As we climbed out of our rickety tuk-tuk and were plunged deep inside the gates of Phnom Penh's notorious prison 'Tuel Sleng', I had not prepared myself for the scene I was about to encounter. Giggling and chit-chatting amongst ourselves, we waited for our tour guide to appear. Looking back I can’t help but feel guilty for smiling.
A middle-aged Cambodian woman approached us and introduced herself as our guide for the day. She was softly spoken like so many of the local people we had already met, though she did not wear the warm, comforting Cambodian smile that so many others had. I wondered why.
As the tour began, the atmosphere within the group changed; we plummeted into a wave of thoughtful silence. We stood in what was once a high school, more recently home to the remains of the S-21 prison, notoriously used during the murderous Khmer Rouge regime in the ‘70s. As we nervously edged forward through the prison grounds, 14 graves lay before us. These were the graves of the 14 bodies found at the prison after the extreme communist regime had ended.
'As the tour of the prison continued, we saw countless photos of the huge number of innocent people that had been tortured and murdered at the prison. Men and women, boys and girls of all ages, their lives ripped away so brutally'
We were taken into a room that contained a rusty metal bed frame; above it a large, explicit photo of a dead man sprawled across the bed was pinned to the dingy wall. This was one of the many horrific photos taken by the Khmer Rouge to document their ‘work’. The picture sent shivers down my spine.
As the tour of the prison continued, we saw countless photos of the huge number of innocent people that had been tortured and murdered at the prison. Men and women, boys and girls of all ages, their lives ripped away so brutally.
Throughout our tour, our guide gave us very detailed accounts of the regime and its effects on Cambodian society. She repeated the words ‘I remember it’ over and over. This powerful line echoed in my head as she spoke. I tried so hard to hold back the tears, but I just couldn’t fight the emotion.
Many of the prisoners were kept caged in a tiny brick cell, unable to move and blocked away from any sunlight. They were often imprisoned for months with very little water and food, barely enough to survive. I stepped inside one of the minute cells and immediately began to feel claustrophobic. A blood stain marked the floor of the redbrick prison cell, a potent reminder of the building's shocking past. 
'In present day Cambodia, 80% of the population are under 30 years old; the Khemer Rouge regime wiped a whole generation from existence'
At the prison, rules were enforced and those who disobeyed were punished severely.
‘While getting lashes or electrification you must not cry at all.’
‘Do nothing, sit still and wait for my orders. If there is no order, keep quiet. When I ask you to do something you must do it straight away without protesting.’
What human could be so cruel as to enforce these brutal commands?
Whilst looking at some photographs of the murdered inmates, I caught glimpse of three young boys wandering around the museum. I curiously watched as they approached a photo of a tortured body and studied it carefully. I began to think how such a tragic past has affected Cambodian life today. In present day Cambodia, 80% of the population are under 30 years old; the Khemer Rouge regime wiped a whole generation from existence. I began to think about the huge impact this terrifying history must have had on family life in Cambodia.
In 2010, the war may be over, but the spectres of the Khmer Rouge Regime still haunts the present day. An enormous number of land mines are still buried in the soil all over the country, often exploding in rural areas, killing and maiming those unfortunate enough to step on them. For every 3 people in Cambodia, there is one active land mine.
At the end of the tour, our guide told us how she has been affected by the genocide. Her brother was killed during the regime, and she explained to us how difficult her job was. I was amazed at her bravery, how she could tell such an emotional story every day to perfect strangers. I watched through my tinted glasses as she woefully walked away. My visit to Tuel Sleng was an experience that will live with me forever.
Words and photos: Nadia Kouhi