Child bride torment

In our modest dwelling, comprised of merely two rooms and a floor of black earth, we navigate through the rhythms of daily life amidst the essential elements required for survival.

Candlelight dances across the worn surfaces, illuminating our humble existence. Within these confines, simplicity reigns supreme. Our meals are prepared over the crackling flames of an open fire, utilizing whatever provisions are within our means.

Bathing becomes an outdoor affair, where the creek at the back serves as our communal bathing spot, shared by others before the water trickles down stream to us.

In our house, our kitchen isn't much of a kitchen at all. It's more like a dark cave, even when the sun is shining outside.

The air always smells like smoke, because we use coconut husks and wood to cook our food. Sometimes it's so thick you can almost taste it on your tongue.

There's not much in our kitchen. Just a couple of pots—one for cooking rice and another for making soup. But it's not like the soups you see in fancy restaurants.