The first time I saw a dead person was when we were walking in late July of 1990. This woman had been shot, apparently, but she was still clinging onto her Bible, and the dogs were eating her body. I froze. That was the first time in my entire life I had seen a dead person. It got so bad that by the time the war ended — I was in my 30s — I could eat with a dead person around me. So you move from being afraid to not being afraid — from being afraid of the shooting to moving around and trying to fend for food in the midst of the shooting. When the war started, yes, they were killing people, shooting people, but as it dragged on, the fighters and those who had the guns began to think about very creative ways of killing people. Stories I told of women who were walking, coming to a checkpoint and were pregnant, and the soldiers would put a bet on them: “She’s carrying a boy.” “No, she’s carrying a girl.” And they would open up the stomach to know the sex of the child. So these are things — it was really, really bad. And we’ve been — what? — 14, 15 years since the end of the war, but I think it’s going to take us decades to get our humanity back, to get the infrastructure developed, to get us to that place where we can look at each other again and not be suspicious that this person is a potential killer.