By FATIMA SUGAPONG
RABAT, Morocco- Fatima Bamu sits down very slowly, exhausted after an eleven hour workday. Her wrinkled, leathery brown hands, worn from 40 years of working in a public bath house known to the Rabat citizens as the hammam, rested on her lap. She closed her eyes as she kept her prayers close to the ring of her lips.
Everyone in the room respected her privacy. She rocked in a small back-and-forth motion in her tan djelleba, a piece of traditional Moroccan clothing, and her scarf.
“I do my job because I don’t have any other way to live,” Bamu said.
