Death of the Author

by Nnedi Okorafor

We cannot escape our creators. I keep saying this. You can’t erase that which made you.

moving from a small grave to a bigger one?

maybe something in our blood made us love the land, the people, the cultures, the traditions, unconditionally.

“I feel satisfied, but also not. It reminds me of myself, but it is not about me. I feel like I’ve met those I have never met. I’m thinking things I never thought before.