Now I eat beans and sorghum. My children don't have clothes. She hopes one day to go home. For now, she worries about relatives trapped behind the fighting. Further down the dirt road from the camp is a cemetery where dozens of children were buried three weeks earlier during a measles outbreak.
Small stones blanket the tiny mounds marked with two crossed sticks.
A mother weeps by her child's grave. She died of diarrhea. We are not worried about it. We know each of us will die. We must accept it.