The Odyssey of a Black Woman Married to a White Man in Mauritania
Homelessness is a pain so deep that it cuts through your soul like machine cuts through glass, so smooth and so fast, leaving a gaping wound, blood and all parts of you scattered on the ground. I never wanted to go to Mauritania but my ex husband, an American convinced me to do so because anything that looked white was a target in Nigeria and a good catch for ransome. For most black criminals, all whites are rich so we decided to leave in a country that was affordable and he could study Arabic since we were both muslim converts but along the way, our fairy tale romance turned to tales of narrcissim, lies and the desire for my white ex to have a black wife who worshipped him like white was the color of God. I was tired of the abuse so divorce was a relief as long as I could get my deferred islamic dowry and buy a flight ticket back to Lagos; to the dreary home of my family but home no matter how tattered will always be home especially when it contained my nine year old son who was to jo...
