Needle Point
Tuesday, January 20, 2004
arsip tempo : 178036980399.
THE dozen men could only mumble. There was neither voice nor word spoken but a small note stuck next to their sweater pocket: a hand-written sentence in broken Indonesian. No one is allowed to open my mouth that has been stitched, the note said.
Seventeen Afghan refugees conducted a very painful procession two weeks ago. One by one, they pricked their lips with a needle making stitches that closed their mouths. There were no more bloodstains on th
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