As fears of renewed conflict hang over Iran, conservationists are shoring up battered historic sites and taking stock of the damage caused by the war with the United States and Israel, though experts warn some repairs could take years. At Golestan Palace, a defining cultural landmark in central Tehran, shattered mirrors, broken doors and debris from ornate ceilings now lie scattered across parts of the site after shockwaves from strikes on the capital following the outbreak of war on February 28. The former royal residence, known for its sprawling gardens, pools and royal halls, has been listed as a Unesco World Heritage site since 2013. The fragile truce in place since April 8 has allowed experts to begin gauging the scale of the damage, though the complex remains closed to the public. Visitors walk through the damaged interiors of the historic Golestan Palace in Tehran on April 4, 2026. — AFP/File “The damage has been assessed at several levels, but a more detailed specialised evaluation is still underway,”...
Sana stood outside the gates of the police station with her young son, clutching her hand as she trembled from fear of what people would say if she went inside. The 26-year-old had been subjected to four years of physical, emotional and financial violence at home, and now her husband was threatening to leak their private videos. What held her back was not fear of her abuser but a sentence she had heard her whole life: Sharif larkiyaan thaney nahi jaati. Good girls don’t go to police stations. At our gate, Sana was not just dealing with her husband’s violence but also battling a deeper, more systemic violence in the shape of a belief system that decided how far she was allowed to seek justice. This story is not an isolated one. I often hear it as a Sub-Divisional Police Officer serving with the Sindh Police. Each complainant who happens to be a woman or her family apologises to me: “We come from a respectable family. We have never stepped inside a police station.” This disclaimer signals that the act of going ...
Kim Su-jin and her husband have set aside their doubts and embraced parenthood, joining a small but notable wave of South Korean couples having children despite the country’s steep demographic decline. South Korea has one of the world’s lowest birth rates, and the government has spent billions of dollars trying to encourage citizens to have more babies and cushion the worst impacts of a shrinking population. The Asian nation is still nowhere near reversing the trend, but a modest baby bump has come after years of consistently low statistics — even as experts disagree on the underlying causes. Kim, 32, a freelance music industry worker, gave birth to her daughter in January last year despite earlier financial concerns during her four-year marriage. She shook off worries over housing, schooling and work “because we believed that having (a baby) would bring us happiness”, she told AFP. This picture taken on April 30, 2026 shows a man pushing a stroller as he visits a baby fair in Seoul. — AFP South Korea’s ferti...