Amira: They say today’s youth is tomorrow’s future. Shall I not be one of its voices?
I HAVE always loved writing. Back when my mother taught at university, she would pass some paper to my younger brother and me so we could write in her office as she did her work. In the room with a huge window that overlooked the cluster of greens outside, I would write about my day at kindergarten and adorn the paper with my illustrations.
My mother would clip the papers together, helping me produce my little book. She kept these anecdotes stowed carefully in files that she arranged in our wooden cupboard at home.
