"Kazi, dear, could you help me stitch this?"
Ripped clothing was common and so stitching was a skill all the women knew. Their clothes weren't elaborate but they did necessitate quality for the sake of warmth. Kazi was an infant when he began helping his mother and five and a half when he surpassed her in skill.
The older Kazi was pleased that he got up to help. This season, his father had found a decent patch of land that was growing potatoes. If all went well, by the end of the month, they would be able to sell it and enroll him into the school down south.
"Baba, not too much water."
"Okay, okay."
"Remember, the base, not the leaves."
Kazi explored and observed the neighbouring farms. He talked, he learned, and he applied every observation and every lesson to their own potatoes.
