From the cradle to the grave

Last year brought 75th birthday ‘celebrations’ for the NHS, the state of Israel, and for me. The last British troops left Haifa four days after I almost killed my mother, the home-birth of her second child suddenly a medical emergency, our hospital discharge coming a...

A cold coming…

Christmas almost upon us, the cold snap coming to an end, shopping for spices in the fabulous market of this fine city, the friendly stallholder asked me how I was. A dangerous question to a writer partial to telling it like it is. A bit down, I answered… voice...

We are not afraid of death . . .

While football-crazy folks spend large amounts of money flying to Doha to watch super-rich footballers kick a ball about a stadium (built by poor immigrant workers, some dying in the process), I’d like to take you back to the Qatari capital and February 29th 2020....

The Dogs of War

There’s a girl, her curly ginger hair pulled to one side with a turquoise slide, wailing in the cloakroom, tears trailing down her freckled flushed cheeks. Beyond distraught, she’s on the verge of hysteria. A year older, having clocked up my fourteenth year that May,...

Lies, damned lies and…

Lies, damned lies and statistics. For some reason, these words came into my mind, and since, politically-speaking, they summed up January 2022, they are the theme for this blog. The full phrase, There are three kinds of lies – lies, damned lies and statistics, was...