“Yesterday I saw the pictures of the mudslide that washed away our village. I saw the big brown emptiness, where our houses, school, church, gardens and trees used to be, and I felt confused. I saw the rusting yellow excavator brought in by the army two weeks after the incident, which didn’t dig up a single body, and which somebody left there as an emblem of the incident or maybe as an indication that they will come back and finish the job some time in the future. It is two years now and I don’t plan to go back. I have a life here in the city and I hope to continue with my education and the business of keeping body and soul together. I lost an ear to flying glass, for on the day I was in class studying the division of cells. It is strange that my current schoolmates ask me to tell them about the rebels. They think it is those characters that took my ear. I try to tell them the truth but they don’t believe me. I’ve decided to play their game and blame the rebels for my situation. Maybe now they will leave me alone. ”
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