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On a very hot afternoon in August, in an Arabic city, I was walking alone toward my home. I was exhausted, after a very busy day of working in a hospital, as an assistant to an ornery doctor. I was thinking of requesting to work in another department, when a young man and woman hurried beside me. He was hardly breathing, and she was very pale, holding an infant in her arms. They both seemed …

…man, with all his strength, stabbed her with a knife and ran a way. She screamed loudly and so did I. She twitched and fell down. A few people hurried toward us. Her husband came running, but too late! I was terrified and shocked. Everything happened so quickly. I gave the husband the baby and promised myself not to be curious again. This is how the third world people resolve their problem. Isn't that sad?