officer had examined my foodstuffs as if they were spiders, her gloved fingers poking at the waterproof bags of ground egusi and dried onugbu leaves and uziza seeds,
Naiasbooksцитираминалата година
while the American customs officer raked through my suitcase had left me woozy,
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Ukamaka, not everything is about Udenna.”
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Somebody once told me that I am the straightest gay person she knew
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You looked too gentle to be Nigerian
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Only God can save our country.”
Us. Our country. Those words united them in a common loss, and for a moment she felt close to him.
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as if she needed to know the details of his morning ritual, that he listened to BBC News online because there was never anything of substance in American news.
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I am Nigerian. I live on the third floor. I came so that we can pray about what is happening in our country.
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The knock surprised her because nobody ever came to her door unannounced—this after all was America, where people called before they visited
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On the day a plane crashed in Nigeria, the same day the Nigerian first lady died,