Mother Craft Management & Eurobodoula Services

09/11/2025

09/11/2025

30/10/2025

Shark nets are killers

14/10/2025

07/10/2025

In 1874, outside Abilene, Kansas, a young woman named Sarah Whitlock was forced into marriage with a wealthy rancher twice her age. His fortune came with cattle and land, but his heart was nothing but iron. He treated her less like a wife and more like property, his temper quick to rise, his fists quicker still. On a storm-dark night, Sarah slipped out of the ranch house with nothing but a canteen, a hunting knife, and the clothes on her back. By dawn, she was riding into the wide, merciless Kansas plains, praying freedom lay beyond the horizon.

The rancher wasted no time. He sent his hired guns after her, men who knew the land and carried rifles at their saddles. For days, Sarah survived on grit alone—drinking from muddy creeks, sleeping under mesquite, and learning to stay two steps ahead of the hunters who closed in. But desperation sharpened her spirit. She began turning their own tricks against them, scattering horses, stealing ammunition, and leading them into dead canyons where their pursuit turned into panic. The runaway bride was no longer prey—she was learning to hunt.

By the end of summer, whispers spread through Abilene’s saloons about the rancher’s men found dead on the trail, their rifles missing, their pride shattered. Sarah never returned to her husband’s house, nor did she wear his name again. Instead, she carved her legend across the prairie, the girl who had run from cruelty and taught her hunters to fear her shadow. In 1874, the runaway bride proved that freedom in the West wasn’t given—it was taken, with wit, grit, and the will to never bow again.

01/10/2025

29/09/2025

Just listening to this episode on History of Egypt podcast on women's business.