This was the moment when Four Corners reporter, Linton Besser, asked Prime Minister Najib Razak the thorny question that got him and cameraman, Louie Eroglu, arrested by Malaysia police. After being prohibited from leaving the country, and told they would be charged, the authorities finally allowed them to leave the country earlier today.
Hi We are demolishing our house at Broadbeach Waters and in the wall cavity we found a picture of two young people and a bottle of perfume. Amazingly the bottle still has perfume in it. The house is30 years old. Could you post for me? Wonder if these ppl are still around? I'd love to get to the bottom of it. Regards Vesna Bogdan.
My father was executed when I was 9. I remember visiting him in jail, walking down this dark corridor and he was at the end of it. He had made me and my brothers necklaces from date seeds. After he was executed, they didn’t give us a gravestone or anything. I remember going to the gravesite with mum and it was just like a massive oval, and you didn’t know where anyone was. I still kick myself to this day that I didn’t keep that necklace he gave me. He had engraved my name into it.
After that, my mum was worried they would come after her, as she was constantly harrassed and taken in for questioning, so we decided to leave everything behind and escape to Turkey. After a few months there, we were accepted by the UN to go to Canada. But the week we got accepted, the political party that my dad had been involved with staged a protest in front of the Iranian embassy in Canada, and burned the Canadian flag. Because of that, Canada rejected our case and the United Nations said they were going to deport us back to Iran.
Because of that, we had to became illegal refugees. We hid in a building in Ankara with around 300 other refugees, and when we went out on the street, we couldn’t talk to each other in our language in case the undercover police found us. Then, some overseas relatives of ours sent Mum some money and she organised a smuggler to take us into Greece by boat with around 20 others. It’s amazing to remember how my mum made all that fun and games for us. That boat was sinking and we thought it was fun, you know splashing out the water with our hands.
In Athens, I sold black market cigarettes in one of the squares, and my brothers sold lottery tickets and shined shoes. One day, I was approached by an undercover cop who pretended he wanted to buy cigarettes from me. After he caught me, I said, ‘I don’t have a Dad, so please let me go!’ And he let me off, and even gave me back the cigarettes. He was so kind. Another time, a man who bought a lottery ticket from my brother won a lot of money, so he gave us some. We also met a lovely family who had a restaurant which they weren’t using, and they let us live there. So we were lucky.
A few months later, we went to the Australian embassy and told them our story and the lady was so lovely, she just said, ‘Welcome to Australia’ straight away. And 6 months later, we arrived in Adelaide. It was the most liberating feeling, to not have that fear anymore. I remember going to Foodland and buying all these things, and it just felt surreal.
I did 6 months of English lessons, then I got put into year 8. High school was really tough for me. I had missed 4 years of school, and I still didn’t know things like the Aussie lingo, or how to play netball, so I got bullied quite a lot. Then Mum decided to move just so we could go to a more multicultural school. I did really well after that, and got into Commerce at uni.
But by my 3rd year, Commerce just didn’t interest me. I had started making jewellery and wholesaling it to boutiques, and I also had a huge collection of vintage dresses, which I loved. One day, Mum said to me, either you get rid of all this stuff or you do something with it! So I decided to leave uni and start up my own business, Azalia. Initially, it was a vintage store, but as the years progressed, I supported more and more local, up and coming, designers and that became my focus. Now there are 3 Azalia Boutiques, and it has become a bit of a name in Adelaide.
I knew I could do it. Once you’ve run away for your life, there’s just no fear. And having that trade built in me from an early age played an important role. I wasn’t playing with dolls and princesses as a child, it was always about how can I make money, how can I help Mum feed us?
When I look at it now, I feel like everything happens for a reason, the way everything has fallen into place. We live in a beautiful country, I’ve met my husband, who is so supportive, and I’ve got 2 gorgeous girls. I would not have had this life without coming here.
My mum is such a strong person. As a mum, I can break down quite easily because of silly things, and at those times, I’m just reminded that she never made it a scary thing for us. She never had that fear in her face, although I’m sure she felt it, having three little kids with nothing.
She sacrificed a lot for us, which I’m very thankful for.
Azadeh Iran Arrived 1996
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Obama, remember your promises to Native American Nations? Here's a quick reminder.
This Obama footage is from his speech at the 1st Tribal Nations Conference in 2009, and his 8th and final Tribal Nations Conference which took place in September this year.
#NoDAPL #WaterIsLife #DontPlayItOut #StandWithStandingRock -------------------------------------- - "Obama's Legacy Rests on Whether He Stops Dakota Access Pipeline" - Dave Archambault II, Chair of the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe. http://www.democracynow.org/2016/10/17/standing_rock_sioux_tribe_chair_we -------------------------------------- - 10 Ways you can help the Standing Rock Sioux Fight the Dakota Access Pipeline: http://thejuicemedia.com/nodapl/ -------------------------------------- - Follow these Pages to stay up to date with the latest info and be prepared to raise awareness across all social media: Sacred Stone Camp | Red Warrior Camp | Standing Rock Sioux Tribe | Unicorn Riot | West Coast Women Warriors Media Cooperative | The Stimulator | Warriors for Wolves & Wild Horses World News -------------------------------------- - Credits: * Video edited by Giordano. Music by Fletch: White Nile * Thanks to Dawn, Adso, Franklin, Damian & Dave for ace feedback * Footage gratefully borrowed from: Unicorn Riot, DemocracyNow! TheYoungTurks. Drone footage by Shiyé Bidzííl - Dr0ne2bwild. * Photos: Tom Stromme/BismarckTribune, Andrew Cullen/Reuters, @GeorgeBearClaw, Xian Chiang-Waren, Christopher Juhn/MPR, Rob Wilson, Counter Curent News, Dallas Goldtooth (pls let me know if a credit is missing!)
Doughnut Ice Cream Sliders!! Our newest creations have arrived in stores today. Choose from delicious Kookies & Kreme and Salted Caramel Sliders. See inside the sliders at https://goo.gl/YdkfXb Not available at Sydney Domestic T3, Melbourne T4 and Melbourne T1 Qantas, 7-Eleven, Jesters and BP Travel Centres.
After finishing a rugby league game recently, the kids at Cooma North Public school were heading back to the bus when they noticed an 81-year-old man trying to move a huge pile of wood. Without hesitation, the boys and their families decided to help him out, finishing the job in no time. What little legends! (Credit: Facebook/Cooma North Public School) #9Today
RANT Warning: If you are feeling up and positive and don’t want to think about the dark side, please don’t read this post.
Most days I can see the bright side, most of the time I feel grateful for what I have, but there are days when I just get fed up. I don’t normally talk about the sucky side of my experience here, because I don’t want this to be a place of negativity, but enough is enough, I have had it up to here with cancer and it’s time to drop my lolly.
There are the obvious things about cancer, the nausea and fatigue, the hair loss and the pain. Then there are the things we don’t talk about. I haven’t had a normal shit in 6 years. It’s always constipation from the pain medication, or the opposite from the medication to offset that. I have been going through chemically induced menopause since I was 33, the hot flushes are unbearable and the night sweats so bad that I sometimes have to change all of my bedding several times a night. I now have to wear continence aids because I keep wetting myself. The vomiting is unpredictable, I don’t know if I will keep down each meal. My legs are swelling so much that I can’t walk, so I have to wear compression bandages that are tight, difficult to put on, expensive and hot (and not terribly attractive). Same with my right arm, after having 36 lymph nodes removed. I’m scared to leave the house because I don’t want to wet myself in public, or end up in a gutter throwing up. And it might seem trivial to worry about being bald, but I hate not having hair, I feel self-conscious and can’t stand the sight of myself. I have covered all the mirrors in the house so I don’t accidentally see myself and get that brutal reminder that I have cancer. I take a minimum of 28 tablets per day, each one of them is a reminder that the only reason I am alive is because of all the medication. I am always tired, even when I first wake up. Just walking to the toilet is an effort sometimes. My tastebuds have gone haywire, so food doesn’t have a taste. It’s hard to be enthusiastic about anything that just feels like cardboard in your mouth. There are constant trips to hospital, mostly as an outpatient, thankfully, but I am so sick of that place, and I am going to have to spend more and more time there as the disease progresses. There is constant fear. Fear that each little ache and pain is more cancer, and fear that the cancer is winning. Then on top of that I have to listen to people tell me that if I eat apricot kernels or marijuana cookies I will be cured and that pharmaceutical companies are hiding the cure because they want to keep making money off chemo. It’s ridiculous. They could charge heaps more for a cure than they could ever charge for current medications. Let’s face it, I would double mortgage my house, and sell my soul to buy a cure! And then I get told that if I think positively I will beat it. Once cancer has metastasised it is NOT curable. I will not survive this cancer. No matter how positive I am, I will die of this disease. The best I can hope for is to live a bit longer, knowing that the life I do get to squeeze in will be full of appointments, waiting rooms, needles, medication, and side effects. And I am one of the lucky ones, I have been able to live longer than expected because there was a drug that stabilised my cancer for a long time.
Sorry to whinge. I don’t want sympathy. I just want to acknowledge how cruel and relentless cancer is. How hard it is to live with. I thank you for your support, and I do understand how fortunate I am to be so loved and well supported. Heaps of people have cancer. But they don’t all have the joy of two beautiful, healthy, happy boys, a brother like Sam and Dave and sisters like Hilde and Em. They don’t all have a village to inspire them to find the best in life. They don’t all have the security of a roof over their heads. They don’t all have the peace that their kids will be well loved, and guided through life with their other parent after they die. They don’t all have great friends like Mike. Some people have to work until the very end because they can’t afford not to. How I wish I could turn back time, and insist to the GPs that I saw in the year before my diagnosis that I needed a scan to rule out cancer when I first noticed the lumps. Maybe then my cancer wouldn’t have spread and become fatal. Maybe then I would have been treated for early breast cancer and be back at work now. Maybe then this rant would be about being overworked and underpaid, not being able to find a carpark, or the cost of groceries. Thanks for reading. I’m done now. This rant has cleansed me of my anger and now I can get on with my day. To the families of all the people who have not had the luxury of living this long (even with a life of sickness), I mean no disrespect, and I do acknowledge that I am very lucky to have survived long enough to see my kids get more than half way through primary school. I know that your loved ones would have tolerated all that I am whinging about and more just to have extra time with their families and friends. To all the awesome Love Your Sister Villagers, thank you for your support and love, it really does make a big difference to my quality of life, and please know that I really appreciate you all. And thanks for raising funds to find better cancer treatments and possibly cures so that future generations won’t have to go through all of this stuff.
XXConnie #IHATECancer #FindaCureFundaCure #CancerRant #checkyourboobs #checkyourballs P.S. I’m going back to bed now, and I will try to find the right side of it to get out of after my nap. :)
Let’s start with a statistic about Sydney’s nightlife that matters: alcohol related assaults have decreased by 42.2 per cent in the CBD since we introduced the “lock-out laws”.
And they’re down by over 60 per cent in Kings Cross.
But… didn’t we achieve this by shutting down the whole city and killing its nightlife?
Well, one last statistic: the number of small bars in Sydney has more than doubled in the same time period.
There has been a growing hysteria this week about nightlife in Sydney.
The main complaints seem to be that you can’t drink till dawn any more and you can’t impulse-buy a bottle of white after 10pm.
I understand that this presents an inconvenience. Some say this makes us an international embarrassment.
Except, assaults are down by 42.2 per cent.
And there is nothing embarrassing about that.
From the outset, these laws have been about fixing a serious problem. Violence had spiralled out of control, people were literally being punched to death in the city, and there were city streets too dangerous to stroll down on a Friday night. The community was rightly outraged. I was personally outraged. I met face to face with the families of victims. You don’t need to see that sort of pain too often to realise there is a problem that needs fixing. And the Government was determined to act.
We introduced laws to curb violence and to eliminate drinking ghettos by redistributing the nightlife across the city, making the whole city more vibrant.
Now, some have suggested these laws are really about moralising. They are right. These laws are about the moral obligation we have to protect innocent people from drunken violence.
Doctors right across the city are now telling us that they are seeing far less emergency room presentations on the weekends. Transport workers are telling us that the trains are safer. Small bars and restaurants are opening across Sydney. And residents across the city, particularly women, are telling us they feel safer walking home at night.
At this stage, some of the evidence is anecdotal. But lots of hard data is starting to come in. And it is all telling a similar story.
Over the coming months a detailed review into the effects of the lock-out laws will be undertaken. I await this work with interest. But as I’ve said before, it is going to take a lot for me to change my mind on a policy that is so clearly improving this city.
Now some, who wish to define our city by one street on Kings Cross, make the hysterical claim that Sydney is dead.
They couldn't be more wrong. This is the greatest city in the world and it is now safer and more vibrant than ever.
From 1 December 2016, P2 licence holders (green p plates) will no longer be permitted to use ANY function of a mobile phone while driving or riding. P2 licence holders will have the same restrictions as learner and P1 licence holders. This includes phones in the hands-free mode, with the loudspeaker operating, playing music and using GPS.
Went shopping for a new dress, was happily browsing the racks when the shop assistant says, "Sorry darling those racks are size 6s and 8s only, the other racks will be better for you"
Hiding my offence I replied, "That's cool. I AM a size 6."
And that's when we shared one of those awkward moments, the ones where she knows I'm lying, I know that she knows that I'm lying, she knows that I know that she knows that I'm lying... And I grabbed a size 6 dress to try on..
Feeling under enthused with the unsurprising results I returned from the change room and told her that the colour did nothing for me.
She responded with, "Wow, you are one of those beautiful women that I would think suits every colour"
Hmmmmm. It would appear that she is not the arsehole.... I am.
She wasn't body shaming my delicious #mummob she was being practical, it was ME who body shamed myself by taking offence!!!!!!
Today was a reminder that NO dress sizes are BETTER then any OTHER.