Book description
>
Glasgow. A city of colour and contrast. A place where two worlds collide
- and are changed forever.
When the Scottish Refugee Council assigns Deborah Maxwell to act as
Somali refugee Abdi's new mentor, the two are drawn into an awkward
friendship. They must spend a year together, meeting once a month in a
different part of Glasgow. As recently-widowed Deborah opens Abdi's eyes
to her beloved city and its people, he teaches her about the importance
of family - and of laying your ghosts to rest. All Abdi has brought with
him is his four-year-old daughter, Rebecca, who lives in a silence no
one can reach.
Until, one day, little Rebecca starts talking. And they realise why she stopped.
Heartbreaking, uplifting and unforgettable, This is Where I Am
is a novel of loss and guilt, friendship and hope, and of what we can
grow from the ashes of the past. I>
So we walked in the freezing night air, my daughter weeping into my
neck, and me trying to shelter her inside my own thin coat. I could
accept the sun had left us, but I struggled to understand where the moon
was. At home, the moon and stars are so big, you can see by them, work
by them through the night. Only thin glimmers here, cold specks in the
muddy sky.< >
Glasgow. A city of colour and contrast. A place where two worlds collide
- and are changed forever.
When the Scottish Refugee Council assigns Deborah Maxwell to act as
Somali refugee Abdi's new mentor, the two are drawn into an awkward
friendship. They must spend a year together, meeting once a month in a
different part of Glasgow. As recently-widowed Deborah opens Abdi's eyes
to her beloved city and its people, he teaches her about the importance
of family - and of laying your ghosts to rest. All Abdi has brought with
him is his four-year-old daughter, Rebecca, who lives in a silence no
one can reach.
Until, one day, little Rebecca starts talking. And they realise why she stopped.
Heartbreaking, uplifting and unforgettable, This is Where I Am
is a novel of loss and guilt, friendship and hope, and of what we can
grow from the ashes of the past. I>
So we walked in the freezing night air, my daughter weeping into my
neck, and me trying to shelter her inside my own thin coat. I could
accept the sun had left us, but I struggled to understand where the moon
was. At home, the moon and stars are so big, you can see by them, work
by them through the night. Only thin glimmers here, cold specks in the
muddy sky.<
