That Her Relationship With Him Was Like

I Have Chosen To No Longer Be Apologetic For My Femaleness And My Femininity. And I Want To Be Respected In All Of My Femaleness Because I Deserve To Be.

Americans Think African Writers Will Write About The Exotic, About Wildlife, Poverty, Maybe Aids. They Come To Africa And African Books With Certain Expectations.

He Was Already Looking At Their Relationship Through The Lens Of The Past Tense. It Puzzled Her, The Ability Of Romantic Love To Mutate, How Quickly A Loved One Could Become A Stranger. Where Did The Love Go? Perhaps Real Love Was Familial, Somehow, Linked To Blood, Since Love For Children Did Not Die As Romantic Love Did.

Richard Exhaled. It Was Like Somebody Sprinkling Pepper On His Wound: Thousands Of Biafrans Were Dead, And This Man Wanted To Know If There Was Anything New About One Dead White Man. Richard Would Write About This, The Rule Of Western Journalism: One Hundred Dead Black People Equal To One Dead White Person.

Death Would Be A Complete Knowingness, But What Frightened Him Was This: Not Knowing Beforehand What It Was He Would Know.