@noba1_noba@JLMelenchon C'est vrai dire des vérités et travailler pour la France c'est plus grave que d'avoir des pédo qui organisent des viols des bébé, des meurtriers, des pro terroriste ou des mecs qui tabasse des femmes. T'as mis ta moral à la poubelle pour rester à genou de devant ta secte.
@sorrow_io@BastionMediaFR T'as strictement rien compris toi. J'espère que tu sort de ta sieste sinon c'est grave.
Il parle pas d'interdire ces fonctionnalité spécifiquement.
@renaudchristi20@AlertesNewsFR24 Même pas, c'est une immigration qualifié qu'il nous faut. Ramener des smicards a qui ont va devoir payer le hlm, les aides et "l'éducation" des 6 gosses contre 0 d'impôt c'est négatif pour le pays, financièrement et culturellement.
@noba1_noba@JLMelenchon lol LFI, le parti le plus condamné pour des trucs de racaille justement. A part léaument la petite fillette je sais qui n'a pas été condamné dans cette secte
@Insoumisdu69@JLMelenchon@insoumis9113 En quoi 1 personne a le droit d'avoir son logement financé 3 autres ? Sans compter que c'est totalement déloyal envers ceux qui n'en profites pas.
Si c'est pas une rente a cause d'un encadrement, personne n'investi et donc y a pas de construction, la logique de base quoi
@Aquesiam0@Liohnowl@AlertesInfos Un mec de droite du 16ieme qui fait des collab avec des associations d'extrême gauche (L214, PETA). 😅😅
Tu m'étonnes que vous prônez le droit à la paresse. Même une recherche sur internet avant de l'ouvrir (et de passer pour ce que vous êtes) c'est trop pour vous.
IRAQ: She was bought and sold seven times in three months. Then, she stood up before the United Nations, forced the world to look her in the eye, and became a Nobel Peace Prize winner.
August 3, 2014. Kocho, Iraq. Nadia Murad was 21 when ISIS surrounded her Yazidi village. What followed was genocide. Men and boys were taken away and executed.
Six of Nadia’s brothers were killed. Her mother was murdered and buried in a mass grave. Nadia was taken. In Mosul, she became property in the eyes of her captors.
Bought. Sold. Traded seven times in ninety days. She was beaten, burned, and repeatedly sexually assaulted.
When Nadia tried to escape, she was caught. The punishment was horrific. Six men gang-raped her until she lost consciousness.
She was beaten until she couldn’t walk. They wanted to destroy her spirit.
They failed. In November 2014, Nadia saw an unlocked door. She ran.
A local Muslim family risked their lives to hide her and help her escape ISIS territory. Eventually, Nadia reached a refugee camp.
Then Germany. She was finally free. She could have disappeared into a quiet life. Instead, she spoke. In December 2015, Nadia stood before the UN Security Council.
She was 22. Her words were fearless. She described girls being sold like cattle. Mothers murdered. A culture being erased. The world listened.
In 2016, the UN recognized the genocide against the Yazidis. But Nadia wasn’t finished. She turned survival into action.
In 2018, she founded Nadia’s Initiative, helping rebuild villages, schools, and clinics while supporting survivors seeking justice.
That same year, at 25, Nadia became the first Iraqi woman to receive the Nobel Peace Prize. The world applauded.
Nadia looked toward those still captive. For her, that was the prize that mattered— their freedom. She continues speaking for the thousands killed and those still missing.
Every telling carries pain. But silence carries a cost too. Nadia transformed suffering into purpose. Trauma into testimony. Survival into a demand for justice.
ISIS tried to reduce her to property. History remembers her by her name. Nadia Murad.
Not because she escaped what happened—but because she survived, stood before the world, and refused to let silence have the final word.
@TheTortueSagace Réveillez vous, des types chiales sur des banalités pareille pendant que notre pays est envahit https://t.co/qUs4y7xWLt https://t.co/gcFrq111xW
IRAQ: She was bought and sold seven times in three months. Then, she stood up before the United Nations, forced the world to look her in the eye, and became a Nobel Peace Prize winner.
August 3, 2014. Kocho, Iraq. Nadia Murad was 21 when ISIS surrounded her Yazidi village. What followed was genocide. Men and boys were taken away and executed.
Six of Nadia’s brothers were killed. Her mother was murdered and buried in a mass grave. Nadia was taken. In Mosul, she became property in the eyes of her captors.
Bought. Sold. Traded seven times in ninety days. She was beaten, burned, and repeatedly sexually assaulted.
When Nadia tried to escape, she was caught. The punishment was horrific. Six men gang-raped her until she lost consciousness.
She was beaten until she couldn’t walk. They wanted to destroy her spirit.
They failed. In November 2014, Nadia saw an unlocked door. She ran.
A local Muslim family risked their lives to hide her and help her escape ISIS territory. Eventually, Nadia reached a refugee camp.
Then Germany. She was finally free. She could have disappeared into a quiet life. Instead, she spoke. In December 2015, Nadia stood before the UN Security Council.
She was 22. Her words were fearless. She described girls being sold like cattle. Mothers murdered. A culture being erased. The world listened.
In 2016, the UN recognized the genocide against the Yazidis. But Nadia wasn’t finished. She turned survival into action.
In 2018, she founded Nadia’s Initiative, helping rebuild villages, schools, and clinics while supporting survivors seeking justice.
That same year, at 25, Nadia became the first Iraqi woman to receive the Nobel Peace Prize. The world applauded.
Nadia looked toward those still captive. For her, that was the prize that mattered— their freedom. She continues speaking for the thousands killed and those still missing.
Every telling carries pain. But silence carries a cost too. Nadia transformed suffering into purpose. Trauma into testimony. Survival into a demand for justice.
ISIS tried to reduce her to property. History remembers her by her name. Nadia Murad.
Not because she escaped what happened—but because she survived, stood before the world, and refused to let silence have the final word.