You Deserve To Take Up

That Her Relationship With Him Was Like Being Content In A House But Always Sitting By The Window And Looking Out

Richard Exhaled. It Was Like Somebody Sprinkling Pepper On His Wound: Thousands Of Biafrans Were Dead, And This Man Wanted To Know If There Was Anything New About One Dead White Man. Richard Would Write About This, The Rule Of Western Journalism: One Hundred Dead Black People Equal To One Dead White Person.

Red Was The Blood Of The Siblings Massacred In The North, Black Was For Mourning Them, Green Was For The Prosperity Biafra Would Have, And, Finally, The Half Of A Yellow Sun Stood For The Glorious Future.

He Was Making Her Feel Small And Absurdly Petulant And, Worse Yet, She Suspected He Was Right. She Always Suspected He Was Right. For A Brief Irrational Moment, She Wished She Could Walk Away From Him. Then She Wished, More Rationally, That She Could Love Him Without Needing Him. Need Gave Him Power Without His Trying; Need Was The Choicelessness She Often Felt Around Him.

Privilege Blinds, Because It's In Its Nature To Blind. Don't Let It Blind You Too Often. Sometimes You Will Need To Push It Aside In Order To See Clearly.