Like all border crossings in Africa, a feeling of apprehension and vulnerability takes over. You remain polite and smile, filling in the paperwork while handing over crisp new United States dollars. As you pass immigration, your eyes scan the local surroundings, watching for hawkers and money changers. Knowing boarders are crime hot spots, you secure your belongings and empty your pockets, preparing yourself for any eventuality. As you wait to be processed outside a small wooden shack, a local approaches asking where you are from. He asks why Mzungus come and take all the jobs. He asks why the English enslaved the Tanzanian people. He says the English aren’t welcome here. He asked how I would feel if he took out the slave trade on me, right here, right now! Surrounded and outnumbered, I felt intimidated,
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