Home (Binti, #2)

by Nnedi Okorafor

A person who looked like a two-foot-tall version of a praying mantis clicked its powerful forelegs. In a sonorous voice, it said, “Humans. Always performing.”

“I will wash this off soon,” it said. “It’s not good to feel this pleased with life.”

“Even a masquerade has its people, only a ghost wanders alone,”

I remember thinking, The gods are many things.

Now here I was walking into the desert with the Desert People. How different my life would have been if my parents had just let me dance.