The cup was given to me when I was born and has my name engraved on it. This kind of etching on silver and the motifs – particularly the Tigris river - are uniquely Iraqi. The Tigris at Baghdad with its coracles and fishing boats, its banks of mud-coloured houses and palm trees, was the constant point of reference for me as a child. It was the landscape that was ‘home’. My family moved around a lot and coming back to Baghdad to me always meant the view from my grandparents’ garden on the banks of the river.

My mother’s great-aunt, Emet, gave me the cup. She has always been a kind of role model for me, both as a woman and as a person. She broke rules and pushed limits, but somehow managed not to alienate people or make them her enemies. In the 1920’s she went off by herself to study at Columbia University when such things were unheard of for women in the Middle East. Once back, she helped establish the first women’s college in Baghdad and eventually became its dean. Conservative families from the provinces were convinced to entrust their daughters to her and by the mid 30’s Iraqi women were training as doctors and lawyers. Emet genuinely believed in people’s capacity to develop and had a rare talent for making anyone she was with feel important.