just that unbearable.
Once Mandela was elected we
could finally live freely. Exiles
started to return. I met my first one
when I was around seventeen. He
told me his story, and I was like,
“Wait, what? You mean we could
have left? That was an option?”
Imagine being thrown out of an
airplane. You hit the ground and
break all your bones, you go to the
hospital and you heal and you move
on and finally put the whole thing
behind you—and then one day
somebody tells you about
parachutes. That’s how I felt. I
couldn’t understand why we’d