I met Akbar a number of times on my many trips through the bustling market of Saddar. "Probably six months ago," is what he said when I asked him when he first smoked heroin. Not the typically destitute addict, Akbar had been previously employed as a driver. There was no remorse or disappointment in his eyes as he lit up another fix. The smoke sprang up from the foil and made its way into my lungs as I took the shot. Dazed, I sat next to Akbar for some time waiting for the world to stop spinning.