Binti (Binti, #1)

by Nnedi Okorafor

This was the rest of the world and I was finally in it.

Those women talked about me, the men probably did too. But none of them knew what I had, where I was going, who I was. Let them gossip and judge. Thankfully, they knew not to touch my hair again. I don’t like war either.

Ignoring the people I loved was the only way I could keep going.

His anger was rightful, but all that he said was from what he didn’t truly know.

My father said that my curiosity was the last obstacle I had to overcome to be a true master harmonizer. If there was one thing my father and I disagreed on, it was that; I believed I could only be great if I were curious enough to seek greatness.

“You think we are like you humans?” it asked, angrily. “We don’t kill for sport or even for gain. Only for purpose.” I frowned. They sounded like the same thing to me, gain and purpose.

“Tribal”: that’s what they called humans from ethnic groups too remote and “uncivilized”

“All people fear decisive, proud honor,”