I Didn't Know I Was Even Supposed

I’m Very Feminist In The Way I Look At The World, And That Worldview Must Somehow Be Part Of My Work.

The Only Reason Race Matters Is Because Of Racism.

The Novels I Love, The Ones I Remember, The Ones I Re-read, Have An Empathetic Human Quality, Or 'emotional Truth'. This Quality Is Difficult To Fully Define, But I Always Recognise It When I See It: It Is Different From Honesty And More Resilient Than Fact, Something That Exists Not In The Kind Of Fiction That Explains But In The Kind That Shows.

It Is Easy To Romanticize Poverty, To See Poor People As Inherently Lacking Agency And Will. It Is Easy To Strip Them Of Human Dignity, To Reduce Them To Objects Of Pity. This Has Never Been Clearer Than In The View Of Africa From The American Media, In Which We Are Shown Poverty And Conflicts Without Any Context.

At Some Point I Was A Happyafricanfeminist Who Does Not Hate Men. And Who Likes Lip Gloss And Who Wears High Heels For Herself But Not For Men.