The Black Pages (Black Stars, #2)

by Nnedi Okorafor

The man had died like this because of his mouth, not because of the manuscripts for which Timbouctou had become famous.

“Al Capone! Do they really shoot people in the streets there?” Issaka stared at the old woman. Then he looked at the old man, who was also waiting for his response. “I . . .” He trailed off and chuckled. He was tired. “Sometimes. Chicago needs work. But Al Capone was a long time ago.” “Sure, sure, but spirits and djinn always linger when there is something to linger for.”

They seem to want to destroy all things that are about knowledge, history, and free thought.”

“But it is also more than that. They want to erase the history of our people. They want to erase our ancestors. Wipe them all away and replace them with the memory of the Arab. It is a false jihad against the genius of the black African. It is not Islam at all.”