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496 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2008
Yes, we shall liberate the soil, but we shall never be the masters. The rulers of the future will have white heads on black bodies. When that time comes, the sailors will no longer need boats, because they will have built secure dwellings inside us. Colonialism will inhabit our minds and our bellies, and freedom will be nothing more than a dream.
Moyo doesn't live for the present. Nor does he aspire to the future. Nor distant pasts that he never knew. Maybe he aspires to the justice that inhabits the dreams of poets.