7/8/2023 0 Comments Sold book zana muhsenWard seemed particularly fond of her second son. The whole family came out of the house to greet him, and his mother took his bag in for him. He was a weak, sickly looking little boy, very thin and pale. I knew he was fourteen, but he looked more like ten to me. I’d been shown pictures of the boy before I came out, but I hadn’t taken much notice. Abdullah had been helping his father to fix it up in preparation for opening. Abdul Khada owned a restaurant in Campais, which was next to the main road out to Sana’a. I knew there was another boy and I’d been told that he was in another village about two hours’ drive away called Campais. When we got back from the shops Abdul Khada and I were sitting outside on the platform, talking to the old couple and the children, when Mohammed’s younger brother Abdullah arrived up the same path that we had first climbed. She approached me and together we relived the painful, eight year nightmare, to produce a true picture of Zana’s story. After a year, when the media attention had calmed down, she decided it was time to tell her story and she looked for a writer to help her. She needed time to reflect and to put her ordeal into perspective. The media were queuing up to buy her story, but Zana wasn’t ready to talk. When Zana first escaped from the Yemen, the news was on front pages all over the world.
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