In 1968, while redecorating my grandmother's flat, I came across an old battered brown suitcase containing the letters my father had written to her from the Gold Coast. I had lived in Tamale as a three year old child, and our closest family friends were from that period of my father's life. So I grew up with the stories and affection for Tamale - my first home - and a place called Zuarungu. In later life I encouraged my father to write his memoirs, reminding him of half remembered stories and encouraging him to dig deep into his memory. We discussed shaping these memoirs into book form, but he died in 1985 leaving me to finish the task.

My somewhat unorthodox idea was to make it an edited autobiography of his early life, by integrating interesting letters into the text, and further illuminate it with detailed footnotes added by myself.