This is my village.  My people.  My children.  Mine to control.  Mine to choose and to take and to use.  When the women bear twins, I choose which one will live, and which one will come with me.  I always choose the strongest willed.  Always, the one who might grow to defy me.  I choose that one, and when I stand over it, the shaman cannot see the baby.  Only me.  And he sends the baby to me.
I live off the strong willed children of the village, and I sleep in the bush.  In a man in the bush.  I brought him hear, away from his fields, and his family, and his children.  I brought him to the bush, where I can stay and no one will bother me.
Everything is good.  I eat, I sleep, I own a village.  I have power.

***

I have lost my home.  I lost him to the Americans.  The Americans who live, pale and mysterious, in my village.  They are not rich, so my people stopped begging.  They aren’t like the Brothers, the Brothers from Rio, who always shout Amen and make my people laugh, so my people stopped laughing.  They have medicine, they make jobs, they make letters and writing, so my people stopped shunning.  
Now the Americans are in my village.  Now the Americans have learned about my home.  Now Mr. American comes to my home when I did not bring him here, and he tells me to leave.  He tells me to leave in the name of Jesus, and I have lost my home.
My home is still there.  He is in the bush, waiting.  But I cannot go back.

***

I have lost my food.  I have lost it to the Americans.  The Americans with the medicine in my village.  I picked my child.  I tried to steal the other, too, but the Shaman found out, and tried to get it back.  My people sent for the Americans.  Now Mrs. American knows about my children.  Now Mrs. American tells my people she is a twin.  Now Mrs. American tells my people that neither she nor her sister was evil.  Both are still alive.
Now one of my people is listening to her.  One of my people is giving birth to twins.  And even as I choose the one I want, she takes both the children to Mrs. American.  Now, she is telling Mrs. American she won’t send either one to me, and I have lost my food.
The child is still there.  She lives on a farm, outside the village.  But I cannot get her back.

***

The Americans have a child.  A little American girl, pale and mysterious.  She is growing up.  She is no longer a little girl.  My people see her, and she is a woman.  The Americans see her and she is still a little girl.  The Americans took my home.  They took my food.  I will take their little girl.

***

I stand in the village, where my people can see me.  I stand in the road, where the American girl can see me.  But she can’t see me.  My people run from me, and the American girl can’t see me.  I cannot get to her.  She is not afraid.  I will take that little girl.

***

I will find their house tonight.  Tonight, I am an old man.  I crawl through my village.  I scratch on the doors, I call out to my people to let me in.  I can hear them screaming, I can see them inside their houses.  I move on, until I find the Americans.  
But the Americans do not scream.  The Americans are not at their window.  The Americans are asleep.  I pound on their door.  I will take their little girl.  They do not wake.  They are not afraid.  I will take their little girl!

***

I have lost my village.  I have lost my people to the Americans.  The Americans do not awake and when my people tell them about me, they are not afraid.  They say they have a spirit that is stronger than me.  They say that spirit protects them.  That is why they are not afraid.
My people are listening.  My people want this spirit.  My people are learning the Americans’ letters, and the Americans’ writing, and the Americans’ Bible.  Now they do not shun the family on the farm.  Now they take back the man in the bush.  Now they do not laugh at the Brothers from Rio, and I have lost my village.
My people are still there.  They live in the desert outside the city.  But I cannot get them back.
I cannot eat, I cannot sleep, I own nothing.  I have lost my power.  Nothing is good.