She has read that flash before

A packet of crackers in a supermarket in Kafr El Sheikh carries a bright flash across one corner: better taste, same price.

The shopper reads it, nods slightly, and believes none of it. Not because she is cynical by nature. Because she has read that flash on a hundred packs, and on a good number of them the price crept up within months, the packet got lighter, and the taste stayed where it was. A lifetime of shelves has taught her what those words usually turn out to mean.

This is the trouble with saying something true when it contradicts what people have lived. They are polite. They hear you out. And they go on expecting exactly what they expected before, because their expectation was built from evidence and your claim is only print.

The more sincere the message, the more this stings. The maker may really have improved the recipe. It may really be holding the price. The people who decided may mean every letter. None of that reaches someone who learned the hard way to discount a promise on a wrapper.

The way through is slow and plain. Hold the price, visibly, for longer than anyone expects. Let the cracker be better in the mouth rather than on the pack. Let her discover it herself and mention it to her sister.

Things people see for themselves get believed, eventually. Things they are told, in a market that has heard every version before, get a nod and nothing more.