For years I met people who were kind and curious and completely wrong about Africa. They would ask me questions with the best intentions and the worst information. Their picture of my continent came from thirty-yearold news clips and sad charity adverts played between television shows. Nobody had ever shown them the other picture. Nobody had shown them the glass towers rising over the Indian Ocean, the electric train gliding at one hundred and sixty kilometres an hour, the rooftop bars full of laughing people in beautiful clothes, the white sand beaches that make the postcards of the Caribbean look ordinary.
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