Danai and I decided that when we grew up, we would work for MuIndia rather than the white madam. We spoke of him in one breath as MuIndia waMainin‘Juliana, and talked of him as intimately as we did the members of our very large family, wondering at the peculiar singularity of his ways, his refusal to advance salaries even when there was illness, his habit of picking his nose when he thought that no one was looking, the leftover Zambia cloth and bent out of shape Kango plates and cups with missing handles that he gave Juliana and his other assistant, Timothy, as Christmas bonuses, the yellow plastic comb that he tucked behind his ear and next to his hair, and his house in Belvedere, which we pronounced Bharabhadiya.” (p. 177)
There are several places in this world that I never want to visit. Some because they’re too cold, some because they’re too dangerous for my taste, many because of the way women are treated there and many because of the hostile way gays are treated. Several of these places fall in more than one of the groups, giving me an even better reason to stay away.
These days several countries in Africa seem determined to make it even less tempting for me to spend my money there.
I really can’t understand this fierce hatred against me and anyone else who happens to love a person of their own gender. It’s scary. Facing such hatred, even if it is on video and I’m lucky enough to be in a country where I’m mostly safe from these people, makes me feel a bit green around the gills.
I will encourage everyone to make sure that the organizations they support works for openess, secular education, human rights and laws that protects and ensures equal rights for women and gays all over the world.