Ex-Wife Confesses to Setting Kuwait Wedding Tent Fire
From today’s Kuwait Times So like, you are the taxi driver, a woman gets in your cab with two containers full of gasoline, and you drop her off at a wedding tent? (It doesn’t say if he was told to wait) Like wouldn’t that make you a little concerned?
Her maids knew about her threats. Wouldn’t you think someone might warn her family?
I know that there is a way of looking at this that makes it more comprehensible, but it is so far beyond me, except that I have heard multiple times about in-laws interfering in marriages, and I imagine it could make you homicidal. But oh, this is the stuff of legend.
If she was married to the groom in this wedding at one time, isn’t there a likelihood that she is from that same family?
Ex-wife consumed with burning anger
Published Date: August 18, 2009
By A Saleh, Staff writer
KUWAIT: The woman arrested in connection with the Jahra wedding tent fire, which killed 42 people and injured dozens more, some critically, has confessed to starting the blaze. The woman, the ex-wife of the bridegroom, made her confession during police questioning, which began at 2:30 am on Sunday morning. The questioning was personally supervised by Brigadier Sheikh Mazen Al-Jarrah, the Assistant Director General of Criminal Detectives for Governorate Affairs.
Asked about her motives for starting the fire, the unidentified 23-year-old woman said that she had wanted to take revenge on her parents-in-law, whom she accused of destroying her marriage. She added that she had argued continually with them, saying they wanted to “burn” her heart by making her ex-husband marry another woman. Asked by the interviewing officers whether she had experienced problems with her husband, she said these problems had increased because of his family, adding that he had begun to beat her and create problems due to believing what his family told him about her.
She said she had been considering setting the wedding tent alight since she learned about the wedding party, adding that nobody else had known about her plans. Asked if she had intended to kill those in the tent, she told officers, “Of course not. I only wanted to disturb the party.
When the officers questioning her asked if she knew that more than 40 people had died due to her actions and the number may increase, she collapsed and began crying. After calming down, she explained how she had set the tent on fire, telling officers that on the night of the wedding she had taken a taxi to the home of her parents-in-law in Jahra, carrying two bottles filled with petrol. On arriving, she simply walked up to the tent, poured the petrol on it and set it alight before fleeing. She then took an
other taxi and returned to her home.
While on her way there, she received a text message from her in-laws accusing her of starting the fire. She then called her brother and told him that she was going to Rabiya police station to register a complaint about the message. When the officers asked her if her brother knew that she was behind the fire, she said, “Of course not. I told him I was going out and he didn’t know about the fire.
The woman said that once she arrived at the police station to make the complaint, however, she said that the desk officer there refused to register it, telling her that nobody had accused her of anything. After that, she said, she had gone to her parents’ home until “you arrested me and sent me to the Criminal Investigation Department in Salmiya.
A total of 43 women and children have died and 90 other people were injured in the inferno, fire chief General Jassem Al-Mansouri said, the deadliest civilian disaster in the modern history of the Gulf state. Health Minister Helal Al-Sayer said that 38 wounded women have been discharged after receiving the necessary treatment. Of the 52 wounded still in hospital, at least five are in critical condition with extremely severe burns, the minister said, adding that some others have suffered moderate burns.
Thirty-one of the dead were buried on Sunday and yesterday while forensics officials are still busy trying to establish the identities of the other victims. At least seven of the dead are children. Specialized medical teams from Germany and Britain were scheduled to arrive yesterday to treat the injured.
Qatari Divorcees and Widows More Likely to Marry
This caught my eye for a couple reasons – one of which is that Qatar has the second largest divorce rate after Kuwait. Second, while it is mentioned in the article, it is not mentioned at the end that the women have other options in Kuwait and Qatar, are more able to care for themselves financially, and are not bound to stay in unhappy marriages for reasons of financial dependency.
It is delightful to think that one unhappy marriage while young will not doom a still-young woman to a life of celibacy. π
More Qataris tying the knot with divorcees and widows
Web posted at: 8/11/2009 2:41:41
Source ::: The Peninsula / By MOHAMED SAEED
DOHA: Qatar has the second largest divorce rate in the Gulf region after Kuwait, but a welcome development has been that now an increasing number of citizens prefer to marry divorcees and young widows.
Qatar being a conservative society, marrying divorcees and widows has been a taboo of sorts.So, since the largest number of divorcees is in the age group of 20 to 29 years, their remarriage is a healthy sign.
In 1986, for example, divorcees under 20 years of age accounted for 15 percent of the total. Their proportion has been declining and was down to 6.4 percent in 2007.
Studies conducted by the Permanent Population Committee (PPC) show the number of marriages breaking up in the country has risen from just 308 in 1986 to nearly a 1,000 in 2007.
And although the population of locals has also gone up in this period, the rates of marriage and divorce have risen at a larger rate than the population increase.
It is also interesting to note that nearly 85 percent of weddings ending into divorce are first marriages. In other words, a husband taking a second, third or even fourth wife has never been the cause for a wedlock to end.
With women having increasing access to education and employment, the number of married Qatari females asking for divorce (βkhulaβ in Arabic) has been on the rise. The share of such divorces in the total is on an average between 16 and 23 percent.
The studies note that financial independence of educated women has much to do with the rise in the phenomenon.
And as for male citizens marrying young divorcees and widows, the number of such marital knots had increased to nearly 300 in 2007 as compared to barely 29 in 1986.
Among the Arab countries, Egypt and Syria have the lowest divorce rates, suggest the studies.
They point to erosion of social values, modern living, fading influence of families, as the major factors behind the rising incidence of divorce in Qatar.
36 and Counting
I’ll be your pool-buddy,” AdventureMan said, as we lounged against the side of the pool. It was the best, the very best anniversary present he has ever given me.
My pool buddies are gone. One is coming back, one is not. The pool is big and beautiful, but being alone at the pool isn’t a lot of fun. Although AdventureMan doesn’t like pools as much as I do, he is willing to make the sacrifice – make the time – to make me happy.
We’ve been married 36 years. We didn’t go out last night, instead we had artichokes and tacos, and burned the wedding candle my parents gave us 36 years ago in Heidelberg. Artichokes, because at the first family dinner AdventureMan attended, my mom served artichokes as a first course, and AM thought it was some kind of a test. Tacos because in our 36 years together, it has always been one of our favorite meals, and because I found all kinds of Mexican food supplies in Qatar.
Then we walked over to the pool, swam, bounced around, talked, and when we got out – even though the temperatures were still high – there was a breeze, and we even felt just a tiny bit chilly! Chilly in the blazing heat of the Gulf summer is GOOD!
Just for our 36th anniversary, there was also a full moon. We walked home, cool and breezy, under the light of a great big romantic full moon. 36 years, and it just keeps getting better and better. π
Alexander McCall Smith: Tea Time for the Traditionally Built
This brand new book in the No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency series could not have come at a better time for me. Sorting through, giving away, selling my car – it all takes a toll. It’s a little like dying, this moving. I know I will be “resurrected” in another life, but in the meanwhile, I have so much grief, and I just stuff it away and keep going. These books are my carrots; they are my reward at the end of the day.
I have a stack of books and I am going through them like a locomotive – just chugging along.
Mma Precious Ramotswe and her totally different world in Botswana sweep me away totally. I love the sweetness of the way she thinks, her love for her country, and her tolerance. In Tea Time for the Traditionally Built, several things are going on at once, not the least of which is that she, also, must part with her dearly loved little white van, which has gone as far as it can go, and can go no further. The engine cannot be revived, not even one more time, by her dear husband, mechanic J.L.B. Matekoni.
Just in time, just when they need a new customer, comes Mr. Molofololo, the owner and manager of the Kalahari Swoopers, who hires Mma Ramotswe to find the traitor who is causing the Swoopers to lose their games.
Last, but not least, Mma Makutsi’s fiancee (she is the Assistant Detective now, remember?) Phuti Radiphuti, is being assaulted by Makutsi’s old rival from the secretarial school, Violet Sephotho, who is looking for a rich husband, and would love to steal Grace’s fiancee away, for all the worst reasons. How can plain Grace, with her big glasses and her unfortunate complexion, compete with the glamorous and seductive Violet? Can Phuti resist her wiles?
When I reached the last ten pages of the book, none of these crises had been resolved, and I thought “Oh no! How can the book end with all these loose ends out there?” but in a deft drawing together, McCall vanquishes the devils, finds simple solutions, and leaves us with Mma Ramotswe and Mma Makutsi having tea together at the President Hotel.
This book is a great way to end the day with a smile on your face. π I bought this book for $21 in a bookstore, but Amazon has it for $14.37 plus shipping. I don’t buy a lot of hardcover books, but this one was worth every penny.
Sorry Jesus, I’m Packing Boxes
Our priest in the Anglican congregation is a truly inspired preacher. He knows how to get your attention, and then he tells you something really important.
Yesterday (Yes! I was listening!) he was talking about the importance in our spiritual life of community. While, in Christianity, we have a tradition of worshiping privately and in solitude, one of the things Jesus said over and over was to take care of one another, “feed my sheep”, that we are to be known to the outside world by the way we love one another, and the practice of that kind of brotherly love must be done in community. He gave one example, marriage, as an opportunity to show God how much you love him by loving and taking good care of your spouse, that we are to serve him by loving one another.
Pastor Andy gave the example of the Alcoholics Anonymous community, where they have buddies who can be called any time, night or day, when a crisis comes up and there is temptation to drink. He was saying we all need someone we know we can count on, and encouraged us to find spiritual buddies.
On the way out the door, I heard him ask the guy in front of me if he had plans for lunch. When we shook hands, he asked me the same question, and I laughed and said “Yes, I am packing boxes.”
As I was on my way home, it was like that old light bulb went on in my head and I thought “Oh no! That was a test!” Andy was just telling us we need to be part of a fellowship, we need to visit with one another in relaxed conditions, we need to know one another so we know who we can count on! It was as if Jesus invited me to lunch, and I said ‘Sorry, I have to pack boxes!’
I FLUNKED!
So I started beating myself up (in my mind) about flunking. The good thing is, as you pack boxes, it’s kind of like exercise, once you have two or three done, good endorphins kick in and you feel better about things. Eating lunch helps, too.
Andy Thompson, at the Anglican Church – St. Paul’s Kuwait – is smart, committed and hard working, and also a lot of fun. This post is for you, Andy, to show you that your sermons really do make a difference, even if you don’t see it, and that we take what you say home with us, and mull it over, and, hopefully, like a tiny seed planted, if we nurture it, it will bear fruit. π
Susan Wittig Albert: Nightshade
In her ongoing China Bayles mystery series, China and her husband investigate the death of China’s father, with some amazing outcomes.
These are not heavy reading. This series features a burned-out criminal defense lawyer, who, sick of the slime and the jockying for power and position, cashes in her retirement plans and buys a shop in the small fictional town of Pecan Springs, Texas, where she opens an herbal shop, Thyme and Seasons, which sells live potted herbs, but also herbal wreaths, herbal soaps, herbal bath bombs, herbal teas, herbal shampoos, etc – and shares space with a new age shop called The Crystal Cave, a tea shop called Thyme for Tea, a catering company called Party Thyme and a personal chef service called Thymely Gourmet. She and her girlfriends have a lot of fun.
And, somehow, even in this idyllic life, mysteries seek out China, and she is often involved in crime-solving outside of her normal business. This time, her brother – the brother she never knew she had, the brother her father had with his secretary while China was growing up, wondering where her father was all the time – is murdered, in what appears to be a hit-and-run accident, but is no accident at all. Her brother was trying to get China involved with finding out how and why their father died – another apparent accident, which was no accident. When China isn’t interested (she is still very angry with her dad for what she perceives as a betrayal of her and her mother), her brother hires China’s husband as a private detective to examine the evidence. Then – her brother is killed. China gets involved.
It’s great escape reading, but you often end up learning something, too. China is an idealist, fighting crime and corruption, and God knows, there is enough of that, all the world around, to keep a legion of fictional crime fighters busy.
“After I grew up and joined the Houston legal fraternity, I began to understand what was common knowledge in that gossip-driven oil company town: Robert Bayles and his partner Ted Stone had built their legal practice on dubious oil and energy deals, questionable land transactions, and political dirty work. Their clients included polluters, looters and influence peddlers. Both Ted Stone and my father were frequent guests of the Suite 8F crowd, the group of influential conservatives who met on the eighth floor of Houston’s Lamar Hotel and collectively decided who was going to run for what political office, at the state level and beyond. To ensure that their picks – LBJ had been one of them – made it to the winner’s circle, Suite 8F slipped wads of campaign cash into the necessary pockets. Their contributions decided which politicians moved into positions of power and influence.
Just as important, their money brought them preferential treatment when the bidding opened on lucrative government contracts for dams, ships and shipyards, oil pipelines, military bases at home and abroad, NASA’s Johnson Space Center in Houston. The Lamar Hotel was demolished in 1983 to make room for a skyscraper, but the political influence of 8F lingers like a foul odor, a dirty fog. It’s the subject of books, of doctoral dissertations, of documentaries. It’s common knowledge.”
Reading Albert is a great escape. Even knowing that sweet little Pecan Springs is a microcosm of the rest of the world, not untouched by human frailty, it is a sweet place with a culture all its own. China’s life, surrounded by her loving husband, her stepson, all their pets, their friends, the places they eat, it’s all comfortable, an herbal scented different world.
Strasbourg Magic
It is perfect May weather in Strasbourg right now – warm and sunny, even hot, one minute, crashing thunder, lightning and pouring rain the next. One minute you are catching the last rays of the sun on the Strasbourg Cathedral, and the next, you are ducking into the nearest restaurant to get out of the rain, have a little wine and flammekeuchen, give the weather a chance to change once again and you are on your way.
Besides the fact that we always have a lot of fun in Strasbourg – it is a great town for walking – remember that shoe store that was closed for the holiday on Friday? I have French feet; German shoes are too wide, American shoes are too serious . . .but French shoes are always just right. We go again, first thing Saturday morning, and they have all the newest shoes in the yummiest colors and they have them all in my size!
Just look at these colors! Grape! Orange sherbet! Fuscia/raspberryt! I am not really so much a shoe person, but oh! When the right shoe comes along! I know it! AdventureMan waits patiently, smiling indulgently, as I try on almost everything in my size.
Looking at me seriously, he says “Buy what you want! Who knows when you will be back in Strasbourg? I insist, you must buy at least four pair!” (Now THAT is true love.)
Truly a magical day in Strasbourg. π
Breaking all the rules
I’m breaking all the rules I made for myself. I didn’t know how to tell you I was leaving, but I thought I would tell you after I left.
Actually, I am not gone yet. My husband and I just grabbed an opportunity for a quick Mother’s Day getaway (Americans celebrate Mother’s Day this coming Sunday) and I am in France, drowning my sorrows π and walking and eating really delicious salads and pretending I am not up to my ears in boxes.
There are lilacs blooming everywhere, and wisteria. There are still some tulips. There are hydrangea. It is a riot of new life, color and growth. I am enjoying myself immensely. Very soon, it will be over and I will be back in Kuwait, packing boxes.
I will tell you more later, and even share some photos with you.
You are all so dear to me. I can’t tell you how much it hurts to move on. Usually, I cope by not thinking about it, just doing it. Somehow, in this situation, I don’t think that’s going to work very well.
Thank you for all your sweet thoughts. I haven’t decided if I will keep blogging; circumstances change . . . I will have to see if I even have anything to blog about!
Jodi Picoult: Handle With Care
I just finished the latest Jodi Picoult novel, Handle with Care. I was uncomfortable with it at the beginning, as I often am with Jodi Picould novels. She’s like that guest who brings up topics no one else brings up, and sometimes you wish she would stop, but the conversation gets rolling and everyone has an opinion, and the party would be much duller if she weren’t there.
She’s also the friend you would go to if you had an embarrassing problem you couldn’t discuss with anyone else. We all need that kind of friend, an honest sounding board, not afraid to deal with the grit and grime of everyday life.
I know the reason her books make me uncomfortable is that sometimes I see things I don’t like about myself in her characters.
The subject of the book is a disease called osteogenesis imperfecta (OI), and Willow, the youngest daughter, has Type III, which means she was born with broken bones, her bones would break if you picked her up wrong, changed her diaper the wrong way, even if she rolled over. Her bones were brittle, and the slightest thing could cause a break. She is also very smart, and a delightful character.
Picoult takes us inside many heads – the mother, Charlotte, a former pastry chef (Picoult includes some of her very best recipes, YUMMMM), Sean, the fiercely loving father, Amelia, a troubled pre-teen who hides her bulemia and cutting, and Marin, the lawyer, searching for her own birth mother. When Charlotte files a wrongful birth suit against her best friend – and obstetrician – Piper, her life starts to fall apart. It’s hard to believe things could get worse than having a child whose bones break all the time, but things definitely get worse.
What I hated about Charlotte, who has learned to anticipate her damaged child’s needs, is seeing myself through her eyes. Frequently, she shows us our insensitivity to the disabled, how we patronize, how we are oblivious to the simplest needs. Charlotte is a little angry at the world, so protective that she bites back scathing words to outsiders – or doesn’t. People without disabilities – visible disabilities, we all have disabilities, don’t we, just some are visible and some are not? – can be so smug, so unaware of the hardships others face. I cringe when I read this book. I see myself, and I don’t like what I see.
I admire Jodi Picoult. I will read just about anything she has written, because of the courage she has to tackle the most sensitive subjects. This is not a comfortable book to read, but it is a worthwhile book to read.
Cell Phone Etiquette: What do you think?
AdventureMan and I were having lunch yesterday and I saw a couple at another table, both on their cell phones. So, like they were sharing a meal, but not really sharing time with each other.
I’m not that big of a cell/mobile phone fan, although my son and my sister both have iPhones, which I look at with envy and think one day I will get one. I carry it because I think it would really be a bad thing in Kuwait to be in a car accident, not my fault, with our without a cell phone. I carry it so I can reach my husband in an emergency. But sometimes, yes, my bad, I forget it and don’t even miss it. Sometimes I stick it in my purse and remember two days later that it is still there.
Here is how I see it. If you are with another person – like if you and your best-friend-forever are having lunch, sharing your deep down secrets, how do you feel about them taking a phone call, one that really doesn’t matter? I totally understand if there are emergencies, or even if one of the children wants to ask something, but what about a full-blown conversation? Chat chat chat chat chat as if you don’t exist?
AdventureMan and I used to disagree about this. Now, if he gets a phone call and he thinks it can wait, he doesn’t answer. If he thinks it might be important, he answers but keeps it short. If we are in a large group and it is a crisis call, he will leave the group, and not subject us to be unwilling evesdroppers. I am very comfortable with this. if it is just the two of us and a tricky phone call comes in, I just pull out my Sudoku and work on a puzzle until he is free to rejoin me. It works for us.
I feel the same way about texting. Some people are very good at doing it so subtly that no one else knows; I don’t mind that. If you are in a meeting, however, and there is a speaker, don’t you think the right thing to do is to put away your phone and pay attention to the speaker? If you are with a friend, isn’t it rude to be texting all the time to someone else? What kind of message does that send about how much you value the relationship with me?
If you are texting while you are driving, how much attention are you paying to the road? I see you, half in my lane because you are trying to read the response!
I don’t like being accessible to the world 24/7. I think these mobile phones are supposed to be our servants, not our masters. I like seeing who is calling (if your number doesn’t show your name on my phone, I won’t be answering!) I like getting and sending messages. I just have a feeling there is a time and place for everything. If I have made plans to see you – I want you to pay attention to me!
Am I way out of whack on this?
There is a little voice telling me this is generational, that I am falling a little out of step with the modern way of doing things. So, you tell me. How do you see it?
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