In fact, I did not know what African authenticity was.
The professor told me that my characters were too much like him, an educated and middle-class man.
My characters drove cars. They were not starving.
Therefore they were not authentically African.
But I must quickly add that I too am just as guilty in the question of the single story.
A few years ago, I visited Mexico from the U.S.
The political climate in the U.S. at the time was tense, and there were debates going on about immigration.
And, as often happens in America, immigration became synonymous with Mexicans.
There were endless stories of Mexicans as people who were fleecing the healthcare system, sneaking across the border, being arrested at the border, that sort of thing.
I remember walking around on my first day in Guadalajara, watching the people going to work, rolling up tortillas in the marketplace, smoking, laughing.