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320 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2010
1989 was not a good year to fall in love – at least not in South Africa, and certainly not with a white man.
He was an Afrikaner, and he knew his place. He was white; Chioma was coloured. Nothing else needed to be said.
Chioma - She thought of her name and wondered, as she had so many times through the years, why her parents had labeled her so inappropriately. She could understand Masozi’s name, as tears were a familiar phenomenon to her people. But Chioma – “God is great”? She nearly snorted with contempt. If there was anything great about the gods, she had yet to see it, and certainly didn’t expect to any time soon.
I have come to the sad conclushen that sometimes vilence is warented.