It's 10am on a stiflingly hot Monday morning and I am in a delivery room with one of the unluckiest mothers on the planet. She is Dahara Laouali, and at the moment she is lying on a narrow, dusty hospital trolley pushing her baby into the w

Dahara pushes, pain creasing her sweating face, and then pushes again - and suddenly between her legs there is a little boy with the walnut features of newborns everywhere, and a mop of damp, dark hair. Insa gives a delighted squeal, but Dahara is still silent: as her baby is wrapped in a cloth, she turn

"inner chimp"

waitin