By Chris Paci, KF16, Tajikistan
Note: I have given Rahim a pseudonym to protect his privacy. Photos do not picture the locations mentioned in the text.
“Be careful,” called Rahim from somewhere above my head. It was pitch black, and I felt for each stair with the toe of my shoe, slowly working my way up to where Rahim stood. Shards of fallen concrete snapped beneath my boots.
Rahim was standing in front of a door and fiddling with his keys. “Sorry, we have no lightbulbs in the stairwell. It’s difficult to see,” he apologized, just as the lock snapped...
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