“Although, like your dad and I, my parents came from different worlds. While they were both Nigerian, they were from different tribes. My mother was Igbo and my father was Yoruba. I felt lucky growing up to have that mix of such rich cultures, and I wanted you to feel that too. I wanted you to see your name and feel the richness of where you’re from. I wanted you to know that when I call your name, Chiamaka, I’m saying My daughter is beautiful and smart, and she brings me so much joy.” Her eyes are glassy as she takes my face into her hands and kisses my forehead. I smile, feeling teary, but
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