You wouldn’t envy either Titus or Roni. Their situation is dire. They’re not up the creek without a paddle – they’re up it without a canoe!
And yet ... and yet ...Titus is kidnapped by Colombian guerrillas with his grandson. Alone, he might well have crumbled. Forced to look after his ward, he rises to Olympian heights of courage and selflessness and heroism. Not the spontaneous or instantaneous heroism of derring-do, but the heroism the more heroic yet for its stamina and unostentatiousness.  He also learns more about himself than he has ever known. To a very real extent, he is on the journey of his lifetime – perhaps a journey which defines his life. And we are sat next to him, as he gazes at all the vistas unfolding before him.

Roni likewise is on a journey. In twenty-four hours her son is to be executed. It is the most harrowing day of her life. But it is not a fruitless day. If, as the adage has it, ‘calamity introduces a man to himself’, by the end of this day she will know herself thoroughly. She wouldn’t wish this day on her worst enemy. But she is also glad she’s still alive to live through it.

Titus and Roni are two very different characters, whose different wisdoms would enlighten the other; ‘Titus’ and ‘Roni’ are two different stories which shed light on each other. Certainly they could survive separately – but their whole is greater than the sum of their parts.