An Egyptian woman had her marriage of 15 years annulled after she discovered her husband (unspecified nationality) was posting explicit photos of himself and chatting with “foreign” women on the Internet.

The son of the woman’s neighbor had seen the photos and shown them to his mother who in turn informed the scorned woman.

After the woman saw the explicit photos of her husband, she wasted no time in seeking help from the marriage counseling centre. However, her husband refused to attend and accused her of insanity and attempting to defame him.

In the end, she sought an annulment of the marriage through the court and won her case.

Sourceمصرية “تخلع” زوجها بعد اكتشافها صوره العارية على الإنترنتإ

If you found yourself in a similar situation, what would you do?

Monday evening at the Avenues Wonder Mall, Kuwait.

A young man wears the following words: This T-shirt is Fucking Expensive

Should we care? Is that his way of rebelling? Of speaking out? Or of delighting in being offensive?

Arriving at the top of the escalator, a fair woman sits facing those coming up. She clutches a bundle to her breast. Ah, she is nursing in public but one cannot really tell, as she is covered with a swaddling blanket. (She could be nursing a kitten for all we know; sorry, I was reminded of a clip I saw not too long ago about Japanese women nursing cats).

The woman’s eyes are on me, daring me to look. I use my peripheral vision at this point to discern any further details. Her companion, a Phillipina, stands close to her, in a guarded position, her eyes also warding off any intruders.

I think of the innumerable times I have blatantly nursed in public, oblivious of all those around me, like a fat mother cat, breasts heavy with fresh milk, and ah the relief of feeling it streaming automatically into the hungry infant’s mouth. At moments like those, I felt most in touch with my primal role on this earth. To create life, to nurture, to feed, and to love.

I soon forget about breastfeeding and concentrate on finding my way through the maze of the Wonder Mall.

I heard about the flower exhibit at the Avenues. I looked down upon it from the second floor, thought of taking out my camera, then decided it was not worth it. Perhaps if I leaned over far enough, I would tip over, and then naturally take flight. Imagine me flying across the length and breadth of the Avenues, looking upon all the lost souls wandering aimlessly, some not so aimlessly, others with empty hearts, and plenty of time, who sit with ill-concealed intention in pseudo outdoor cafes that look out onto the centre of the Wonder Mall.

From up here, it looks like a painting full of people, a cage, an enclosure, to keep you all safe but not from each other.