One woman, Shagufta, is sat on the roadside, rifling through the clothes she’s brought to sell. “Life has become an insult now, we are dying slowly,” she tells us tearfully. She’s weak because she didn’t have any food for breakfast, or for dinner the night before. “Everything I had I gave to my children,” she says, “now I am selling their finest clothes, what they used to wear to weddings … If I get a good price I will buy oil, rice and flour.”
