I’ve landed in Karachi after a fairly painless 24-hour journey.

I fly out of Houston Intercontinental Airport’s Mickey Leland international terminal. At the security gates and am asked to raise my arms so guards can take a full body x-ray. This is the first time I’ve had to undergo that process. But I’m luckier than others.

As I buckle my belt and shove my laptop into my backpack, I watch officers escort an older West African woman to a private area to undergo a full body search. Her husband’s gaze is fixed on his wife as she’s led away from him. They exchange words in a language that I don’t understand. I can only imagine what they must be saying to each other.