Cambodian tour guide Han Su was just 14 when Khmer Rouge soldiers murdered his mother and father before his eyes.
“They shot them in the head, then turned to me and said I was very lucky, because I was young enough to fight rather than die,” Mr Han*, 47, recalled.
“Those were terrible times, with fathers and sons turned against one another. Everyone did what they could to survive.”
In Mr Han’s case, that meant fighting for Pol Pot’s Khmer Rouge for three years in northern Cambodia, before being captured by rival Vietnamese forces and being forced to switch colours.
“It was the second time in my life I had been given the choice to fight or die,” he mused. “I must have been 18 years old.”
Mr Han lost his right leg in a subsequent battle, but survived the war and now ekes out a living as a tour guide in the popular Cambodian town of Siem Reap.
The job pays $60 a month, plus tips. Even by the country’s threadbare standards – the average Cambodian earns $200 a month – day-to-day life is a struggle.
“I’ve never received anything from the government,” he said. “We are a country caught in politicians’ wallets.”
Public disillusion with the ruling Cambodian People’s Party and Prime Minister Hun Sen is at an all-time high across Cambodia, following general elections in the summer that saw Mr Sen and his cadres controversially re-elected by a narrow margin.
Opposition supporters have cried foul and staged a series of protests across the country. But with the military staunchly backing the ruling CPP, change is unlikely to happen anytime soon.
Mr Sen, 61, is just two years shy of his 30th year in power and has set himself the target of ruling until the age of 74.
He had already been in power for a decade when student Sonith Housa*, 17, was born. One third of Cambodia’s 15 million population is aged between 10 and 24, and discontent is especially high among this youthful cohort.
“A few years ago, I used to tell everyone that my dream was to become Prime Minister, but not anymore,” Mr Housa said.
“Now, I understand what it takes to be in power in this country. And I want nothing to do with it.”
Mr Housa, who works nights at a bar to help fund his university studies, expressed frustration with the government.
“So many of us are fed up of being treated like pieces of meat,” he said. “The CPP always warns us that another government would lead to another Khmer Rouge, but we’re not idiots. We can see who is lining their pockets while others starve.”
Among those who have benefited from CPP rule is Sok Kong, a Vietnamese entrepreneur with fingers in several lucrative pies. Mr Kong’s company Sokimex owns multiple hotel chains, beach resorts and apartment complexes across Cambodia.
Controversially, the company is also responsible for ticketing concessions at Cambodia’s world-renowned Angkor Wat temple complex. Entry to the temples costs $20 for a one-day ticket.
The original 1999 deal guaranteed the Cambodian government $1 million a year from Angkor Wat ticket sales, with the remainder going to Sokimex.
Following several public outcries, the terms of that deal were revised, although both parties have consistently avoided questions about specific numbers.
“It’s an outrage,” said Mr Han.
“Imagine France giving ticketing rights for the Eiffel Tower to a German company. Angkor Wat is a Cambodian treasure, but it feeds Vietnamese pockets.”
Mr Housa is similarly angered.
“For decades this country has remained poor and backwards while our neighbours have prospered. I’ve had enough, and many others have too.”
Post-election protests in the capital Phnom Penh saw thousands take to the streets, and although largely peaceful, there were sporadic incidents of violence.
One protestor was killed following what a military spokesman called “provocative” behaviour, while a Buddhist monk’s attempt to set himself alight was only stopped at the last minute by riot police.
But although irritation with the country’s political elite is running at an all-time high, many Cambodians remain wary of openly defying their rulers.
“My father wants me to become a farmer and not worry myself with politics,” Mr Housa said, “and most of my friends are more interested in trying to make money than anything else. They warn me that fighting the system will get me killed.”
Mr Han has first-hand experience of political intimidation.
“Police searched my room just last week, but they found nothing,” he said.
He suspected a neighbour of having reported him to the authorities for anti-establishment behaviour.
“I’m writing a book about my experiences, from my childhood to my time in the Khmer Rouge and beyond,” he said. “Publishing it might be the end of me, because I have many things to say which the government would like to keep quiet. But finishing it would mean I could die happy.”
Mr Housa spiked his ambitions with a little more optimism.
“Cambodia could be a great country, but it has had to suffer for far too long. We need to believe in ourselves as people and start imagining a future which does not involve corruption, violence or intimidation.
“Nobody is perfect but we must try to be.”
* Names have been changed