“You’re right,” Diti said quietly. “I . . . I don’t know what’s been happening to me.” She shook her head. “I don’t hate you....but I hate what you are. I hate that whenever I look at you . . . It’s hard for us, Onye. Eleven years of believing that Ewu people are dirty, lowly, violent people. Then we met you and then Mwita. Both of you are the strangest people we’ve ever met.” “Soon, you too will be viewed as low,” I said. “Soon you’ll understand how I feel wherever I go.” But I was conflicted. Diti and Binta were going through something just as I was, as we all were. And I had to respect
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