The organizations give us food, but it’s not enough. We work in the area, cutting dura to make flour, but we don’t have meat if we don’t work.

We work in houses when it’s not raining and get leaves from dura. We clean houses for people. Wash clothes. I’m afraid I might be raped when I go into peoples’ houses. We hope that God will let us go back to our country.

My biggest worries: I have no family. If I am sick or my children are sick, who will look after them?

I go into Farchana to wash clothes. I’m afraid I might get raped. Nothing has happened to me, but I know some women who have been raped – some are my neighbors.

At 9:00 a.m. they attacked our village. We heard they were coming and we tried to get away. We heard them shooting. Some people got away on horse; everyone else left in the village was killed. I saw them with my eyes. After the shooting stopped, the men went back to the village; the women and children stayed outside the village with the animals. The men said seventeen villagers had been shot. This happened at the beginning of 2003.

My husband was in Libya at the time of the first attack. After this attack, I moved in with my mother and father, but they did not return to her village; they were heading towards the border. I stayed with my parents as they were all heading to the border.

We passed by two villages. At the first village, Agomi, we didn’t stop. This village had not been attacked. We were riding donkeys. We had all our animals with us. Then we came to a village called Angemi. We stopped because one of our sheep gave birth to lambs in the street. We stopped so they could rest. Then we went to the border and we were in a village called Tokoli. Then the Janjaweed came again and attacked. They took all of our animals.

They shot one of my brothers and killed him. I saw it. Then they shot one of my cousins but he didn’t die. When we were at the border, I went to get wood by the river and while I was there, they found me and raped me. There were four of us women. Three of them saw the Janjaweed and they ran but I didn’t see them. There were two men, one ran after the other women and the other raped me. I was fighting with him. He tried to beat me in my arms and then he pulled my sleeve out and my dress off and raped me. I also beat him. After he raped me and I beat him, he left me.

How did I know they were Janjaweed? They were riding camels and wearing green uniforms. They had guns. They had their heads covered and they were speaking Arabic. The people who attacked me at the border were the same ones who attacked my village.

After, I spoke to two of my sisters-in-law and a friend and told them what happened to me. I also told my family but they didn’t believe me. They didn’t believe I was raped until I got pregnant. But they were nice to me, except for my husband.

When he heard about the pregnancy, he did not come back from Libya but called on the phone. When I confirmed that I had been raped and was pregnant, he said, “I divorce you.” I have not seen him since then.

I went out to pasture my animals and I was raped. This happened approximately nine months ago. I am pregnant.

No one was with me and the man who raped me was alone, too. I was far from Farchana. He threatened me with his gun. After he threatened me, he did everything he liked.

After the attack I returned home. I told my family and they are very angry with me. They know I am pregnant and they kicked me out of the house. My uncle followed me to the pasture one day and cut off all my hair. This uncle has since fled to Sudan. The sheik has got involved and talked the grandmother and grandfather into letting me live back with them.

After the man raped me, my family would not eat with me. They treated me like a dog and I had to eat alone.

In 2003, the Janjaweed attacked us. It was early morning before we drank tea. Some of them were wearing army wear and others in simple wear. Most of them rode horses. A few of them rode camels. There were many, many, many. When they attacked everyone ran. I heard guns shooting. My father refused to turn over the animals. They shot my father in the head. I ran away. They took all our animals.

I ran and hid in the forest by the river with my children. My former husband took the children and escaped with them.

When I returned back to the house with my mother, I found my father’s and son-in-law’s bodies, as well as my maternal uncle, his two daughters, and son. My father was shot in the head.

Since that day, I have fear inside.

My son-in-law was shot in the house in the side, and was killed. My mother who had heart disease saw the carnage and my father’s body; she died on the spot.

They took everything from the inside of the house and our animals.

There were not any men to bury the dead. I dug a grave for my father. I did not have the strength to bury the rest, and I was afraid. After two days, in the night, a few villagers who survived came, and helped me to bury the remaining dead next to my father.

I never went home after that. The village was put on fire. There was nothing to return to. I walked alone for two days and found my ex-husband and children.

We went to Mastar in Sudan where we stayed for four days. We were afraid of violence by the Janjaweed so we left. We went to Andabrite, Chad, where we stayed for twenty days. We heard about Farchana camp. We came walking and with our donkey and arrived in 2003.