Saba turned her attention back to the women. The midwife’s words seemed to placate Saba’s mother. But then her tone sounded heavy, as if all sorrows passed through her throat at the same time as her words when she lamented that her daughter would marry before her older brother.

Hagos was in Saba’s mind later that evening as she watched her brother return from his evening stroll with the businessman. Eyob stood on the other side of the square, close to the aid centre. Hagos stopped and turned to look back at the businessman. He waved and continued on his way home, towards Saba.

Until now, before overhearing that conversation between the women earlier, Saba had imagined other reasons for Eyob’s befriending of Hagos. She knew people liked to talk and were in need of good listeners, but it was also clear that the businessman appreciated silence. Hagos could provide Eyob with both: listen whenever he wanted to talk and be quiet whenever he preferred silence, without having to be asked.

This advantage people had over Hagos wasn’t new. Saba remembered the times back home when she overheard her cousin telling Hagos about her love affairs. Without a voice, Hagos was a safe with keys that no one would ever find. Saba knew this very well, and felt total freedom in his presence. She’d even masturbate knowing that even if he woke up, he couldn’t tell anyone. Her desires and secrets were safe in Hagos’s chest.

Hagos hugged Saba. She smelt Eyob’s cologne on his skin and that confirmed in her mind how close the businessman was getting to Hagos in order to get to her. Yes, she loved her brother but she never meant for that love to carry another man to her on its wave.

Hagos took off his shirt and lay in his blanket, facing the wall. Saba sat next to him. Sweat rolled down his back. Saba steadied her hand as she wiped perspiration off his skin. She imagined some time from now when Eyob would succeed and her brother would be left behind, dying a virgin as the men at Azyeb’s bar had predicted.

THE PROSTITUTE

Saba collected the laundry to take to the river while Hagos cooked. This division of labour suited them both. Saba craved the outside and the silence away from the camp, while Hagos preferred home life.

At the river, Saba sat far away from the crowd of people but when she heard whimpering she realized she wasn’t alone. A shaven-headed young girl sat nearby, arms wrapped around her ankles, chin on her knees, staring out at the water.

Saba walked up and sat next to her. Is everything all right? she asked.

The girl did not respond. Saba sat close, rubbing her back, and asked again what was wrong. Eventually the girl raised her head, weeping freely now. Saba hugged her close and gently coaxed the story out of her. The young girl had been beaten by her parents earlier that day when they found out she worked for a prostitute. The midwife told my father, the girl said. But I didn’t know she was sharmota. I went to ask her for a job when I saw her unload nice furniture when she arrived in the camp.