I stood before them and they asked me if I had any questions.

I nearly laughed out loud.

How do you survive?
How do you feed them?
What is life like as a poor peasant woman on this farmland which
is repeatedly stolen from you?
Why is this world failing you?
How can feminism be so incomplete?
What is within my power to change, do, or improve?
How can you be pregnant again?

As I watched her pull lice out of her child’s hair and avoid my gaze, I left Barrio Visayas with a dehydrated body and changing spirit.