The room is filled with the stench of humidity and fungus. Morris sits next to his father, on the floor next to the sofa. Life is hard here, but together they try to make the best of it. He leans against his dad. A sudden outburst follows: “Sit still! Damned!” Morris jumps with fear and runs out of the room. His mother bursts out in tears. ‘My husband was a soldier, he suffers heavily from war trauma. Sometimes he bursts out in rage for no reason at all. He lost his nerves in the war. Sometimes he even says he wants to kill himself.’ Fikrat, Morris’ brother doesn’t even blink an eye. He just overhears the conversation. Like every day. In this reportage we focus on the human stories. With the smell of poverty still in our noses, we try to give these ‘forgotten people’ a name, a face, a voice.
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