My earliest childhood memories are staying with my grandmother. My grandmother was strict. She was more serious than my mother. Usually the grandmothers are less serious. That's funny. She would go to different villages. She sold groundnuts, shea butter and essential oils. One time she asked me to go with her. I said no. And then she asked me why. I told her that the last time I had gone with her she had an argument with a lady who owed her money. It was not a lot of money but it mattered to my grandmother. I told my grandmother she was spoiling her name in public. But for me, my grandmother was the best one. Because she would come to school if I said a teacher beat me. And my school was far! And she would ask the teacher why she beat me and she would argue with the teacher.  I loved my father. To me my father was the best for my mother and for us. I remember Sunday after church he would make a huge salad. He often took us to the balcony and would ask us many questions like "who is your favorite teacher"? Sometimes he whispered to birds and they landed on his knees.  My fondest memory of my mother was the sweets and bread she used to make. She puts the sugar in the pot and turns it into caramel. When she made bread, she would allow us to make our own shapes like a fish. And then give us Kraft cheese to put in and it would melt inside the bread. I really liked it. My parents were very generous. That is something I remember.