Read the first chapter of Amina's Drum.

Once upon a time, in a vibrant flourishing town called "SOGAL" in the heart of West Africa, there lived a young girl named Amina who came from a noble wealthy family.

Amina had sparkling eyes and curly hair that danced in the warm breeze. Amina was born in America, and decided to live with her grandmother in Africa to learn more about her roots, education, and culture.

Even though she missed her mom and dad, she felt safe because Grandma was close by. Today was a big day and it was her first day of middle school in a new country! She felt super excited, but a little nervous.

On the kitchen table, Grandma had laid out a book bag the color of warm cocoa, stitched in gold thread that seemed to shimmer whenever Amina looked away. "This was your mama's," Grandma said softly. "She carried it on her first day too. I've kept it safe for you all these years."

Amina lifted the flap. Inside, where pencils and notebooks should have been, sat a small djembe — its skin the color of honey, its wood smelling of long journeys and faraway rain. It was the very drum her mother had played as a girl in SOGAL.

"Your mama played it whenever her heart felt too small for the day in front of her," Grandma whispered. "The drum remembers her hands. Today, it will learn yours."

Amina pressed her palm to the skin. It was warm — as if it had been waiting, all this time, for her hand to find it. And before she could ask how a book bag could carry a drum and a country and her mother's heart all at once, the first beat answered her.

…to be continued.