Trip to Arba Minch - Day 5
December 13th 2010 I still remember, when I was a child I was always begging my grandfather to tell again and again my favourite story. He just peacefully rolled his cigarette, lit it, deeply inhaled the smoke and in the random light of the pipe he said the following words.
It was drought, big drought. We had no thing to eat, no thing to drink. We prayed for rain, but there was none, the sky gave no answer. But
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