Life is not worth living

 

for some it is, for others it isn’t

 

 

UPDATE: 23. June 2020

I struggle with suicidal thoughts and have been for a while since my brother died and the bullying I went through at Pret A Manger.

I have good days, and I have written a lot about my trauma and loss. Depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts is like a mental cancer that I will fight.

If you are based in London and struggle with life or know someone who does, please reach out.

3 places I’d like to mention here:

Ambulant help by appointment only which I experienced from them, The Listening Place in Pimlico, London:

 

 

2. Maytree, a house in North London for people who are suicidal: Part of BBC documentary from 57:22 on.

 

3. And an actor, Joe Tranici, who recently was pointed out to me which is very helpful to know I’m not the only “crazy” person:

https://twitter.com/joetracini/status/1273649508052860928

 

 

.

A Sack of Potatoes in a Cotton Field

 

It weighs heavy on the rich

because poverty is a burden

while white cotton is more precious

than dirty green, yellow, brown-ish things

that is peeled before trying

hailing bullets

in the sun

©2020 poetrasblok.com

 

 


 

 

Questions to Lila Tighilt Warren #PretAManger

Dear Lila,

I hope you are well during this pandemic.

I am still alive and physically well, although mentally ruined and broken after what I went through with my brother’s death and what Pret put me through, including you gaslighting me.

As you may know, I wrote several articles about what you have done. But in case you missed it, here are two of several posts:

Counsellor Lila Warren — and  — Counselling with Lila Warren.

There is a reason why I gave both posts similar titles.

Both more or less saying the same thing about your “brother Zain”, and what you have done and allowed Pret to do via you.

For 2 years now I’ve been writing, blogging, tweeting about my trauma. For 2 years, on and off, I’ve searched if there is a “brother” named “Zain”.

And then, I came across Kader a few months ago.

He passed away.

Who was he? Your brother? A cousin? Or was he the uncle you mentioned? As you seem to have a large family, it’s all a little bit confusing.

A LaProvence.com Newspaper article about Kader Tighilt’s memorial.

I can’t speak French and did a Google translate, maybe you could correct any wrong translation:


»He left with praise, with thunderous applause, with looks bathed in tears too. The tears of all those who had gathered in town hall from the 15th-16th, yesterday, to say goodbye to Kader Tighilt, chief of the sports department, who died, at 53, of a terrible disease. The elected officials were there, from left and right, Samia Ghali, Patrick Mennucci, Daniel Sperling, Nora Préziosi, Jean-Marc Coppola, Henri Jibrayel, Clément Yana, Jean-Marc Corteggiani, the representative of the prefect also, of the Algerian consul . Kader belonged to the 15th-16th family but he was not from any chapel, subservient to any party, except that of the Republic.

His open, tolerant and always humorous speech had allowed him to gather. Among elected officials and at the bistro. Kader was an all-terrain personality. That is why there were 300 of them crowding in the garden of Villa Laplane where the elected officials rubbed shoulders with athletes, everyday friends and family, of course. A minute of silence launched the tribute ceremony, which was followed by the hymn, symbol of this Republic which he defended as a treasure.

His young son Faris recalled him in a speech full of courage, dignity and emotion: “He was a great man who was going to leave an immense void. We can be proud of the fight he fought. ” Samia Ghali, with whom Kader Tighilt worked, portrayed a man who, beyond ideas, will have marked the town hall with his personality:

“Your voice which surprised us at the Bar des Bons Vivants or at the Régali will be greatly missed.” Nearly an hour of sincere tribute to a man who has spent a too short life cultivating friendship. And to make the young disadvantaged in the northern districts smile. Kader Tighilt was buried in the Vaudrans cemetery, abandoning loved ones torn apart by grief, who nevertheless know that his image and his spirit will remain present in Saint-Louis, La Viste, at the Bar des Bons Vivants and in the town hall of the sector.

Where, without Kader, life will not be quite as before.«


End of translation.

Kader was a prominent figure in Marseille where you’re from.

And an English article about Kader Tighilt: https://www.smithsonianmag.com/travel/marseilles-ethnic-bouillabaisse-180191988

And a Tweet about a tribute after his death:

2015 Twitter Kader Tighilt

Link

Lila, remember the picture you had on your Pret work-phone? You had NO picture whatsoever on your private phone number, which is now your counselling number, the painted picture of which you said is a self-portrait by your brother Zain, whom you said died in his apartment and wasn’t found for days, just like my brother. I found the painted picture on Facebook profile of Samir Tighilt, who has this black and white photo of Kader Tighilt on it. Is Samir another brother? I can’t find Zain, though!

2020-03-13 Samir Tighilt zain

Facebook profile

And not to be mistaken for another Tighilt family, you, your brother Morad and your Husband/family Warren show up on Samir Tighilt’s friend-list. There is no “Zain” to be found, though!

2020 Lila Samir Tighilt

I searched for Zain Tighilt and after many Facebook profiles and articles found Kader Tighilt.

You had a painted self-portrait of your “brother Zain” on your work phone, but no picture whatsoever on your private phone. I think it’s clear now, why. I believed you that you had a brother who died similarly to how my brother died, you were very convincing! As I wrote already in the other posts that you are either a very good liar because of the way you described everything regarding death and your “brother’s” body, which I know from my brother’s death. If you lied, that makes you a bad person. But if this is true that you indeed had a brother named Zain who died alone in his apartment and wasn’t found for days, like my brother, then this makes you even worse than a bad person.

Maybe Kader’s middle name is Zain? But also looking at the date when Kader died and the date you gave me about “Zain’s” death, the dates don’t match. It’s all very confusing isn’t it? But it all makes sense in hindsight with your education, and being a Hypnotherapist, NLP practitioner and now Psychotherapist. You apply psychology the wrong way. You used psychology to manipulate, gaslight and plainly abuse because you couldn’t stand up to Pret.

Lila Warren BACP

Link

I mean, it is quiet something that Pret had to go through such length, and you to such abyss to get me out of the company. But you know, I keep raising awareness on Pret’s systemic bullying culture. But now from the outside. Did you read those reviews on Head Office? Have you left a review on Pret yet? I remember some of your words about top leadership …

Lila, do you know that I have a hard time now trusting people who are friendly and nice? Every-time someone is kind and interested in my story or life, I get paranoid thinking that Pret sent a “spy” to gaslight me again. You should not be a counsellor of any type! You are not fit to call yourself any type of counsellor. And sooner or later your abusive way will come to light with others as well.

You might be protected and shielded by family, Pret A Manger and the counselling bodies you’re under. But no amount of money or “education” will shield you from exposure. My blog will always be a thorn in your and Pret’s side.

With all respect and condolences, but it doesn’t matter to me anymore if you had a brother named Zain. But I care that the public knows how toxic, abusive, corrupt, exploitative and plain cowardly Pret A Manger is. And I will keep cracking Pret’s shiny and smiley facade. Pret can paint over the cracks like colouring a rotten egg with all the charity and freebie marketing. I will keep cracking it with a pen and paper, and a computer keyboard to expose the foul stench from its core!

I care that the public and staff, many of whom are brainwashed and desperate for a job like I was, know how Pret under Clive Schlee, Pano Christou and HR David Carter etc. victimize hardworking employees who call out wrong-doing. And how you, with your privilege and education have neither backbone nor values to do the right thing. You need to live with decisions of disgrace and horrific disrespect. You allowed Pret to step, and decided yourself to step on dignity. That’s on you Lila.

Right Thing Naturally

2019-06-30 44 staff 50 Clive

Glassdoor.com

2020-06-09 Pano 40 39

.

.

(Above header picture by: https://x-diotima-x.skyrock.com/3246454324-Kader-Tighilt-un-Homme-bien.html)


I worked at Pret A Manger and survived systemic workplace bullying during bereavement that involved HR, the top leadership, HQ and even the now “retired” former CEO Clive Schlee. I declined 4 settlement offers if I am silent about my ordeal. But I rather speak out to help others. For an overview of important blog entries of my experience with Pret, please visit “My Ordeal with Pret A Manger”. The little arrow to the right next to each heading will lead directly to the post.
An incomplete list on what other Pret staff say about Pret’s bullying environment:
Caught in the Act Bullying at Pret.
I tell my story for the first time verbally in below audio player interview on a podcast by
The Adam Paradox, and wrote two articles in the Scottish Left Review.
Thank you for reading/listening.


Interview:

©2020 expret.org


Unless otherwise stated or linked to, this website and all writings within this site are the property of expret.org, poetrasblok.com, LateNightGirl.org and are protected by copyright and other intellectual property laws. Reproduction and distribution of my writings without written permission is prohibited.
©2017 – Present: expret.org, poetrasblok.com, LateNightGirl.org unless otherwise stated. All Rights reserved. Disclaimer.

Love people

 

white lala land

 

 

 

There’s a god

just for the whites

he’s got blue eyes

and blond hands

to heal

those who are too dark to recover

 

He’s a carpenter

with splinters in his fingers

long gone

and than there is

a voice

 

 

 

 

 

#Colorblind – “Let’s change the world”

 

Al Sharpton’s eulogy has so many amazing metaphors that will have you discover things in time to come.

Let’s hope Lady Justice is colorblind!

“He died because there has not been the corrective behavior that has taught this country that if you commit a crime, it does not matter if you wear blue jeans or a blue uniform you must pay for the crime you commit.”

– Al Sharpton for George Floyd memorial.

 

“Let’s change the world”

– Gianna Floyd

 

 

Sir, I Was Born here

 

I don’t like the hashtag #BlackLivesMatter

It’s like reminding us what comes naturally:

Water matters, Air matters, Love matters, Food matters, the Moon matters … it’s like saying a no-brainer is thawing out.

 

 

What makes people stand up for justice is not justice …

It’s a VISUAL

 

It’s shocking

It exposes the SYSTEM!

 

Sh!t, we SAW it!

What now??!

 

HOW can we look away now?!

 

What do we do once it’s on CAMERA?

 

We saw a knee crushing on a neck

 

But we SAW it before!

And we SAW it again!

And again

And we saw it!

and saw IT!

 

We heard the pleas.

We saw the police.

But we heard it before

So many times!

 

We read about it during breakfast

while cracking an egg

squeezing an orange for juice not justice!

 

It happens every day

behind facades

in jails to innocent people

and to the guilty

of course

 

on the streets

 

in the dark

 

in bedrooms

 

in broad daylight

 

in boardrooms

 

and courtrooms …

 

(C) 2020 poetrasblok.com

 

#JusticeForGeorgeFloyd

#JusticeForBlackLives

 

We say we’re not like them
A generation ago
We came on the same ships we were hidden below

We came seeking protection
Away from the strife
Away from the struggles and the hardships of life

I’m not an incomer
My parents were ghosts
Sir I was born here
So where would I go?

There’s ghosts on the motorway
The world is on fire
There’s ghosts on the sandflats as the water gets higher and higher

There’s ghosts in the brothels
Behind thick stony walls
There’s ghosts and their children in prison food halls

I’m not an incomer
My parents were ghosts
Sir I was born here
So where would I go?

© Adem Ilhan, LAU