Walking back from town yesterday, I found our village square to be abuzz with activity. There were no less than eight police officers consulting in front of our church. The only other time I’d seen that kind of police presence was when the President dropped by for a visit.
As I turned into our little lane, I noticed a blood trail. It must have been 100 meters in length–happily it veered right where our alley forks, and not down to where we live. You could see where the victim staggered at one point and leaned against the wall for a bit. I took a photo:
Julie got the gossip from the local shop, and I confirmed today in the paper that there’d been a shooting in Gharb. Apparently there a woman got pushed, and an argument ensued. Somebody went to get a gun, and kerblammo. Nobody died.
Inner city violence in a village of 900. Cool!