The moment I walked into the room, my attention was drawn to her and the baby she held tenderly in her arms. Unlike the rest of the girls, she looked withdrawn. Our eyes met and the thought crossed my mind: What if she was my daughter?
Day of the African Child
I am seated by the living room window reading a book, more like staring into it. My mind wanders, occasionally glancing outside to catch a glimpse of my daughter riding her bike.