The belief that we can be done with our past is a myth.

In the West, it was believed that attitude and ambition saved you. In Africa, we had learned that no one was immune to capricious tragedy.

I remember Karoi as a very hot, flat place, but in reality, it is all hills. We just lived next to an airstrip - the only flat piece of land around. That was my world as a three-year-old and sums up the indelible power of memory to a young child.

In southern and central Africa, tragedy roared at us, and we roared back. We shared dramas publicly, bled them on the corridors of hospitals, laid our corpses on the beds of neighbors, held our sorrows up in full light. We were volume ten about our madness and disorder, even if we were also resilient and enduring and tough.

For years, my Chinese family supported me, but they wanted me to have an arranged marriage, so I ran away and worked as a waitress. It was a tiny salary, but I was so happy; it was the first time I'd accomplished something.

I am still a lover of paper books. One of my first jobs was in a bookstore, and I still like to be able to write in a margin and feel the paper. Once inside of a digital device, I end up losing things.

Fame can take a toll on your personal life. Half of us were in short-lived marriages or not married at all. When you are doing something you love so much that you once did for free, and then someone pays you to do it, it's like a blessing. But you have to be prepared for it.

Getting married and settling down isn't the most important thing in my life.