Eliah Lillis

In Cambodia, those detained on controversial charges see themselves as pawns in a repetitive game of political chess. Will the rules stay the same? Nay Vanda wakes every day for a 6am roll call. The prisoners sharing the 42-year-old’s 4-by-5 metre cell in Prey Sar shout out a number, one to 30. Like most in the prison, the room is overcrowded. The inmates sleep on their sides, wedged together, but even then there is not enough space.

Consumed by Cambodians for centuries, Num Ansorm and Num Kom are more than just ricebased snacks – they carry a special spiritual, and sexual, significance. Mom Thy, 47, wakes up in the dead of night to make a stack of the banana leaf-wrapped sticky rice treats called Num Ansorm, which he pedals around town on his cart filled with hot coals. “I wake up at 1am to prepare them and start selling at 5,” he says.

The Fajr International Film Festival in Iran has announced it will honour Cambodian director Rithy Panh’s long cinematic career and focus on humanitarian issues in film with the Fajr Peace Award. Panh, 53, has made over a dozen films over his three decade career and most recently co-produced Angelina Jolie’s Netflix adaptation of First They Killed My Father, telling the true story of a young girl under the Khmer Rouge.