#chewing khat

[pattern-recognition]

ive somehow tricked the instagram algorithm into showing me almost exclusively content in arabic so now it’s mostly wealthy saudis camping in the desert, dudes growing opium or chewing khat, reckless jordanian drivers, talibanposting, or advertisements for falafel shops 11000km away

[koenji]

A young Yemenite Jewish silversmith sells the handcrafted goods of his family business, including beads, necklaces, earrings, bangles, amulets and a jambiya or men's dagger including an ornate sheath with the accompanying belt. Though the ornamental scabbard sheaths were often crafted by Jewish silversmiths, only Arabs in Yemen were permitted to wear these daggers. In the background Jewish men are seen smoking shisha tobacco and possibly chewing Khat with little girls around. Yemen, 1980s. Only one Jew is known to remain in Yemen today.

[writingescapades]

Livestock

A/N: Cyno my beloved. Should I make a part 2?

How do most fantasy stories start? Once upon a time, Long long ago, In a far off world. You played within such worlds as you endured your daily life. A life full of repetitive boredom. Every morning you gathered the cows and goats and sent them off to graze. You stood there, watching them eat slowly slowly slowly driving you insane. Out of of curiosity, you once reached down and tried a handful of the grass yourself. Bland. You didn’t spit it out, but kept chewing, thinking that maybe some secret ambrosia would seep out. Instead all you discovered was tough grass, incredibly hard to break down and swallow.

Some days, when the drought season was at its worst, you had to drive the herd further out. Under the blaring sun, you monitored the herd, keeping an eye out for opportunist wolves and jackals. When the midday sun rose and the heat became too much for even the herd, they gathered together to doze off. You sat near them and started to slip into your fantasies. Once the sun started to slip, you would bring the herd back and return them to their respective owners. Such was your life. You had a knack for drawing animals near you and making them feel safe. Thus, it was often your responsibility within the village to tend to the herds. Since the entire village was dependent on the herd, you skills naturally brought out the awe and respect of the villagers. But it also brought out their envy, which is why you currently found yourself trapped in a luxurious room.

The chamber was pristine, cool, and lush. The type of room royalty would squander their lives in while their subjects suffered. It was certainly a step up from your bare house with only the single khat bed weaved out of dried stalks. You half expected to see a bulbous royal lounging upon the heavily draped and jewelled bed that rested at a distance from you. Instead, you saw a lithe figure with gleaming red eyes that stared sharply at you. Initially you stared back, waiting for the man to explain why his guards dragged you to this room and why your hands were handcuffed and chained to the wall behind you. But the man continued to watch.

You knew the rumours behind the man. Prince Cyno, adopted son of the king. Royal terror. He was next in line for the throne and he already had a reputation. Every night, the prince would meet one person in his chamber. The following morning, that person was executed. A reason was always provided. One person orchestrated a massive syndicate. Another was an assassin. Another dealt in human trafficking. In each case, a law was broken and Prince Cyno was known to be a stickler for law and duty. But you had never committed such crimes, so you had no reason to be here!

“There are claims that you are involved in illegal witchcraft,” the prince started. “Do you admit to this?”

Witchcraft was not banned in the kingdom, but there were many regulations. Decades of studies combined with continuous testing and reporting. Only the most wealthy and dedicated went into the field to be authorized as legal magicians. Those who could not afford it or could not commit to the hours, were branded as illegal. It caused a mad mass migration of many magicians people out of the kingdom once the law was passed. In the chaos, you lost your parents in the desert and tumbled into the village several years ago. Now you understood why the prince brought you here. Your parents were affluent magicians. They worked for the royal family, but they were not authorized. As their only known surviving child, anything odd about you would be considered as illegal magic.

Fortunately for you, you did not inherit your parents skill in magic. Your magic, if it could called magic, was in your ability to make animals feel safe. You couldn’t manipulate them. You couldn’t hear their thoughts. You were no more skilled than a young child and their attachment to the family pet. Yet the concern was on whether you should tell the prince this. Small magic or not, you were using it, thus you were an illegal practitioner.

“Yes,” you sighed. You might as well tell the truth. You never feared death, just the possibility of pain being associated with it. But if such an ending was your destiny, you might as well face it. Surely it would be better than spending a lifetime following livestock.

The red eyes narrowed.

“For this crime, you will be executed at dawn,” Prince Cyno’s deep voice sliced the air.

“As you wish, my lord,” you quietly replied, looking at the foot of the bed over anything else.

You didn’t notice the confused expression on Prince Cyno’s face as he took in your meek acceptance. He was used to anger, vile language, even tears and bribes. Nothing worked to move his heart. Those people deserved to pay for the crimes they committed. They should have known better before choosing to live in this kingdom. He was surprised by your quiet acceptance. He assumed you were unable to handle the guilt of your crime.

“Explain your magic, how were you able to avoid detection for so many years”.

As he spoke, you could see a sharp object glinting in his hands. You were surprised that the Prince thought threats would work after you had just been condemned. As if reading you mind, the Prince spoke.

“This blade will take out your left eye. The next will take your right. Another two to your cheeks, and so on for as long as your silence continues”.

Ah, so that was the choice then? Torture or no torture?

“I make animals feel safe. I suppose I’ve gone undetected because I was useful, and it’s not like I was doing anything obviously magical”.

Prince Cyno interrogated you. He inquired about all the magic you knew. He asked whether you enchanted the animals or the people. He asked whether you manipulate bodies, minds or emotions. Whether you magically drugged the animals. He wanted to know how much you earned for your services. For each question, you shook your head. As for payment, you lived in the small hut in a village. Your fees allowed for the hut and some food. Nothing else.

The prince became more and more confused with every answer. Your words did corroborate with your status, but nothing indicated crooked intentions. Was it possible for magic users to be so, so weak? Silence fell over the room as Cyno mused over what you told him. It was obvious you had no nefarious intentions, and he could hardly justify your execution to the king and nobles. They would ask what magic you carried and his answer would cement him as an unjust ruler. Riots would break out. People would attempt more and dangerous assassinations upon his life. But a crime was a crime, right?

“Shall I tell you a story,” you interjected.

Stunned at your voice and on what you were asking, Cyno just stared perplexed for a moment. When you repeated your question, he waved his hand, indicating he did not care whatever decision you made. You shrugged and started talking. If you were going to die, you might exact some revenge in telling your dull life story to the prince. You told about your birth and growing up in the palace. You spoke of the mass migration, the fear, losing your parents. You told him how you wandered around the desert for what seemed like days before finally collapsing on the outskirts of some village. It was pure luck a villager happened to pass by and notice a dehydrated child. You told the prince how the kindness of the villagers made you decide to stay and repay them for their kindness with the one skill you had. You then told him how boring it was to watch cattle eat. How many times they grind their food. You even told him the time you attempted to eat the grass yourself.

It was near dawn by the time you finished. Alas, you realized the end of your life was still marked by livestock. You started to feel nervous about your impending doom. You glanced at the prince. During your entire story, Prince Cyno did not utter a single word. Nor did he made any sign for you to stop. He just stared at you.

A knock came from the door and a soldier entered. He bowed and greeted the Prince, paying no attention to you. Cyno nodded and the soldier drew near. The prince whispered something into the soldier’s ear. The soldier nodded and moved towards you.

This was it. You were going to die. Good bye life. Good bye cattle and goats.

The soldier unchained you from the wall, then unfastened your hands. You were confused. Did the prince grant prisoners the dignity to die unshackled?

“You’re free,” the soldier spoke, then left the chamber.

You turned to the prince, face demanding an explanation. Prince Cyno shrugged.

“I was moo’d by your story”.

[brianwambui5]

THE JOURNEY OF A FAMILY MAN

My name is Brian Mburu Wambui. I was born and raised in Kenya, East Africa, by a single mother. I’m now 27 years old, with two wonderful sons who are 5 and 3. Growing up in a single-parent household wasn’t easy. From a young age, I had to understand what it meant to struggle, and I was forced to mature quickly to help my mother and contribute to our survival. Life has never been kind, and that has shaped me in ways I’m still trying to understand.

My early years were a mix of hope and hardship. I went through kindergarten and primary school like any other child, holding on to dreams of a better future. But when I reached secondary school, everything changed. During my third year, we simply couldn’t afford the fees anymore. I was around 16 or 17 when I had to drop out. It was a tough blow because education had been my hope for a different kind of life, a chance to break free from the cycle of poverty.

After dropping out, reality hit hard. With no formal qualifications, I took up the first job I could find: car washing. I worked long hours, from morning until late at night, scrubbing cars for little pay. If I made any mistakes, the employers would deduct from my already meager salary. It wasn’t just the physical labor that was tough; it was the constant reminder that some people don’t see others as human beings deserving of dignity. It was just about making a profit, even if it meant exploiting those who had nothing else. I tried to keep going, but the job felt more like slavery, and eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to walk away.

Since then, I've done a variety of hustles, each one more challenging than the last. Whether it was odd jobs, manual labor, or selling small items, I did whatever I could to make a living. But no matter how hard I worked, it felt like I was always just barely getting by. Life was about surviving from one day to the next, and I could never seem to catch a break.

The constant struggle took a heavy toll on my personal life. The mother of my children—my partner, the woman I thought I would share my life with—grew tired of our circumstances. She couldn’t handle the daily grind, the poverty, the lack of basic comforts, and eventually, she left. That broke me in a way that’s hard to put into words. I was left to raise my sons alone, haunted by thoughts of whether I had failed them. The thought of my children growing up to see me as a man who couldn’t make a better life for them weighs heavily on my mind every day.

Poverty has been my constant companion, from the day I was born until now. To this day, I’ve never known the simple privacy of having my own toilet. I've always had to pay for basic needs like water, showers, and even using the bathroom. It’s a kind of existence that chips away at your dignity. This is not a life I would wish on anyone, not even my worst enemy.

There are times when I wake up and question why I’m still here. It feels like life is just a series of endless suffering, and each day is another step deeper into despair. I’ve often wondered if I’m cursed—if my life was always meant to be this way, filled with one hardship after another. I long for a life where I can rest and be happy, where I can enjoy the simple pleasures that so many people take for granted: a home where I can feel safe, a steady income, and the ability to watch my children grow up without the constant fear of not having enough.

To cope with the stress and overwhelming sense of hopelessness, I turned to chewing khat. It’s not a solution, but it helps me escape, even if just for a while. When I’m sober, the reality hits harder: a life that feels like it’s going nowhere, where every effort seems to end in failure. I chew khat to dull the pain, to avoid thinking too much about all the things I’ve lost and the dreams I’ve had to let go. It’s not something I’m proud of, but at times, it feels like the only thing that helps me get through the day.

Despite everything, there is still a part of me that hopes for a better future. It may be a faint hope, but it’s there. I look at my children, and I want more for them. I want them to grow up in a world where they don’t have to struggle like I did, where they have the opportunities that I never had. I hope they grow up to be strong and find success in ways that I couldn’t. If there’s one thing I can do, it’s to teach them the value of resilience and kindness.

If you feel moved by my story and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee. Any small gesture of kindness is deeply appreciated and helps me keep going. Here’s the link:

If you’re reading this, I hope you take a moment to be grateful for the things you have. Don’t take anything for granted. If you have a stable life, a roof over your head, and the ability to meet your needs without worry, cherish it. Not everyone is that fortunate. And if you’re someone who has never known hardship, remember that life isn’t fair for everyone. Show compassion where you can, because sometimes a little kindness can go a long way.

buymeacoffee.com/Brianwambui

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Elendil sleeping headcanons

This is partially a re-writing of an ask I sent starlady66, after she asked for some headcanons of mine in return. I made my best not to copy hers, any similarity is absolutely coincidental! Sorry if this is weird, I don’t know why I had this idea...

*****

🛌 He mainly sleeps in a fetal position, usually on his righ side, because on his left he carries an old battle wound that occasionally still hurts.

🛌 Like most Numenoreans, Elendil rarely prays before sleeping, but often, as he lies on his bed, waiting for sleep to come, he reflects on the day's events and thanks the Valar for their protection. 

🛌 He always, always brushes his teeth before bed; if he is particularly tired, he leaves his clothes on the floor, to pick up the next morning. 

🛌 He moved around on the bed as a child, but he learned to stay still during his first mission with the Sea Guard, so as not to disturb the others seamen.

🛌 He has never, ever fallen asleep while on guard duty, but he always takes stimulants (a coffee-like beverage or leaves to chew like khat) to be safe.

🛌 He has two distinct sleeping modes, and he is able to switch between them effortlessly. At home, he is a very deep sleeper, so much that an entire orchestra could play in his bedroom and he wouldn’t even stir; he feels safe, so he allows himself to lower his guard. At Sea (or when his children were newborns and could need to be cared for at any moment) he sleeps so light a deep breath in the next room could wake him up; he is ready to sense danger at any moment and spring into action.

🛌 He always remembers that he dreams, but never what; nightmares leave him with an unpleasant sensation that can last until mid-day.

🛌 The first nights after a long trip by Sea, he finds it hard to fall asleep without the rolling of the ship around him. 

🛌 As far as he knows, he has spoken in his sleep exactly once in his life; his wife never told him what he had said, but it was something she had found funny.

🛌 He doesn’t drool. (Isildur does)

🛌 He only suffers from insomnia if he has something on his mind. He has tried drinking chamomile, or even a concoction the healer prepared for him; nothin works, but thankfully, the list of the things that keep him awake has grown shorter year after year. 

🛌 It doesn’t matter how well or abundantly he eats during the day, he regularly wakes up in the middle of the night feeling hungry, or craving something good to eat. Because of this, he always keeps something -fruit, bread, sweets- in his room, and in his satchel while he is away at Sea.

🛌 He cannot go to sleep if he feels dirty; at home and at Sea, he does his best to clean himself, with a hot bath or a water-basin. He likes wearing clean clothes and loves the sensation of clean sheets against his skin. 

🛌 He is one of those men who can sleep with his own pillow, and his own pillow only. He sleeps naked in summer and wearing light pants when it is colder.

🛌 He kept his marriage bed after his wife died. He still sleeps rigidly on his side without crossing over. Sometimes that bed, the same where his children had been born, feels too big for a single person... which is why he is so happy when he finds the right person to sleep next to. 

🛌 He doesn’t sleepwalk, but disconcertingly, all his children do. Anarion did it once when he was very young, Isildur had three separate incidents while growing up, Eärien leaves home a couple times per year, and always goes back before dawn.

🛌 He doesn’t need to sleep with his back against the wall like many soldiers do, but the door must be closed, as well the windows, and the house door bolted. When he was ten, a thief sneaked into his parents' house looking for money and jewels to steal, and Amandil was hurt when confronting the thief. Since then, Elendil has been obsessed with protecting his home, especially by night. It doesn’t matter how hot it is, and how pleasant it would be to let the air come in, all possible entrances must be closed. 

🛌 He likes to sleep holding his lover in his arms, murmuring sweet nothings in their ear or waking up to find them caressing his hair and chest. 

🛌 He occasionally wakes up with morning wood, more often when he is in a relationship. He prefers not to take the matter in his own hands (pun intended) but have his lover do it; that's the best way to wake up.

Tagging @starlady66 and @grinkitty.

[error404vnotfound]

Girlie, I am here to ramble about drugs to you (is that okay I wanted to ramble about studies too but I’m a social science major and—)

Okay so I had to watch this documentary about Khat, which is a drug in Africa you can chew for mild euphoric effects.

And the video was like hmmm?? Maybe they should make it illegal.

But it was really interesting, because the problems didn’t lie in the legality of Khat (from my limited limited limited knowledge, I am not from Africa)

Because if you look at other countries with illegal drugs, then the drugs get dirtier and more dangerous. The gangs get more violent to protect their profit. And yah less people are on drugs (supposedly idk) but the people that are?? They make Min’s world look like a dream come true (which is really sad for them)

So then they were talking about the WHY behind khat, and that a ton of the economic profit was based off of it. There were khat users in the video that were like ‘yah I take it cuz mental illness, bad working conditions, trauma, etc)

We have people sitting around wondering which drugs should and should not be illegal, but we’re not asking questions like why people take drugs? Or better yet why are they sold at such high rates? Or what resources are there for people to get off drugs? Or are adolescents and the general public informed about the effects of drugs? Or are families receiving support when they have a member that is into drugs?

Instead, we ask: should it be legal? Without even addressing what happens when people get on those drugs, regardless of those laws, and how to help them when they do.

It’s my student opinion that these countries (really all countries tbh) that keep on questioning legality are wasting their time (unless it’s to make it legal) because there are more important things like resources and a lot of our problems would be fixed if we had resources

And I thought the video was really interesting because it showed the different areas were lacking in certain resources, and it was pretty obvious (to me) that the question was never about legality, but about what resources are we putting into our communities?

And now I want to write Poisonous Medicine—brb (jk I have more studying)

oh look an assignment of yours that doesn't suck!

I mean, yeah, I totally agree. they are trying to treat the symptom not the cause

also I'm not saying this if anyone asks but you should totally go and write poisonous medicine. it's time to kick the baby down the stairs

also good luck with your studying!!!!

[addiction-recovery-support]

Are Weird Drugs Commonly Used for Getting High in Delaware? Learn about Their Effects and Risks.

.

In the US, many people experiment with drugs to get high, often hoping to find a more intense experience. But as is often the case with many illicit substances, there is no way to verify their safety or understand what effects they will have. To give insight and awareness into some of the stranger drugs people attempt to use to get high, Banyan Treatment Center has released an article about Weird Drugs People Use To Get High. Here's a summary of what it covers:

Drugs from Across the Globe: From the Middle East comes Khat, a plant whose leaves are chewed for an amphetamine-like effect. Meanwhile, from South America comes Scopolamine, a chemical found in some plants that has been used as a date rape drug.

Wild and Unconventional Drug Combinations: Some people will mix prescription drugs, such as Xanax and Codeine, for an intense and unpredictable experience. There have even been reports of individuals combining cocaine and air fresheners (which contain a form of nitrous oxide).

Drugs of the “Natural” Variety: Psychedelic mushrooms and marijuana come from natural sources, but consuming either of these is still illegal. Attempting to use these as recreational drugs can have dangerous consequences, and is even more likely to come with unforeseen results.

The article answers these questions and more, making it an essential read for those looking to have a better understanding of some of the drugs people seek out in an effort to escape reality. Visit the Banyan Treatment Center website for more information on their services and how to get help.

[nelson12oyengo]

CERTIFIED RUMOUR MONGERS

Khat is a drug thats chewed raw as it is and it makes you say just about anything. Rumour has it that Africa is one big Nation.Its capital is a country called kenya,Rumour also states that the capital kenya has lots of animals,It maybe as well the world wild capital,Kenyans grow a crop known as “jaba” otherwise khat,An edible crop that once tasted and ingested,Makes one tell stories such as…

[saxafimedianetwork]

Governing Khat: Drugs And Democracy In Somaliland

Rather than seeing #khat as a #hindrance for #NationState #formation & as a #developmental #problem, the #paper argues that khat has been important to the #economic viability of #Somaliland & to the formation of #political #practices & #identities.

(more…)

[gatheringbones]

[“One of the more surprising twists in the story of zombie fungi came from research carried out by Matt Kasson and his team at West Virginia University. Kasson studies the fungus Massospora, which infects cicadas and causes the rear third of their bodies to disintegrate, allowing it to discharge its spores out of their ruptured back ends. Infected male cicadas—“flying saltshakers of death,” in Kasson’s words—become hyperactive and hypersexual despite the fact that their genitals have long since crumbled away, a testament to how expertly the fungus is able to arrange their deterioration. Within their decaying bodies, their central nervous systems remain intact.

In 2018, Kasson and his team analyzed the chemical profile of the “plugs” of fungus that sprout from the cicadas’ broken bodies. They were amazed to find that the fungus produced cathinone, an amphetamine in the same class as the recreational drug mephedrone. Cathinone naturally occurs in the leaves of khat (Catha edulis), a plant cultivated in the Horn of Africa and the Middle East, which has been chewed for centuries by humans for its stimulant effects. Cathinone had never before been found outside of plants. More astonishing was the presence of psilocybin, which was one of the most abundant chemicals in the fungal plugs—although one would have to eat several hundred infected cicadas to notice any effect. It’s surprising because Massospora sits in an entirely different division of the fungal kingdom from the species known to produce psilocybin, separated by a gulf of hundreds of millions of years. Few suspected that psilocybin would show up in such a distant part of the fungal evolutionary tree, playing a behavior-modifying role in a very different story.

What exactly is Massospora able to accomplish by drugging its hosts with a psychedelic and an amphetamine? The researchers presume that these drugs play a part in the fungal manipulation of the insect. But how, exactly, isn’t known.”]

Merlin Sheldrake, Entangled Life

[dustedandsocial]

DUSTED+SOCIAL March Rundown

Pictured: Guro Skumsnes Moe / MoE

01. RXKNephew - Pocket Knife Nephew 02. Coins Parallèles - Coins parallèles 03. Officine - Thriller 04. Sam Media - Simple As Fuck 05. Société Étrange - La rue principale de Grandrif 06. Paperniks - Segment F 07. Mikhail Mineral - Infa 08. El Khat - La Sama 09. Lucrecia Dalt - No One Around 10. Loris S. Sarid & Innis Chonnel - Sanity Beach 11. Heavy Petting - bier 12. Elektronik Body Girl - Jiburi 13. Veeze - Let It Fly 14. Savage Grounds - Sex Is Violence 15. Isotope Soap - Shattered Delusions 16. Nick Klein - PFEFFERSPRAY 17. Shit And Shine - Socktagon 18. Unsanitary Napkin - TERF War 19. PYLAR - Fervor Espiral 20. Gustafsson & Lugo - Chewed Twice or Less 21. Junk Drawer - Middle Places 22. Toe Ring - Staring At The Sunn 23. Anadol - Ablamın Gözleri 24. 10KDunkin - DJ Don't Play No Love Song 25. Bergsonist - FASTING 26. JCow - Groove Ryder 27. MIDDEX - Basement 28. Ninetees - On the knees 29. MoE - The Crone 30. Treasury of Puppies - Rotten Apples Of Love 31. Macchiatto - Minstrel 32. ONYON - shining river utah 33. Amir Bresler - House of Arches 34. IceBirds & Dylvinci feat. Tony Shhnow - No Handouts 35. Olivia - Protesters 36. White Suns - night pours in 37. Ecko Bazz - Twala 38. ASSID - Accès aux Plans Subtils de L' Etre 39. Mars89 - Aeropolis 40. Fly Anakin - Sean Price 41. MEOWHAT - First 42. Inre Kretsen Grupp - Buffo 43. S for Swallow - TT33 44. Black Tempel Pyrämid - Dark Strobes 45. Bogdan Raczynski - DLEDA 45. Pink Siifu feat. Valee - Griptape'!! 47. Lawrence Le Doux - Pico 48. Sote - I'm trying but I can't reach you father 49. Romain Baudoin - Rondèu de Carrère 50. Fievel Is Glauque - the River

Download: https://mega.nz/file/jVMWASoJ#jJQtII-pJjapYF-n8nPBrddyUmow8s3Rz5lI1gDf_dY (copy and paste direct link if for some reason the redirect asks you for an encryption code. Tumblr’s redirect service is a little janky.)

Stream on Mixcloud

[max1461]

List of drugs I lowkey want to try:

weed (very tentative) out of a bong

big ass cigar

hookah pipe

khat (tentative) (I want to chew that east african leaf)

Ephedra distachya, possible candidate for soma-haoma

Are there any other drugs I should try? NOT too powerful. Is kola nut psychoactive is it addictive? In things fall apart they were always chewing kola nut or whatever. I could chew that shit like okonkwo...

Honestly, just like how the only alcohol I ever drink is beer (because I like the taste), I have sometimes felt the urge to try weed or tobacco purely on the grounds that I like the concept of a pipe. Like I just enjoy the idea of this little device you suck smoke through. I think if I ever do try weed it will be because I saw a bong and was hit with this sense of "fuck. I would love to utilize that device."

If I ever try tobacco it will probably be in the form of a big ass cigar and tbh I kind of actually want to do this. I've said this already.

[coochiequeens]

Rima* was married the year civil war erupted in Yemen. She was 15 and for much of the time over the next five years, her husband kept her chained to a wall in their home in central Yemen. “He didn’t treat me as a wife, he treated me as a slave,” says the 21-year-old.

An aunt eventually took pity on Rima, taking her to a psychosocial support centre in the town of Turba, 90 miles (145km) north-west of Aden. According to a doctor there, Rima now suffers from a neurological disorder brought on by the constant beatings.

Like far too many Yemeni women, often married before the age of 18, Rima has never known safety in her own home. The six-year civil war has exacerbated already high levels of violence against women, and led to drastic cuts in funding for safe spaces such as the one in Turba, because of competing urgent needs. Some 80% of the population of Yemen requires some form of humanitarian assistance, and food insecurity is rising. At the same time, according to the UN, demand for services for women who were victims of violence rose by 36% in 2017.

“It’s a big problem. It has always existed, even before the war, so it is not something new,” says Nestor Owomuhangi, Yemen’s UN Population Fund representative. Part of the increase, he says, is probably down to better awareness of the problem, as programmes were established in areas where there had been little acknowledgment of domestic violence. Now, he says, “the crisis exacerbates the risk”.

In the conflict, armed men have taken advantage of the insecurity of those displaced by the violence; 83% of displaced people in Yemen are women and children.

Also in the clinic is 14-year-old Salwa*, who left the city of Taiz, north of Turba, with her family in 2015. One afternoon last year, a militia fighter high on drugs burst into the flat her family had rented. He tore her hair from her scalp and tried to rape her, but her screams brought neighbours running. The man was sentenced to six weeks in jail. “I want to be a lawyer when I grow up,” she says, “because I feel I didn’t have any rights, because I didn’t get justice.”

Rima also blames drugs in part for her husband’s irrational and brutal fits of rage. He was a dealer in khat, the narcotic leaf that many Yemenis chew.

As a child bride she was statistically more likely to undergo abuse. In Yemen there is no statute limiting the age of marriage and in 2017, the UN reported that 52% of Yemeni women had been married before the age of 18. Anecdotal accounts suggest those rates have soared upwards as the war has continued and families slide further into poverty, leaving children hungry.

Rima had to abandon school. “My husband didn’t want me to continue my studies,” she says. “I was a school leaver, grade 12, about to finish. He didn’t allow me to finish.”

“He told me, ‘You’re dumb and you’re not able to talk’,” she says. He disparaged the poetry she loved to write....click on link for rest of article.

What these women and girls are experiencing is real sex based violence.

[kenyatta]

Whether​ or not mycelium in fact behaves like a neural network, fungi certainly seem to have a highly evolved interest in the brains and nervous systems of others. The psychoactive effects that psilocybin-producing mushrooms have on humans are well known (though seriously under-researched), but the most virtuosic feats of mind alteration – if that is the right way to describe it – are performed by the numerous species of fungus that can control the minds and bodies of insects. These are sometimes called ‘zombie fungi’, and they act with what Sheldrake describes as ‘exquisite precision’. The fungus Ophiocordyceps infects carpenter ants. Inside the body of an infected ant, it begins to develop a mycelial network. Hyphae travel through the ant’s body cavities, into its limbs and organs: an infected insect becomes about 40 per cent fungus. Once this fungal growth is complete, the normally ground-dwelling ant leaves its nest and climbs the nearest plant. At a height of around 25 centimetres – ‘a zone with just the right temperature and humidity to allow the fungus to fruit’ – it orients itself towards the sun; at high noon, it clamps its jaws round a leaf vein, in a ‘death grip’. Mycelium grows out of the ant’s feet, plastering it to the leaf. Sutured into place, jaws rigid, the ant’s body is then digested by the fungus: a small mushroom grows out of the ant’s head, releasing spores which drift down onto the ants passing below, beginning the cycle again.

Massospora, a species completely unrelated to Ophiocordyceps, infects cicadas: it rots away the abdomen of an infected insect, leaving it tipped with a yellowish plug of spores that looks like a mass of pollen. Infected cicadas are not incapacitated or ill: in fact they become ‘hyperactive and hypersexual despite the fact that their genitals have long since crumbled away’. Rushing between mates, they become ‘flying salt-shakers of death’, dusting other cicadas with Massospora’s spores.

It’s unclear how such exact behavioural changes are effected. Ophiocordyceps fills an ant’s body with hyphae and takes control of its actions, but it doesn’t invade the ant’s brain, which is left intact; Massospora confines itself pretty much to the cicada’s abdomen, leaving the rest of the body alone, in order that the insect can continue to move around and attempt to mate while the fungus completes its life-cycle. It is possible that the control is achieved by means of minutely precise pharmacological interventions in the brains of the hosts: Massospora manufactures both psilocybin and cathinone, a stimulant related to the recreational drug mephedrone, which is otherwise found only in plants such as khat (Catha edulis, whose leaves are chewed widely in East Africa and beyond). So the fungus is perhaps administering both amphetamines and psychedelics to its cicada. But nobody really understands quite how this would work. The mechanism by which Ophiocordyceps produces exact and perfectly timed bodily actions in an infected ant is also a profound mystery, except that it most probably involves ‘fine-tuning’ the ant’s ‘chemical secretions in real time’.

Precise and complex effects of this sort are far beyond the reach of human medical pharmacology; Sheldrake compares the way these fungi command their hosts to phenomena such as spirit possession or the speech of mediums. Like an incorporeal spirit, the fungus does not have a body, instead entering and possessing something else’s. The ascent up the plant and the death grip are not the behaviour of the carpenter ant but of the fungus, which is using the insect as a kind of exo-suit: ‘For part of its life, Ophiocordyceps must wear an ant’s body.’ How rapidly, how finely must the network be communicating and acting to puppeteer the central nervous system of a living creature, to measure distance and conditions, to determine direction and time of day? The question of fungal sentience hovers in the background, like the ambiguous ghosts of spirit photography.

[l-egypte]

September 27, 2020 | Substance Use and Abuse, 2e (2016)

I was skimming through the textbook Substance Use and Abuse, Second Edition (2016), by Rick Csiernik, and I found some mentions of (ancient) Egypt.

In the first chapter, a paragraph begins with “Herein lies the core problem. As a species, humans have a fascination with any psychoactive agent that alters our basic perception of our environment” (p. 14). It later goes on to read:

Archaeological evidence in multiple sites indicates that the regular use of psychoactive substances dates back 10,000 years (Hayen, Canuel, & Shanse, 2013; Merlin, 2003). In ancient Egypt, hieroglyphics illustrate gods holding and using different hallucinogenic drugs (Bertol, Fineschi, Karch, Mari, & Riezzo, 2004). (p. 14)

I’m not curious to know which hallucinogenic drugs those were. The text later reads: 

Cannabis is being cultivated and seized in almost all countries in Africa. Nigeria remains the country with the largest seizures of cannabis, followed by Egypt. (p. 36)

Egyptian authorities seized 3 tons of such cannabis on the shores of the Red Sea in a single operation in 2012. (p. 37)

And

China, Egypt, Gambia, Indonesia, Iran, Kuwait, Lao People’s Democratic Republic, Malaysia, Saudi Arabia, Singapore, Sudan, Thailand, and Viet- nam regularly execute individuals convicted of drug offences, with several prescribing the death penalty as a mandatory sentence for certain drug offences. […] Egypt, Jordan, Oman, and Syria impose a mandatory death sentence if the offender of a major drug-related crime is a public official or government employee, while both Egypt and Iran call for a mandatory death sentence for anyone who, by whatever means, induces any other person to take any narcotic substance (Lines, 2007). (pp. 56–57)

In the third chapter, there is a description of khat:

Khat/qat leaves were chewed by warriors in Western Africa and the Arabian Peninsula to fight fatigue, and even Alexander the Great instructed his soldiers to use khat prior to engaging in battle. While a relatively new drug of misuse and abuse in North America, its use dates back to ancient Egypt where it was used alongside alcohol. (p. 149)

Finally, in one the appendices (see screenshot), which features a timeline of the global history of psychoactive drugs, Egypt makes a few appearances:

“6000 BCE: There is evidence of breweries in Egypt.”

“3000 BCE: The Egyptian Book of the Dead mentions the manufacturing of Hek, a beer-like beverage made from barley, bread, and water.”

“2000 BCE: Egyptian soldiers are banned from drinking, followed by prohibition of drinking on the job for other workers.”

“1500 BCE: Egyptian engravings depict images of drunken members of the ruling class in the arms of their slaves.”

“1300 CE: Hashish is introduced to Egypt.”

[Screenshot from Substance Use and Abuse, 2e (2016)]

[sushigal007covet]

Super fun fact! According to the NHS website, “Meow meow is a common name for 4‐Methylmethcathinone, a synthetic substance based on the cathinone compounds found in the khat plant of eastern Africa, which locals chew for an amphetamine-like high. Meow meow can come in the form of capsules, tablets or white powder that users may swallow, snort or even inject. It acts as a stimulant and a "psychedelic", with reportedly similar properties to the drug ecstasy (MDMA).”

I’m guessing this was unintentional on Covet’s part.