By Nima Omar She moves with the city, almost as if she is part of it. We walk through narrow alleyways, past apartment buildings and abandoned sites, her sharp eyes scanning the ground, quick and precise. As we step onto the main road, the pulse of Addis Ababa quickens with cars honking, crowds moving in all directions. Her movements shift, fluid, instinctive. She weaves through traffic, sidestepping cars and obstacles with ease. It is fast but never rushed. She knows exactly where to look, what to pick, and what she can sell.