Westgate Risk Protection


Westgate Risk Protection.


Westgate Risk Protection


Westgate Risk Protection

WESTGATE Risk Protection Ltd. introduce a new approach to the Security, Intelligence, Foreign Support

Operations and Defense fields. We support your organization among our team of professionals with

demonstrated international experience. Our personnel have the knowledge of working in government and

private sector performing sustaining services to the democratic world and facing all types of threats.

We all live in a globalized society which offers many business opportunities and human development. However

those opportunities require the display of technical and human resources -including armed forces- in areas with

a lack of security and associate services.

THAT´S OUR MISSION: Facilitate your work worldwide at any time and protect your interests and the ones of

your organization.

As an enterprise absolutely orientated to global services, we would like to be the final solution to your needs in

terms of High-Tech security, Intelligence, Defense, Foreign Operations support and field medicine. We facilitate

our clients’ operations due to the fact that we understand the importance of their goals, their complexities and

the necessity to carry it out in the best way as possibleand we do it with suitable discretion, professionalism

and integrate our experience and understanding with other cultures.

Our better references are the various projects achieved with enormous success in distant countries and regions

with different environments such as Venezuela, Mexico, Somalia, Iraq, Brazil, Haiti, Kenya, Spain or Poland to

name a few

The Case of The Missing People


Letters to Pomona

–by Heather Murphy

When I was young, it was not unusual for my father to “crash” at the apartment I lived in with my mother and stepfather. I used to picture him smashing his blue car into our living room when I heard the adults talking about him coming over. He often missed it when they held court, most weekends, with their hash and quadraphonic stereo, preferring the bar instead. He would come over later in the evenings to play cards and talk, or, he would come over drunk, in the middle of the night, and get into my bed–dressed–with his boots on, smelling of old spice and beer, and he would tell me stories about his days at school with the nuns and how mean they were, and we would play animal, mineral, or vegetable, or name that tune, until he would start snoring. I hated it when he…

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Miss America: Brown Girl on the Bridge to Nowhere


Aya de Leon

When Vanessa Williams was crowned Miss America in 1983, I was fifteen. As a young woman of African heritage, I was supposed to feel validated, but I didn’t.  Williams’ wide blue eyes, sandy hair, and middle America girl-next-door looks didn’t do anything to validate my sense of my beauty as a Black girl.  She challenged the racial category of the winner, but not the aesthetics of the beauty standards.

Sunday, as many in the nation watched Nina Davuluri crowned as the first South Asian Miss America, I had that usual ambivalence about brown women breaking into sexist institutions.

Beauty pageants embody so many pressures on women that I think are negative and damaging.  Women being judged based on their appearance in evening gowns and in bathing suits.  I love the “talent” and “interview” portions, as they give the pretense that this is not first and foremost about appearance.  If those parts…

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A Criticism of the Criticism of “Blurred Lines”



Dear capital-F Feminists, Please Stop the Slut-Shaming. Love, a lower-case-f feminist. 

The first time I heard the funky beats of Robin Thicke’s “Blurred Lines” emanating from my radio, I did what any normal, able-bodied human being would do…I boogied my ass off. But just days after the song’s meteoric rise to the top of the charts, scathing criticisms began to arise, citing sexual harassment, slut-shaming, and victim-blaming among many of the artists’ apparently blatant offenses. Because I could never QUITE make out the words behind Thicke’s panting falsetto, I decided to do my own research into the lyrics and see what was really causing the problem. What I found was shocking. I began reading the words fully expecting to arrive at the bottom not only incensed at their content, but also ashamed that I had ever bopped my head and shaken my buns to the beats.

What shocked…

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