About a week ago I tuned into BBC Four for a report about Ivory Coast. We listened to a group of women who had gathered in a square demanding to be heard. This filled me with joy and I was cheering them on from our kitchen with Zoe joining in. Not that often women risk their lifes and that of their loved ones to speak up against wrong doings. But every astonishing time that they do it, it fills me with great pride. However, our chanting came to an abrupt end when rounds of gun fire could be heart. It felt, as if I we were under fire as well. My heart stopped for a moment and I looked over to Zoe. She had tears in her eyes, unable to utter a word.
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