This is a girl whose sister convinces their mother to cut off her hair. I do not think the sister's intention is honourable. This is a girl who runs everywhere barefoot, a girl who barely notices the hot sand or rough ground. She collects lizard eggs from a nest and glows with pride as she presents them to her parents in the scoop of her skirt, whilst showing bare legs where she's lifted her clothing. This girl wakes in the night and as her toes touch the cold terrazzo floor, she imagines her feet are hitting sea water and that a great white shark is about to pull her under. This is a girl who stops off at tuesday market and buys sugar cane every week, the same girl who feels a warm fuzzy feeling when the market trader lady tells her how beautiful she is. This is a girl who treasures her white, knee high, patterned socks. The ones with a cuff that her Grandma Peppermint sent her all the way from England. She will save them to wear on Independence Day when she will march at Black Star Square and by the end of the day those white socks will have turned a rusty red from the sand.This is a girl who will practice the delivery of the words 'I promise on my honour to be faithful and loyal to Ghana my homeland'. This girl will never imagine that her brother will one day not be the centre of her world or that her father will be gone from this world so very soon. She is a girl who will feel the hurt of sensing that she will never live up to the academic reputation of her siblings, a girl who will be thankful that her mother insists that this is not the case in her eyes. This girl will spend hours watching people, observing how they move their hands and gesticulate, how their mouths define their mood and how their sadness and happiness can cloak them. She will keep watching, keep copying, keep playing and telling theirs and her own stories many times. This is a girl who will find her way along a path, she will come to crossroads and be undecided about which way to go. She will feel anxious, confused, frightened even but she will find her way, even if she loses it and finds it again, loses it and finds it, loses it and finds it. This is a girl who sits on my shoulder and sometimes whispers her secrets. This girl is sometimes silent and almost invisible and when this happens she is missed, she is missing, lost. This is a girl that belongs to me, forever in my heart, forever in my mind, forever in my footprints. This is me as a girl. This is a girl who is me. This is me.