The anthills of Africa were taller
than Peter—at least when he was little and Africa was home.
His playmates in the village didn't think a thing about his white
skin or golden hair. But his nanny did. Mayi told Peter's mother
the boy should wear a hat because of the hot sun.
Somehow, Peter never wore a hat in Africa. He ran up the anthills
barefoot and ate sugar cane in the shade of red flame trees. But
when Peter has to return to his real home in America he misses
Africa deeply. He misses his friend Yekha and his Mayi, hearing
the hippos moo, the hyenas groan, the drums sing in the distance.
More than anything he wishes he were home again in Africa. This
book in eloquent words and glowing pictures, shows why.