Dear Britain, with love.

What does it mean to belong somewhere you weren’t born? How does it feel to have the context of your life – your memories and experiences – stretched across two countries separated by thousands of miles of sky? How does it feel to know you will be asked – again, and again, and again – where are you from? And the answer can never be – from here.

I’ve been trying to answer these questions since January 2017, when I landed in Britain as a tourist first, and then an immigrant. And how Britain, slowly, in its charming, rain-soaked way, became home.

These letters are my attempt to make sense of this incredible journey – and celebrate it.