What home means to me

Darasimi is my name. I am 10 years old, and I was born in Nigeria. I came to Canada with my mum at six years old. At first, I thought home was only the house I left behind in Nigeria. Now I know home is more than one place. In Nigeria, home meant warm weather, lovely neighbours, and the smell of jollof rice. It meant my cousins running around, my grandma’s stories. I still remember the sound of music from grandpa's radio. When we moved to Canada, everything felt different. The snow was so white and cold, and I had to wear so many clothes. I missed my family a lot. Our first apartment was small, and I shared everything with my mum. But she told me, “As long as we are together, we are home.” School has become home for me. My teachers are kind, and my new friends are lovely. I like learning new things, reading in the library, attending music classes and learning to play the violin. When I answer questions in class correctly, I feel proud of myself and smile, saying within my heart that this is home. I feel comfortable and safe here. Now, home means Canada, where I live, love, and can be myself. It is cooking different Canadian recipes like pancakes with maple syrup, poutine, and laughing while cooking. It is talking to my family in Nigeria, especially my grandma and Grandpa, on video calls and telling them about my life here. Home is in my heart, in two countries at once, and I am happy that both Nigeria and Canada are a part of me. Home is my past, my present, and my bright future here in Canada.