As our vehicle slowed down and came to an unscheduled halt, I couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. We were half way into a fourhour drive from Abeche in eastern Chad to the refugee camps near the border with Sudan. The boulders that littered the road had sent my head banging repeatedly into the roof of the vehicle, but Jamail, the driver, and Banabe, my interpreter for the journey, took it all cheerfully in their stride.
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