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I looked from my husband to his daughter, fifteen years old to my twenty-seven.
Life had made her whip-smart and fearless, with flashing eyes the color of the Guadalupe in sunlight. She was starting a new life here, with nothing but us as her anchors. Suddenly I wondered: was this what being a mother was like?The week she started eighth grade, she sent me a text: Omg Katie there’s someone here shooting please come get me.Even now, the edges of my vision blur when I remember it. And even when I let it out of my chest, it wasn’t love. Telling someone you love them doesn’t mean that you do.Around us, white lights twinkled from the branches of thick heritage oaks.
It’s the time of year when Nkqinqa, 18, and about 50,000 other South African boys, come to one of the many remote initiation schools in order to learn how to be a man.