It all started in 1961,I was pregnant with my first daughter,my husband was an actor and was very famous.We lived in Angola a country in the centre of Africa.When people actually started fighting,there was barely any food and even though my husband was famous we were still poor.We got most of our foodfrom people that new my husband for example our bread,we got it from the baker who new my husband but most of our food and clothes,we had to buy them. The only thing we could afford was prawns and sometimes if we were lucky some fruit but it wasn't much.
Like I said before I was pregnant so I had to protect myself,and my baby somehow.So I tied a bread knife around my waist in case someone tried to attack me.Like I was going to use it,if someone wanted to do something to me I would be helping them by having a knife on me they could just kill me.But luckily I didn't have to even try to use it.I was always really scared that something was going to happen to my baby but luckily nothing happened and today she has 2 children.Anyways,I used to walk around with the knife and put the knife on my bedside table when I went to sleep.
Then the day came,I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl and named her Sheila.
She was the most precious thing I had,and she was also something that I had to protect. One day me and my husband heard some bullets on our window,I picked up Sheila and crawled out of my room I grabbed the knife and we went out.My husband found some people that were hurt and other that were dead so we freaked out,we went to find some of our family members so we could try to escape from the country or even Africa.My mum had gone to Portugal sometime before the war and my dad had died during the war. I could've gone to Portugal with my mum but I was married so I stayed with my husband.When Sheila was 3 months old we decided to try to go to Portugal but if we couldn't we would go somewhere else we just wanted to get to safety.