Art galleries in Britain have only recently begun to include work by Black, Asian and female artists. The presence of this work in Oldham's collections shows how public institutions, like art galleries, have woken up to all citizens not just the privileged few. This allows us to engage with the thoughts of all members of society.

The artist here is wondering how a young British woman of Pakistani origin finds her identity in 1990s Britain.

Once upon a time Two Sisters were out and about. It was raining. It was cold. "The rain it doesn't rain everyday." "And it isn't always cold."

Two Sisters were staring at their distorted reflections in the canal. They were scowling. Two identical twin sneaking suspicions were bugging them, sidling up close to Two Sisters, and with way over-friendly hands, and with bad breath.

Two Sisters said, "leave us alone," but the sneaking suspicions were insistent, like itches you can't scratch away. The sneaking suspicions kept insisting there was nothing that Two Sisters would ever be able to do.

Two Sisters rebelled, they pushed the sneaking suspicions into the canal. The scowls leapt off the faces of Two Sisters. And the scowls, like oil heated to fury by fire, transformed themselves into feline forms the colour of bright red chilli, and hissing spitting images, skulked off in search of rats to play with in a deliciously saucy way.

Two Sisters saw the man and the woman stalking towards them. The man and the woman appeared to be civilised, educated, intelligent, but, appearances can be deceiving, in fact, they were not civilised, only socialised, and though they had indeed been educated in expensive schools and high universities, still, their education had left much to be desired. And what's a good brain without a kind heart? And what's knowledge without understanding, without wisdom?

The eyes of the man and the woman like hyenas in the misty rain sniffed at Two Sisters. The man and the woman exchanged an evil commentary in the language of snakes. Little did they realise that Two Sisters did not need to hear the words to understand just what was being said, for Two Sisters were fully able to lip-read, mind-read, heart-read, soul-read, for Two Sisters really were educated, and could read the man and the woman like they could read a painting, and the painting of the man and the woman was a very disturbing painting, it certainly would not have been entitled : Tolerance.

Two Sisters felt the power within stirring and swirling and refusing to be denied. Two Sisters power leapt all of a sudden from Two Sisters lips like Grandmother's beautiful laughter. Words in flight, words like : turmeric, cinnamon, and fenugreek; asafoetida, fennel and ginger; neem and peppercorn, lotus root and red, red chilli; words like kalo fire.

The man and the woman stood transfixed by Two Sisters spellbinding Words. Two Sisters said "open sesame," and the mouths of the man and the woman opened wide, they squawked then in terror as their tongues were turned into brightly coloured parrots that took flight noisily and suddenly like frightened parrots will, and also, not unlike bats out of hell.

Genetics can be strange. The man and woman turned and fled. It had stopped raining. It wasn't quite so cold. Two Sisters began giggling. Two Sister-giggles were there and then flitting here and there and everywhere: a sunburst of swallows.

Two Sisters laughed and Two Sisters laughter was music with the strong heart's beat of divine messengers - was music with melodies in the keys of life that could unlock any door and do anything. Pure Sunlight. The Rainbow after the Flood. Two Sisters music was the long winter passing and the summer come again. Two Sisters smiled.