The instalments nobody mentions

At a family gathering in Cairo on a Friday afternoon, the conversation will cover the league table, a cousin's new car, the price of everything, and which neighbour is moving.

It will not cover the instalments.

Half the people in that room are paying for something monthly. A phone, a fridge, a laptop for school, a course for a son. The plans are easy to start and hard to add up, and almost nobody knows what anyone else is carrying. Sometimes that includes the person carrying it.

Because it is never discussed, it never improves. Nobody compares the true cost of one plan with another. Nobody warns the younger cousin before the first one. The businesses that sell on monthly terms grow quietly, and the discomfort of being stretched stays private, which is exactly what keeps the arrangement in place.

Plenty of things work this way. The ones that last unchanged are often guarded by a silence that makes the subject feel rude to raise.

Meanwhile the things we do talk about get endless attention. Football is argued over in detail in every sitting room, so football is analysed, coached and refined. Whatever is discussed gets better at being whatever it is.

That is the lever, and almost anyone can pull it. Decide what actually matters, then make it ordinary to talk about. In the family group, at the gathering, on a seller's own page.

A thing that can be spoken about can finally be fixed.