The story

It is hot. So hot, that the mud on Faqeir Edris Faqeir's hands dries in less than a minute. As the old man rubs the palms of his hands together little bits of clay land in front of his feet. In the swamp where his house used to stand only one wall remains; the floods took the rest.

It happened late one night back in August as Faqeir Edris Faqeir lay in his bedroom, listening to the water as it drummed angrily on the roof of his home.

It had been raining for hours. Read full article »

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