Amr is happy. He looks at Gadija and her brothers. They're clothes look expensive. Those patterns in Gadija's dress are hand woven, those don't come cheap. Her scarf is heavy and yet fine in texture. Those turbans that the brothers are wearing don't come cheap either. Amr sighs. He looks at his son, Malik. Excited face. His everyday, white shirt and white pants, that reaches to his ankles. Those sandals. Always clean and neat. Amr sighs again. He thinks disappointment