firmly squeeze my hand while walking across busy streets with traffic in the centre of Amsterdam. It was that sort of feeling you get as a child, that your mum wants to take care of you in a potentially dangerous situation. The squeezing I had instinctively taken for granted, but there was one particular street near the Royal Palace and Dam square, called the Raadhuisstraat (English: Town Hall street) where, if we went across there, the squeezing increased to an almost intolerable level. A few years later, I must have been around 7 or 8 years old, and after I had repeatedly asked my mother why the squeezing on that particular street always seemed to increase, she took the time – and had the courage – to tell me why.









