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I look upon the open sky. Emptiness swallows me, my loneliness increasing with the silence of the night. I am tired of stumbling. Now here with no work, no money – not having money means the pace of my life has stopped. Uncertainty seems to be on my mind again. I try to find shelter in my diary again as I write down the feelings that I can barely express.
Md Sharif Uddin, a writer and migrant worker in Singapore, gives his account from inside a migrant worker dormitory under lockdown, to curb the spread of Covid-19 infections.