I am sure my mother is happy. I understand now the point of my own survival.

It was, in a way, reportage, because she was writing about what she had just seen.

This hunt, compared with what my parents went through, was nothing. There are moments that leave their indelible mark, but I’m alive.

When they came for her there were no tears. It was a silent adieu. She asked me to look after papa. I am sure she knew she was leaving forever.