“My earliest memories are hauntingly painful. I don’t know how old I was, but I can see myself sitting with my brothers and sisters; we are hungry, cold and alone in our room, waiting for Mother to return. I sit on the edge of the narrow bed that I shared with Mother and watch the door for hours, just waiting for her. We don’t know where she has gone, but she has been gone all day, and my fear that she is never coming home grows stronger as darkness descends. We are forbidden to light the kerosene lamp when we are alone.”
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