Beyond the Barbed-Wire Fence

"Where are you from?" I ask 13-year-old Faisel, as we take cover from the baking sun in a small shop in this camp for displaced families. "Over there," he says, pointing past the barbed wire. "That's my house." Faisel tells us how he came to live here, within sight of his childhood village. As he talks, friends and relatives gather around, often chiming in. His story is typical in this section of the camp. Their homes are empty, close by and forbidden. The story of how he ended up...

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