This a moving account of Rehana and the extraordinary lengths she takes to protect her two children during the Bangladesh War of Independence (1971). It also charts the emotional tension of her own struggle of identity and belonging, whilst honouring the memory of her dead husband.
In truth, it was a relief when she left the house every morning. Even the trees seem to relax. Rehana tried not to let her imagination run loose around the empty house. She spent the days in stunned efficiency, counting and recounting the supplies, listening to the radio and discovering the violence that had been wrought upon the country.