The relentless gnawing of hunger had become a familiar companion. My stomach, a constant, aching reminder of my failing circumstances, echoed the broader crisis gripping the nation. The once-vibrant markets, bustling with the energy of commerce, now lay desolate, their stalls abandoned, their wares rotting. The optimistic chatter of vendors had been replaced by the desolate silence of empty streets.

My family, once a source of strength and comfort, were now shadows of their former selves, their faces etched with the worry lines of desperation. My father, a skilled craftsman, found his...