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Africa

Maria was in a reflective mood as she cooked Sadza (stiff porridge) for her husband, as she thought about recording her memories. She had just read a story in The Guardian newspaper about ox-pulled ambulances in many parts of rural Zimbabwe. A pathetic picture in the story depicted one such an ambulance. Her heart goes out to her fellow country men and women who have to face grinding poverty on a daily basis. “Oho, what a pity”, Maria thought as she considers how lucky she was to have escaped poverty in her own country by coming to the United Kingdom (UK).

You could feel the pressure, or at least, the short and stout man clad in a dark blue safari suit standing in the witness box, could feel the pressure in the packed court house. Although it was cold, no amount of mopping with his handkerchief could eliminate the beads of sweat that were breaking on his clean shaven face like dew. To him, the deadly silence in the court was like a lull before a devastating storm.

US/Canada

There have been critics over Western psychosocial interventions in conflict areas. Most experts intervening to the fields are Western, working in different countries all over the world: Africa, Asia, and Southern America mainly. They face a big challenge related to the culture and customs, and they are not familiar with local traditions at all. Sometimes their work gets undermined by the lack of local context knowledge, which would ease their incomparable efforts to save lives for a better world.

Freedom isn’t free…nearly always, somebody has paid dearly for it: and many of our forefathers (and mothers) paid with their lives for the freedom we Americans now enjoy. And for those of us already free, continued freedom must be paid for daily by our ongoing vigilance and due diligence, and challenges to our freedoms must be swiftly and aggressively opposed. We must never take freedom for granted, and due diligence requires that we stay informed. In most instances, the usurpation of our freedoms comes from within; witness Hitler’s takeover of Germany.

As far as David knew, Artie was the world’s ultimate computer geek. When he used to work, he never had fewer than six monitors on his desk at any time. Most times there were more than ten, and who knows what they were connected to. As he rapped out music on the three or four keyboards anyone could see, the computer processors would hum generating so much heat they had to move him to his own air conditioned area with fans blowing cold air up through the floor. And those machines were just the connection boxes to the massive mainframe systems that ran the crazy programs he worked on night and day. Artie was a computer geek of the most serious kind.

Europe

Once we had finished the pies it was time to wander round the shops. I had intended to pick up a couple of things for my apartment, which was still looking a little sparse even though I had been living there almost a year. I had all the chairs, tables and beds I needed, but it still lacked something. It was all a bit new, clean and rather clinical. Even I recognized that it lack the feminine touch, and I could now use Amaya to add a little of that. I was determined to get some feminine touch out of Amaya one way or another.

Latin America

This article exposes some points of reflexion about the right to abortion as part of a human’s rights question. Therefore, it is important a deep understanding about the ways that this question have been thought in Brazil, where there are restricted laws and a high maternal mortality rate decurrent of unsafe abortions. The discussion that is intended focuses on these consequences of unsafe abortion. Furthermore, is present in this discussion the idea of sanctification of women as mothers in Brazil, and how this social construction influences the debate about (un)safe abortion.

Asia

'What's with Henry? He's super quiet lately.' Louis asked his sister several days later. 'Seems to be spending a lot of time moping around with his lizards and not much else and I notice he's struggling to finish evening meals. Just stuffing it in and not asking for seconds. Love? He hasn't gone gooey on that girl from the pie-fight has he?' 'I don't know, and now I know that you don't know either.' Priscilla answered, rolling her rubbish bin alongside Louis who was propelling the re-cycle bin out to the front nature strip.

Managing the Boss is like managing one’s wife: one must give more than what one wants to get, but ironically, the wife afterwards thinks she has gotten less than she gave. “Then why the hell do I ever need to manage him?” you might be asking the author. Well, it is because he wants to be managed.

Middle East

She sat in front of her room. The roof was made of plates of metal. She was in the camp waiting for her boy – one of her pearls - to come and appear before her, coming from the school. Counting on her life not her death, her children always await her, expect her, long for her and that which she counts on. The view of life is different from other places; the camp is a terribly poor place, full of poverty. She does not expect much from the others but she does what she must do. There was a stream of dirty polluted water in front of her; the polluted water crossed the camp between its sides. That water came from what one can hardly describe as houses. Insects fill the place in summer and usually a hot summer comes in Jordan. There was a piece of every person in that stream. It was not covered.

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