MY NAME IS PRENDA KUSIA. My father was poor, but we had our house. Now I have ended up in a tunnel [bunker]. I have only twenty kilos for preparing bread, no more. Life is extremely difficult. I am not afraid to say these things to you because even during the communist period I said what I thought. I think that nobody wants to help us in such circumstances. Now we are in the worst situation to raise our children. We have no money, we have no jobs.