The man at the desk took my passport. He did not speak to me. He took a rubber stamp and slammed it down. Then he walked away. I picked up my passport. It was stamped 'Invalid'. 'They have done it,' I told myself. 'They have exiled me. I am not permitted to go home - not now, maybe not ever. My family, my home. Everything that has gone into the making of myself, gone'. (Miriam Makeba)

The man at the desk took my passport. He did not speak to me. He took a rubber stamp and slammed it down. Then he walked away. I picked up my passport. It was stamped 'Invalid'. 'They have done it,' I told myself. 'They have exiled me. I am not permitted to go home - not now, maybe not ever. My family, my home. Everything that has gone into the making of myself, gone'.

Miriam Makeba

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