Who Fears Death (Who Fears Death, #1)

by Nnedi Okorafor

“A snake is foolish if it dreams of being a lizard.”

“Ewu,” I said slowly. “This is what it means?” I’d never asked. “Born of pain,” she said. “People believe the Ewu-born eventually become violent. They think that an act of violence can only beget more violence. I know this isn’t true, as you should.”

We cried and sobbed and wept and bled tears. But when we were finished, all we could do was continue living.

“Do you believe in Ani?” “No,” I said, matter-of-factly. Ani was supposed to be merciful and loving. Ani wouldn’t have allowed me to exist. I’d never believed in Ani. She was just an expression I was used to using when I was surprised or angry. “Some creator then?” he asked. I nodded. “It is cold and logical.” “Are you willing to allow others the same right to their beliefs?” “If their beliefs don’t hurt others and, when I feel the need, I am allowed call them stupid in my mind, then yes.” “Do you believe it’s your responsibility to leave this world in better shape than when you came into it?” “Yes.” He paused, looking at me more intensely. “Is it better to give or receive?” “They’re the same,” I said. “One can’t exist without the other. But if you keep giving without receiving, you’re a fool.” He chuckled at this. Then he asked, “Can you smell it?” Immediately, I knew what he spoke of. “Yes,” I said. “Strongly.” Fire, ice, iron, flesh, wood, and flowers. The sweat of life. Most of the time I forgot about the smell but I always became aware of it when strange things happened. “Can you taste it?” “Yes,” I said. “If I try.” “Do you choose it?” “No. It chose me long ago.” He nodded. “Then welcome.”

Even back then, I knew that disregarded jealousy eventually turned poisonous.

“My mother once said that fear is like a man who, once burned, is afraid of a glow worm,”

All things can burn, for all things must return to dust.