My story began before I was even born.
On the day my mother started to talk,
my story began too.
Already, in my mother’s belly, I heard it, her, my own language.
I couldn’t speak myself, yet my mother could sense my hunger.
I could not speak, but I could understand my mother’s lullaby.
One day I said “dayê”, mama, and my mother’s eyes smiled.
On this day my story was born.
