La chanteuse malienne Rokia Traoré, arrêtée en juin en Italie à la suite d’une condamnation en Belgique dans une affaire de non-représentation d’enfant, va être remise à la Belgique “dans les 10 jours”, a annoncé son avocate à l’AFP.
Rokia Traoré “devra être transférée en Belgique dans les 10 jours à compter d’aujourd’hui”, a déclaré son avocate italienne, Maddalena Claudia Del Re, dans un message transmis à l’AFP à l’issue d’une audience devant la cour d’appel de Rome.
Condamnée à deux ans de prison
La chanteuse et guitariste, qui avait été condamnée par défaut en octobre à deux ans de prison dans cette affaire, avait été arrêtée en juin à l’aéroport Fiumicino de Rome, où elle venait d’atterrir pour donner un concert dans le pays.
Le parquet de Bruxelles avait alors indiqué que “l’arrestation de Mme Traoré en Italie (faisait) suite à une décision du tribunal correctionnel de Bruxelles du 18 octobre 2023 ayant condamné l’intéressée, par défaut, à une peine de deux ans d’emprisonnement du chef de non-représentation d’enfant” à la personne en ayant la garde.
Rokia Traoré avait déjà été arrêtée en mars 2020 à Paris en vertu d’un mandat d’arrêt européen, car un tribunal belge lui avait ordonné de rendre sa fille mineure au père belge de l’enfant, Jan Goossens. En dépit d’une interdiction de quitter la France, elle s’était envolée avec sa fille pour le Mali.
Problème de garde d’enfant
Après l’annonce de la décision de la justice italienne, l’avocat belge de Jan Goossens, Sven Mary, a indiqué à l’AFP que son client espérait “obtenir des solutions constructives pour le bien-être et dans l’intérêt de sa petite fille” .
L’enfant vit “maintenant depuis des mois sans ses parents, ce qui ne peut en aucun cas être bon pour elle”, a-t-il ajouté. “Il est souhaitable de garantir à la petite une éducation par les deux parents.”
Outre sa carrière musicale, Rokia Traoré est également connue pour son soutien aux réfugiés. Elle est devenue une ambassadrice de l’ONU pour les réfugiés en 2015.
Source: 7sur7.be
Last Updated on 26/09/2024 by Ousmane BALLO
He looks down. And then smiles at his dad. The helmet of the man’s cock weaves a picture of no recognition as the father’s cum streaks itself through the watery haze.
He does not answer but tilts his head down in an almost subservient nature to his father. “But you didn’t though, did you, son?”
“I look forward to the day when you are a fully grown man, my son.” His father says. “I am anxious to see the fruit of my loins reach his fully-adorned manhood. Adulthood.” Garrett can see what his father is doing, unconsciously his hands moves to his cock. He strokes the length of his tool with his left hand while he teases the blistering red crown with the fingertips of his right hand. The lightning of his cool fingertips sends sparks through every nerve in his body.
“I don’t wanna jack-off, dad.” He says flabbergasted to his dad as he turns off the tap to the hot and chilly water in the shower. Garrett picks up the pee-stained and cum-leaked jock from the tile floor.
The sound of the shower echoes throughout the empty house. The bathroom door is open. He knows he has privacy. He is alone. No older brother. No father. Or mother. It is just him. “That you, son?” A voice chimes in from the hallway.
“Last I measured, I was nearly eight inches, dad. Maybe more. I may be even bigger, who knows.” He answers nonchalantly. “It was intense. Really intense. We ran so many drills. I am exhausted.” He explains.
Garrett can see what his father is doing, unconsciously his hands moves to his cock. He strokes the length of his tool with his left hand while he teases the blistering red crown with the fingertips of his right hand. The lightning of his cool fingertips sends sparks through every nerve in his body. “But you didn’t though, did you, son?”
“You are grown. Yes. Physically. Yes, my son. But a full man. No! No!” His father, says, sharply. “You have much more to grow, to mature, before you are a man, before you can call yourself. A man.” All the blood rushes from his brain to his throbbing erection plus the heat of the shower, making the young lad, light-headed.
“Once you plant that cock of yours in some squirmy hole and empty those warm balls of yours into a moist wet hole. Then you are on your way to becoming a man, and only then will you, come-of-age. But it is only a step onto the winding pathway towards manhood. It is my job to teach you what it means to be a man.” His father stands as he finishes his sentence. Loosening his belt and pulling his shirt out from the tucked confines of his pants. “What ya lifting now?” His dad asks as he fidgets on the commode seat. He can feel his hard-on growing in his pants.
“Maybe his dad is right.” He thinks to himself as he continues with his intense fondling of his fiery red cock. Garrett nods his head as he wraps the jock over his head, and takes a hearty breathe of the pouch placed over his nose.
“That is your cock, son.” His father, says. “…but it does not make you a man. It only makes you a boy with a hard cock in his hand.” “This is what a man looks like, son.” His father says as his pants fall to the floor. From his waist out pops his representation of a 40-year-old-man. And father of two teenage boys. His cock.
He looks down. And then smiles at his dad. “You lettin’ the beard grow on your face, I see, son?” His father asks him, as his head bumps up under the chin of his towering son.
“I look forward to the day when you are a fully grown man, my son.” His father says. “I am anxious to see the fruit of my loins reach his fully-adorned manhood. Adulthood.” I used my teeth to strip off daddy’s black sheer socks. I placed them in my mouth and washed them with my saliva. I swallowed every single sweat and stink from these socks. It takes so well. I rolled them into a ball and stuck them into my jockstrap where my small dick and balls were.
“What are you now, son?” “That is your cock, son.” His father, says. “…but it does not make you a man. It only makes you a boy with a hard cock in his hand.”
“Do it!” His dad orders. His father’s words are what he hears when he erupts. His cum streaming like liquid threads from the pee-hole of his rigid cock.
He does not say anything in response to his father as his cock continues pulsing and jumping as the blood engorges his youthful cock more. And more. “Once you plant that cock of yours in some squirmy hole and empty those warm balls of yours into a moist wet hole. Then you are on your way to becoming a man, and only then will you, come-of-age. But it is only a step onto the winding pathway towards manhood. It is my job to teach you what it means to be a man.” His father stands as he finishes his sentence. Loosening his belt and pulling his shirt out from the tucked confines of his pants.
“You lettin’ the beard grow on your face, I see, son?” His father asks him, as his head bumps up under the chin of his towering son. “That you, son?” A voice chimes in from the hallway.
“I bet you got some stares from the other boys in the locker room.” His dad adds. “You couldn’t miss it.” “I managed to lift nearly two hundred today. I believe.” He explains. “But I strained a lot to do it. I was moaning. Groaning.”
His father strokes his own cock in the shower, the dew from his cock mixes with the drops condensing on the glass. His bare ass melts to the lid of the toilet bowl. He sweats from the steam and the exertions from his continued pounding of the fierceness of his cock. He wiggles as his ass opens, squeaking on the plastic surface of the thrown lid, as he takes whiffs from the cum soaked pouch of the jock that covers his face.
Daddy was furious as I could hear his deep breath. He sat down on the bench by the door. I was looking down afraid he was going to kick my ass. He lifted my head from my chin using the tip of his loafer where I can smell that smelly sheer socks he has been worn all day. Just when our eyes met, a big stinky manly wad landed on my face. Then I felt a big rough hand rubbing the spit all over my face. I heard the daddy say, “ next time remember what I told you exactly, I don’t want this to happen again, you hear me? I paused and said, “ yeeee…”. Before I finished the sentence, another spit and a big slap on me. “ when I told you something you must say yes. There is no room for you to argue or think, understood?” He said in a deep and firm tone. “ yes sir”. Without missing a beep I said it. “good boy, your night is just about to start.” Garrett resumes the fondling of his cock while he takes long drawn-out whiffs from his sweat, piss and cum stained jockstrap.
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