The morning sun rose over the barren land, bringing another day of unbearable heat.
The refugee settlement had grown considerably overnight. Hundreds of people had arrived from neighbouring villages, and more were still coming. The temporary shelters stretched across the dry plains, their makeshift roofs fluttering in the hot wind.
There was no proper shade, no reliable water source, and certainly not enough food.
The drought had turned the entire region into a desert.
The earth was cracked, the trees were almost leafless, and the once-flowing river had become a narrow stretch of muddy water.
People had begun calling the place the Dead Plains.
Nobody knew how long they would survive there. A morning without enough food
"Mother, I'm hungry."
Tao's little voice broke the silence.
Wong Mei looked at her youngest son. She had been trying to prepare breakfast using the last handful of rice they possessed.
"Wait a little, sweetheart. The food distribution will begin soon."
