I hate mornings. I really do. If there’s anyone out there who claims to be biggest morning-hater in the world, bring it on. I’m telling you, no one hates mornings more than me. Man, when that alarm goes off, its a whole different story. I hate it. HATE IT. I don’t like mornings.Today’s morning shift […]

Yesterday was an interesting day. It was a day where I realised that my sense of disgust and horror was gone forever. It started off normal: I dragged myself out of bed, cussing and grumbling, came to work, recieved the handover and started work. Roughly 30 minutes later the first RTA was wheeled in: front

I haven’t been this disturbed in a while. I actually teared up. I could never imagine myself dealing with a situation like this. They brought their son in, all curled up and drooling. I assumed he was palsied, born that way. But no. He was fine. He was totally normal. He called the Azan for

Well then. Today was an interesting day. Yup. Innnteresting indeed. So I come to work and there’s kind of an uproar going on inside revolving around an Indonesian housemaid brought by the ambulance after being beaten with a metal rod by her employer and his wife. They’ve managed to break her fingers and an arm

I’m writing again. I can’t believe I am. It’s been AGES. I’m actually quite happy about it. Really. I don’t know what inspired it. Sure isn’t the stuff I’ve been reading lately! But anyway, now that I’m back I need to stay on track or else I’ll veer off again for another 2000 years. Been

Well then, it’s that time of the year again. I’m starting to hate August, really. Who ever invented birthdays anyway? And why the hell do people celebrate them? I mean, really? Besides, I’m just going to be 18 again so there’s not point. Really. This time last year I was a couple of weeks away

2 The world was spinning like a top around her and she couldn’t make it stop at all. It seemed everyone was talking to her from a great distance, and she couldn’t understand what they were saying. Her son had leukaemia, her Omar had leukaemia, that great big bad thing, the thing that hurts kills

1 They first noticed it when Omar came home from playschool with a bruise the size of a football on his chest. He had fallen off the swings in the playground. The swings were a foot’s height from the ground and he had fallen on a soft pile of sand. His mother studied the bruise

Its been getting harder and harder to get up in the mornings. Every day his knees feel a little stiffer and the creaks in his back sound a little louder. Sometimes he imagines he can hear the brittle joints of his fingers screeching in protest every time he reaches out for the ibrig. The sound

Sudan is one of those places that exist solely to test mankind’s faith in the Creator. It’s hot, dusty and packed to the rim with millions of people who hate each other. Wherever you look you are guaranteed a view much different than anything you’d see anywhere else. People black as tar and people with