Coconut

Sigh… The only thing I can stifle out of me as I read the closing lines of this novel. Is that it? Is this all it boils down to? No matter which side of the track we are born and raised on, will the black child forever be disatisfied with being black? Will white always be a disposition we strive for? Will their soft hair and pale skin and their twang always be better?Surely, we have evolved! Surely we love ourselves just a little bit…

Matlwa paints a very bleek picture of the African child. I’m disappointed…