The Tent Designer

The only time we met was for a brief conversation. We stood by his tent and spoke, and although I didn’t see him again, his tent remained and was occupied by others. I mad sure I asked him his name, which was Aqil.

When I asked his name, it was as though I opened the window on a speeding car. Maybe he hadn’t had to introduce himself to someone in a while. He told me about his story. Continue reading “The Tent Designer”


Mobeen, the screw-up story

I screwed up Mobeen’s name the first time I met her. She came to us for an order for clothing and hygienic items. I always ask for names first to write at the top of the order, and so I can learn some faces. She said her name.


She nodded.

I wrote it down.

“No! Mobeennnn. E E N.”

“Ah, right”

We both smiled.  Continue reading “Mobeen, the screw-up story”