THE VERY FIRST homecoming I ever had, I fell into myself. What an odd thing it was. Homecomings usually have fanfare and expectation. Mine was a quiet slipping in and a bare whisper. I was aged four, on my fourth house and second continent in my short life thus far.

I remember that I was looking into the mirror and brushing my hair, and suddenly realised with a start that I was Ahona. This feels self-evident and something I wouldn’t think to question now – my name folded so closely into my identity and being; but this realisation at the age of four – this person, this strange name, this odd human-made label ‘Ahona’, it was me! This was my future, to be this person. I was me. I was separate from other people, and I had my own flicker of life, my own history and my own unfolding new story.