2

2 Nzinga really did look spectacular when she walked in the door of Amma's room in Freedomia she was at least six foot tall with ornamented dreadlocks, large wooden Akuaba fertility doll earrings, red trousers, a cream embroidered caftan and strappy Roman sandals she was somewhat older than them, yet somehow appeared ageless

Amma noted how the force of her presence had the effect of diminishing everyone else's before she arrived, her guests wanted to like Nzinga because they liked Dominique, now she was here, they wanted to impress her Amma wanted Nzinga to prove herself worthy of Dominique's love Nzinga sat cross-legged in the circle of women on the floor where the meal was to take place (Amma found the idea of a dining table too suburban) vegetable casserole with sweet potato, salads and brown loaves were spread out before them on a plastic tablecloth (everything was from the budget supermarket, nothing was organic or fresh, who could tell once vegetables were cooked or chopped, and how dare Nzinga demand everyone eat according to her preferences) the conversation was lively, everybody wanted to talk to Nzinga who'd been afforded a gravitas she hadn't earned, Amma thought, simply by looking like a swamp-diva-voodoo-queen Nzinga lapped up the attention, was friendly, no magnanimous, with everyone, until she ruined it by exclaiming, somewhat scornfully, how weird it was to hear so many black women sounding so Britissshhh Amma thought she was accusing them of being too white or at best, in- authentically black, she'd come across it before, foreigners equating an English accent with whiteness, she always felt the need to speak up when it was implied that black Brits were inferior to African-Americans or Africans or West Indians in any case, it might explain why Dominique had adopted an American lilt in the short period of time she'd been with Nzinga (oh Dominique!) that's because we are, Amma replied, British, all of us are, right? yet she was instinctively aware that to challenge Nzinga wasn't wise Nzinga didn't miss a beat in replying that black women need to identify racism wherever we find it, especially our own internalized racism, when we're filled with such a deep self-loathing we turn against our own it struck Amma that this woman could be a formidable opponent, the energy that had hitherto radiated warmth had quickly turned radioactive Dominique, usually an opinionated loudmouth, was oblivious to the bilateral tensions in the room – two alpha females about to go nuclear she sat purring at her beloved's side

we have to be vigilant, Nzinga said to the gathered women who seemed hypnotized by her, we must be careful who we allow into our lives, she said, now staring at Amma with open hostility, there are women among us who've been sent to destroy us, internalized racism is everywhere, my friends (her friends?) we have to be vigilant about everything, and everyone point made, she then proceeded to ignore Amma we have to be vigilant with our language, too, she continued, have you noticed that the word black, for example, always has negative connotations? heads nodded, to Amma's dismay, what was the matter with them? Nzinga then launched into the racial implications of stepping on a black doormat rather than over it, of not wearing black socks (why would you step on your own people?), and don't ever use black garbage bags, she instructed, as for blackmail, blackball, black mood, black magic, black sheep, black-hearted, I never wear black underpants, for example, why crap on myself? I'm surprised you all don't know this already there were more nods, Amma kept flashing Dominique looks, is she serious? are you serious? except Dominique was too preoccupied lapping up this codswallop Amma had had enough, she alone would have to deal with this woman, seeing as everyone else's brains had turned to mush that's not a problem for me, she said, because guess what, I've not crapped my pants since I stopped wearing nappies as a kid there was a detectable ripple of suppressed laughter in the room, great! she was breaking Nzinga's spell, who was livid, this is no time for cheap jokes, Amma, I think you need to listen to Bob Marley's 'Redemption Song' and emancipate yourself from mental slavery Amma considered thanking Nzinga for informing her she was mentally enslaved, and told her that African peoples were referred to as black long after the word made its appearance in the English language, so it makes no sense to retroactively impose racist connotations on to its everyday usage, and if you do, you're going to drive yourself mad and, I'm sorry to say, everyone else with you I'm surprised you don't know this already it took Nzinga under a minute to make her excuses, Dominique in tow Amma was pleased to see the back of the awful Cindy

the old Dominique would have done the same in her position the new Dominique had become gullible to every piece of shit the voodoo queen spouted how on earth had this happened? Amma hoped the Nzinga phase would end when the woman returned to America she was returning to America, wasn't she? at the end of their summer of love, Dominique (cowardly) told Amma on the phone she'd been issued with an ultimatum by Nzinga, either she goes to the US with her, or we go our separate ways, I don't do long distance, daaarlin' Amma told her she was crazy, don't go with that woman, Dominique, don't go but having found real love, Dominique followed it to America.