Warshe

In the heart of the forgotten city, where shadows stretch long and hope is a rare visitor, Warshe stands—a woman whose life has been etched by the cruel chisel of poverty. Her yellow dress, once vibrant, now faded and worn, mirrors the dimming light in her eyes. At 50, she carries the weight of countless struggles, each wrinkle on her face a testament to the years she has endured in silence. Yet, beneath the weariness lies a spirit unyielding and pure.