The journey is littered with burnt out tanks.  In the early nineteen hundreds the Italians came.  They built roads and bridges and beautiful art deco buildings all over Eritrea.  They also Read more [...]

It is a marvel to see these people, my people. I see my shape of face in the men everywhere and I see the face of my mother, my sisters and brothers, my aunts and uncles and my father. It’s a beautiful thing. The sun is relentless, darkening my skin as I marvel at our likeness. Soon enough I am darkened into one of my own people and become as unnoticeable as I have always wanted to be. Read more [...]