His name is Alemayehu. A university graduate, medium height, stout, fierce looking with dreamy eyes, was quietly sitting on parched golden grass, longingly looking far into the depth of a famished road, shortly before the moon was about to replace the sun, on a typical Ethiopian day moving towards a beautiful evening.

After a full day's work driving a taxi, from six in the morning into the early evening, he finally collapsed on the top of a pile of grass, thinking about life. The change of the day into night reminded him of man's fate as a steady movement towards death. He sat there wearing that dignified Ethiopian face for a very long time. Far into the other end of his view are the Azmari places, opening their doors to welcome those who can afford to drink inside them well into dawn. To his right he turned to see a flock of sheep, which were being harassed by a shepherd, who looked tired of life.

Alemayehu wondered how much money he had made for the day, and began counting anxiously, as if this day will be miraculously different from the other days. He took the money out of an old handkerchief that has been used by time. He counted for quite a while, and unhappily announced to himself that he has made five birr. He said to himself, "I slaved for the entire week in the savagery of the heat, the miserably rainy nights, drove on crooked and stony streets, battling unruly customers. In addition, all that I have to show for myself is five birr. This cannot be, this cannot be, please help me God".

He covered his intelligent face in shame, as if, as if, it is his fault Shortly after that encounter with despair, he fell into deep sleep, protected by that luminous moon in the deep blue sky, and dreamt that he was sitting on a large meadow grass with patches densely populated by rich sun-flowers in their bloom; the brims of the meadow are replete with red flowers adjoining a long stream flowing to a river, encircled by tall mountains on whose peak stand large villas, next to a meandering narrow country road. On this well-traveled gravel road, trail many large and small trucks carefully paced behind each other, like lonely stars. He then gazed down to the ocean, from the highest summit of Ethiopian Mountains. All that he could see is the ocean. Nearby the ocean, is a huge expanse of paved land covered by dark blue stones. Little houses fill the gaps of the expanse. In front of every little house is a boat-a long line of multicolored boats, neatly decked on long ropes tied to the shores of the ocean. The dark blue stones were laced by gray and black pebble half covered by running water that made similar sound like a brook. Inside the caving of the running water, he could see frogs merrily leaping, little ants aggressively sojourning somewhere. A little further, he heard children speaking to a brilliant voice, comforting them. The voice told them that they will overcome, and one day they will celebrate life with their broken parents.

Alemayehu, opens his eyes to the world in terror. He simply could not begin to fathom the meaning of the dream. All that he could say is that this is an inappropriate and meaningless dream for an Ethiopian. When he woke up, he noticed that he was tightly holding on to his five birr, which was squeezed in his palms. He shook his coat and freed it from the intrusive grass and annoying flies that were fixated on his body. Being the father of three children, born to three different mothers, whom he could not marry, the young Alemayehu is unbearably weighed by the heaviness of responsibility. On the average, after working every minute of the full day and part of the night, for the past seven years, since he graduated from the university, at the end of every month, if he is lucky, he will end up with 50 birr, which are dispersed among the three mothers of his children. He is always left with 10 birr for himself. Therefore, he decided to live outside, and save the money, which would otherwise be spent on rent. Instead, he has developed the habit of visiting friends and relatives after nine p.m., occasionally, he falls asleep at the places he visits, and creatively avoids fighting the cruelty of some cold and rainy nights. He has spent many nights in this clever way. At other times, two to three nights a week, he sleeps outside. wherever His sleep is disturbed by hungry dogs barking the whole night, famished cats turning garbage containers and hunting mice, and desperate beggars chanting songs of sorrow, and church bells inviting their hypocritical believers to save their souls.

He said to himself, "When are things going to change? I have fought for change since my university days. However, everything is still the same. Time moves too slowly in Ethiopia." He raised his voice a little and said "God, if you are there, please speak. Speak God, speak to me" he repeated.

For the first time in his life, he shed some long tears of sorrow, and was ashamed, because he felt that he is less of a man. For Ethiopian men are not supposed to cry

He reached his pocket, pulled out five birr, and looked at the money again. He felt relieved that the money is still there, afraid that, it might have disappeared. He had lost money in the past in so many mysterious ways.

Meanwhile, evening is fast turning into a dark night. The hyenas and other nocturnal beasts are preparing to emerge and disturb the quiet of the night. Dogs are barking crazily. The flickering lights in the tin houses of prostitutes are fading. A certain prostitute is screaming her head out, and is heard saying, "Please pay, you dog, you scum of the earth". An orchestra of her colleagues is screaming in unison, and can be seen running after the felon, to no avail. The thief had disappeared in the labyrinth of Kotobe. Through his tired eyes, Alemayehu, could see through the cracks of the old doors of Asmari places, ateeming crowd of drunk customers, dancing away towards dawn, preparing themselves to go to work straight from their whisky glasses. It is the tired bodies who man Ethiopia's inept bureaucracy. Alemayehu looks forward to these cursed nights, because it is out of these drunks that he ekes out a meager salary to feed his ever-hungry children, who are waiting for his so-called salary.

He had barely slept five hours. He woke up, washed his face with water that he had saved in a bottle, started his car, and began waiting on departing customer from the numerous Asmari places nearby and began another miserable day.