““I saw how you looked at us,” he said. “Just like every Himba I have ever encountered, like we’re savages. You call us the ‘Desert People,’ mysterious uncivilized dark people of the sand.” I wanted to deny my prejudice, but he was right. “Despite the fact that you’re darker like us, have the crown like us, have our blood,” he said. “I wonder how surprised you were when you saw that we could speak your language as well as our three languages. ‘Desert People.’ Do you even know the actual name of our tribe?” I shook my head, slowly. “We’re the Enyi Zinariya,” he said. “No, I won’t translate that for you.””
