Last year they burned our house
As we were preparing to go to bed, a young girl called out telling us to come out of the hut. Houses were burning in the mountains, she said. “I hope they do not come and burn our house,” the women said. “Last year they came and set it on fire.” We stared at the mountains for some time and then we went inside.
Fifteen minutes later, everybody was asleep except for me. I could not get to sleep as calmly or as rapidly as my hosts. Three little pigs had settled in for the night under our only bed. There was a strong smell of their urine wafting up from below. The wood that served as our mattress was hard and the space could have fit two-and a half persons but we were four in the bed. I was on my back and could not move, turn left or right. On the horizon, houses were burning and I kept thinking of Lus’s words: “If they come, you run!” My head was overflowing with worry. I asked myself how my bedmates could sleep through this and if the two doctors who had introduced me to Homoko knew that the war had begun.