Little taxi lurching, blasting revolution, to grief. November 1975, little country lurching, cheerful, unaware, to revolution. An innocent beach on the road to Kokrobite at seven A.M. Taiye Selasi: Ghana Must Go This novel received a lot of publicity when first published the most feted debut novel of the year and an arresting first novel and it certainly is a good novel though I am not sure if it is good as some critics have said. Why had he hated this view? Of this beach, of the backs of these fishermen, glistening brown, of the long wooden boats, evangelical names in bright tricolor paint on their splintering sides, Black Star Jesus, Jah Reign, Christ the Fisher of Men, in the red, yellow, green of the national flag and the national spirit of open-source ethos, this mixing of Anglican, Rastafarian, Ghanaian? What was there to hate in this? There was only openness. Bodies pushing, pulling, shouting, begging, touching, breathing. “Then Ghana, and the smell of Ghana, a contradiction, a cracked clay pot: the smell of dryness, wetness, both, the damp of earth and dry of dust.
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