Monday, May 08, 2006

When Help Is Not On The Way

... Bokilo can almost see home from the edge of the squalid camp where he has lived for three years. Swollen-bellied children run past him. There's cholera in the water, and malaria in the huts. Two miles away, his fields lie untilled, and that's how they'll stay. 'Of course I can't go back,' he says, warning of the armed bands roaming freely outside town. 'They will kill you. ... They take your boys. They take your girls.'

Constant fear of marauders who murder, rape, pillage, and enslave. Legions sweeping into camps. Sexual violence as a weapon of war.
Think you know what this is about?

Guess again.

I feel tricked by the emphasis on another, more well-known hot spot.

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