Amal's home is about the area of our smallest bedroom. It is made of cardboard, nylon sacks and some wooden posts. There are no windows. There is a corrugated metal sheet for a door secured with a bicycle chain and padlock.

Inside are three metal framed beds and a cupboard. On top of the cupboard are three painted metal buckets, some cooking pots and various jars, cups and jugs. I guess this is the kitchen? Clothes are hung over a rail. The floor is dirt, the same as the ground outside; I notice Amal keeps her shoes on. Near the door is a "zayer" (earthenware water-pot) and a plastic jerry-can, about 40 litres in all. It costs 50SD to fill these each time.

Immediately we seem to be surrounded by children. It could be because "mother" is home or the novelty of a visiting khawaja; I cannot tell. The kids raid her bag and help themselves to the lollipops. Brothers, cousins, friends – there is no limit to the generosity.

She has two children of her own. Rorjis is about two, wants mothering but is content with the lollipop. Unis is a five year old going on fifteen. He has a pleasant enough manner but I fear there's an evil streak when he thinks I'm not watching – well what should I expect from such a deprived background? She and her partner seem to be caring also for four other children. Altogether, five of them sleep here, and three more in another shack nearby.

Unis and his friend have an electronic toy which lights up and plays 30 seconds of a pre-recorded pop song. It isn't clear to me what this device is or why anyone would want one? It's a kind of pretend radio; but surely a real radio would be no more expensive to produce? I'm absolutely sure the same song would drive me crazy long before the AA batteries run down.

Within moments of arriving Amal brings me a glass of hot, sweet, gingery coffee; it's delightful. Once the kids have settled she gets out a photo album and shows me pictures of her sisters and cousins. Most were taken some while ago in "photographic studios", usually in front of some exciting but irrelevant backdrop – like waterfalls or snowy mountains. They are dressed smartly in Western clothes.

After half an hour Amal opens the bag of bananas. We all have one – and then there are none left. The kids throw their skins on the floor. Amal collects them and throws them outside without a hint of reproach.