Applause broke out. Promises are enough when action is meaningless, Saba thought, as the aid workers dismounted from the chairs and were replaced by the singer and her nephew with the double-headed drum.

The singer sang about her gratefulness for not being forgotten by the world.

People like us fear invisibility, Saba said to Zahra. Just look how we shout when we could whisper, and laugh when smiles are enough.

Yeeeess. Zahra’s scream made Saba laugh.

Our beautiful world is closer than we thought, the singer continued, improvising a song.

A dancing throng formed a circle around the singer.

Let’s go, Zahra said.

Wait, Saba said, weaving her way through the crowd until she found the aid coordinator’s assistant. She asked about the school. The assistant cupped a hand behind his ear. Saba raised her voice. Did you also get permission to build our school? she asked. Is it going to be built at the same time as the new aid centre?

The assistant wagged his finger at her. Not now, he said. Look around, everyone is happy.

Zahra grabbed Saba by the hand and pulled her away.

The two girls sat by Saba’s hut. Saba, be patient, Zahra said. First things first, how can hungry people study? How can you lift a pen if you can’t even lift your arm?

In the same way we lift our arms to eat, said Saba.

Why? Why do you say that? I know this will upset you, Saba. But I really think there must always be room for hunger in our stomachs, in our hearts, our minds, our souls. It is that hunger that will lead us to become fighters for our freedom, so we can determine our own future.

But have you thought about what will happen afterwards? Saba asked.

What do you mean?

Well, if we all become fighters who will rebuild our destroyed homes after independence? Who will build our schools, our clinics, bridges, roads? Who will treat the ill and educate children?

The dancing circle grew wider, almost reaching Saba’s hut. Saba stood up. I’m going, she said.

Wait for me, said Zahra. I am coming with you.

The two friends held hands and made their way to the field assigned for the promised school. As Saba sat on the rock, Zahra stood next to her.

I saw my mother in my sleep again last night, carrying another wound, Zahra said. She joined Saba on the rock, her bony elbow grazing Saba’s rib. Sometimes I am afraid that my mother is dead. And if she is dead, I need to go and replace her.

Saba said nothing, her chest heaved. Zahra leaned forward. A bird landed on the grass opposite, and chirped. Saba picked up a stone and threw it. The bird flew away with her false hope.

We can’t let men do the fighting for us, said Zahra. That’s what my mother says in her tape. We can’t wait for our freedom. We have to fight for it. We must be ready to die like men for our dreams. They are our dreams too.