This strange, inhospitable, impossible place that is now home for 15,000, 65,000, 115,000 people who had to run here.
I don’t think about this a lot, because it seems like an impossible thought. To try to understand what it might feel like to have no home to go to anymore. The Ingessana are of their place, very much so. I can’t see it in the faces or the eyes of the people who I work with here, the people on my team who come from the refugee population. Strangely, they seem happy, in such good spirits. I’m confused by a lot of my staff actually. If I was bombed out of my home, I would be shit mad, totally crushed.