3With Ibrahim’s help I found a flat that suited me on the third floor of an old building in Jabriya, an area I hated, about a ten-minute walk from where Ibrahim lived. The building had no families at all because the usual practice in Kuwait is that families live in special buildings where unmarried young men are not allowed to live. Where I lived there were no women or children at all. It was like a prison or a military camp. Migrants of various nationalities lived in the flats and some of them housed more than ten people. Most of the flats in the buildings were empty during the week but were noticeably full of young men on Thursday and Friday nights and on religious and official holidays. Only then would I hear women’s voices in the building. On the third floor, where my flat was, there w
