The Lies of the Ajungo (Forever Desert #1)

by Moses Ose Utomi

There are no heroes in the City of Lies.

Even a child deemed a liar could find someone to trust her, Orulu believed.

There are no friends beyond the City of Lies.

Only by learning can you free us.

Tears are precious, his mama always said. Don’t waste them on your enemies. Save them for your friends.

It had been so long since he’d had the freedom to cry. That’s what crying was—freedom. You could only cry when there were no more urgent responsibilities. Only when there was no one watching you who depended on your strength. Only when the people around you wouldn’t take advantage of your tears.

“A man will give ya work and name it a gift.”

“All power has a price, young Tutu,”

You must learn. Only by learning can you free us. There was nothing left for him to learn.

Knowing was everything.

Adults were always scared. They hid it in a million ways—caution or confidence, disinterest or anger, a firm hand or warm embrace or sage advice—but the fear was always there if you knew how to see it.

I’m a child of immigrants, which means I live in two realities. Each is fully real and true and worthy of pride. And in both realities, I’m an outsider, neither at home in Nigerian culture nor American.

“Attack on Titan in North Africa vibez”

Accurate!