Zenzele

Zenzele, by J. Mozipo Naraire, takes the form of a letter from a mother to her daughter, as the daughter is about to leave her childhood home of Zimbabwe and travel to the US for the first time for school. It's been an interesting read, very different and yet similar to Eat, Pray, Love. A passage I ran across today while waiting in the dentist chair, a story told by the mother's mother to her which the mother is now passing along to the daughter:
"Shiri [a pet name for the mother], at the end of the day you will meet only two men in your life: One will make your hands tremble; the other will make them steady. The first will be your passion of youth, but like the blazing fires of the bush, it will soon die to glowing embers, then cool ashes. The second will enter your life quietly, like a thief in the night. He will be like the mighty trees in the forest that we don not see before us, yet they are there, strong and tall; in rain and sun, they dig their roots deep and shade us with their leaves. It is the second one who you must marry. He will be a good husband and father to your children."

Another passage, when the daughter asks the mother, "What do you think it means to be an African woman?" (and I think this can apply to any woman):
"It is to be strong, Zenzele. It is to be at peace within. You must always listen to that inner voice and not permit others to drown it out. It is to measure your words; to balance your works with your gifts carefully; it is in some ways to be selfless, to serve others yet to know and defend your rights to the bitter end."