Just able barely to mount a horse and ride about a little in the spring of 1866, my life was threatened daily, and I was forced to go heavily armed. The whole country was then full of militia, robbing, plundering and killing.
I think for a lot of so-called post-colonial peoples, there's a feeling of not being quite legitimate, of not being pure enough.
Common sense tells us that the things of the earth exist only a little, and that true reality is only in dreams.