I thought the next town was so far away that it wasn’t even worth thinking about, said Eyob. But that is what happens when they drop you here in the middle of the night.

Tedros came into the compound with a jug of beer. He had slept at Azyeb’s bar. Is the white cloth ready? he asked Saba. We will need it tomorrow.

He was drinking his life away because he had lost her, but he never had her in the first place, Saba thought. Yet he was grieving over love he had conceived in his head and had imagined would be reciprocated.

Tedros picked up the white cloth from the pile by Saba’s feet and threw it into the bucket. Saba looked at her fiancé. Eyob shuffled on his stool. Some time passed in silence before Hajj Ali brought the conversation back to the village, pressing the same point that was of interest to Saba.

And, Hajj Ali continued, before I came here, they apparently opened the new road that connects the village to the capital, with the best university on our continent. So no one here with the ambition to finish their education should let distance discourage them, not with this new road. The future is bright. But we all have to pay a price to be part of it.

Hajj Ali took a sip of his tea and asked Eyob for something to scribble on. With his request answered, the nomad stretched out his leg and placed the paper on his lower thigh, as close as possible to Saba, and drew a map of his country. He located the camp with the tip of his pencil. Here, he said, that’s where we live.

Saba examined the map and the dot that represented the camp. And that pencil-scrawled point was enough to make her feel that the place where she lived counted. This camp was part of something. And she was too.

Hajj Ali was about to crumple the paper into a ball when Saba asked to have it. He smiled. With pleasure, he said.

With the paper in Saba’s hands, the nomad addressed Eyob. What is the use of a permanently closed shop? Maybe we should arrange a trip to the village to get some products. You need to work. A businessman without work is like a man in a marriage without sex.

He laughed. And his laughter continued until he drew Saba out of her reverie. She looked up, as if to say I understand, no more inference is needed.

Men are easy to read.

Sadly, we have been told we are not authorized to leave the camp without a permit, said Eyob.

You seem to forget that I am from this country, Eyob. And as a citizen, I am your permit. And no one else in this camp knows the way. Hajj Ali looked at Saba as he repeated this fact a few times. Saba knew. He began bargaining, for something that had nothing to do with business.