It’s 2am in the morning. Rain is pounding on the tin roof. Elvira wants to just roll over and fall back to sleep – but nature calls. She picks her way through the overgrown grass outside the house and ventures as far into the bush as she dares: surely no one will see her here.
Timor-Leste in 1975 I fled the village and ran into the forest because of the war. When I was fleeing, my leg was wounded and had to be cut off.