“I didn’t know anything about the Netherlands except that it was cold and snowed. When I was six my mother told me we were moving to Amsterdam. She had fallen in love with a Dutch man four years earlier. He was making his way across Africa at the time. We left here in 1996 and I didn’t really understand what was going on. I thought we were only going a way for a short time and would come back to the Central African Republic. It was hard to say goodbye to my grandmother; I was very attached to her. I realised I wouldn’t see ‘meme’ for a long time. It only really hit me after a week and I had a tough time dealing with it.