We Need New Names

by NoViolet Bulawayo

When somebody talks about home, you have to listen carefully so you know exactly which one the person is referring to.

In America we saw more food than we had seen in all our lives and we were so happy we rummaged through the dustbins of our souls to retrieve the stained, broken pieces of God.

Because we were not in our country, we could not use our own languages, and so when we spoke our voices came out bruised.

We dropped our heads because we were no longer people; we were now illegals.