Normal 0 false false false MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 I was a child of war . Born in a land without books and writing, a land where history was carried on your mother’s tongue and in the songs of your village, a land swallowed up by war even as I uttered my first cry. And so, even the date of my birth was lost when my world was lost to me. Me and the lost boy Lino Kaman (left) Soldiers came in on their horses with their guns, burning down the village, killing the men and raping the woman. I heard cries for...
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