RI Lottery Lucky For Life, Numbers Midday winning numbers for June 8, 2025
The Rhode Island Lottery offers multiple draw games for those aiming to win big. Here's a look at June 8, 2025, results for each game:
05-11-20-42-43, Lucky Ball: 10
Check Lucky For Life payouts and previous drawings here.
Midday: 8-9-0-7
Evening: 2-6-5-0
Check Numbers payouts and previous drawings here.
04-24-25-29-33, Extra: 38
Check Wild Money payouts and previous drawings here.
Feeling lucky? Explore the latest lottery news & results
Prizes less than $600 can be claimed at any Rhode Island Lottery Retailer. Prizes of $600 and above must be claimed at Lottery Headquarters, 1425 Pontiac Ave., Cranston, Rhode Island 02920.
Mega Millions and Powerball jackpot winners can decide on cash or annuity payment within 60 days after becoming entitled to the prize. The annuitized prize shall be paid in 30 graduated annual installments.
Winners of the Lucky for Life top prize of $1,000 a day for life and second prize of $25,000 a year for life can decide to collect the prize for a minimum of 20 years or take a lump sum cash payment.
Powerball: 10:59 p.m. ET on Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday.
Mega Millions: 11:00 p.m. ET on Tuesday and Friday.
Lucky for Life: 10:30 p.m. ET daily.
Numbers (Midday): 1:30 p.m. ET daily.
Numbers (Evening): 7:29 p.m. ET daily.
Wild Money: 7:29 p.m. ET on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday.
This results page was generated automatically using information from TinBu and a template written and reviewed by a Rhode Island editor. You can send feedback using this form.
This article originally appeared on The Providence Journal: RI Lottery Lucky For Life, Numbers Midday winning numbers for June 8, 2025
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Thankfully, the question got rebuffed by both the Prime Minister and Pochin's Reform UK colleagues, who said it was not their policy. But it still left me – now a post-doctoral researcher at the University of Manchester – feeling sad and threatened. I worried I might have been wrong in my perception of Britain as a liberal and tolerant place for different religions. Mainly what I struggle with, however – whenever the issue flares up in Parliament – is how on earth politicians think they can prescribe to women how to deal with such a complex and personal issue. For in my case alone, my perception of being a Muslim has changed considerably over time – and I am only 37. I grew up in Iran's capital, Tehran, a super-crowded city that was beautiful to me in many ways. I was surrounded by a loving, happy family, who were religious, but me especially so. As a child, I donned the hijab (the burka isn't big in Iran), and began fasting and praying. I came to love the three elements of Islam: the spirituality, the practising, and the community. And because I was an anxious child, I found an incomparable comfort from reading passages from the Koran and common prayers, while the rituals and rules calmed my busy mind and gave me a sense of satisfaction. I also benefited from the Muslim community that was shaped around anti-imperialist political ideas in Iran. I studied a chemical engineering degree at Sharif University in Tehran, but then – like so many of my educated friends – got married at 22 and moved to London (we had an almost semi-arranged marriage and are now divorced), and it was here that I first encountered the diversity of religious life. Unlike in Iran, I began to see that being religious could go with all types of lifestyles, and it gave me a new perception of how I could live. When we moved to Vancouver in 2017 (I wanted to study in America but Trump had banned Iranians from entering the US), I still wore my hijab. But my dislike for the misogynistic essence of Islamic laws which shaped the culture of my community began to grow. Politically I was also changing. I came to see the scale of crime and deception from the Islamic Republic in Iran, and I came to detest its version of anti-imperialism and its suppression of women. I did not want to give up on my spirituality but I began to refine my version of being Muslim, starting with removing the hijab. When I moved back to London in 2020, to begin a PhD in philosophy at the London School of Economics, my own beliefs were strengthened by those I met. In the prayer room at the university, for instance, I was very pleased to find Muslims like me with no hair covering befriending women in the full burka, and bonding over their common interest in Islam's spirituality. Now – six years on since I first removed my hair covering – I feel psychologically better. I have begun to think that although I had a happy childhood, I was perhaps brainwashed in some respects and probably missed out on exploring my feminine side and having a diverse social life. Now, I have chosen a version of being Muslim that is true to me, and to some extent I think I have inspired my own friends to do the same. As for the draining debate about the burka, I believe Muslim women wear it for all sorts of reasons. They may think it is part of a package of rules which is meant to strengthen their willpower and bring about a special type of spirituality. While I may think the rule is misogynistic, it does not imply that those who observe it are misogynists. But I also understand why some find it very offensive or dangerous. It is natural, perhaps evolutionary, to want to see someone's face in order to connect. And obviously, wearing a burka highlights that the person is an immigrant, and we know many in the UK do not like immigration. Still, the decision to wear a burka or not must be decided by the women themselves. It is very paternalistic for a government to decide how a person might practise their religion. Also, should it be banned, the Muslim community would be enraged. This is what happened in Iran in 1936 (before the Islamic Republic took over in 1978). The Shah Reza Khan Pahlavi banned head coverings in a bid to modernise the country. But that violation has remained in people's memories for generations. Despite the current hatred towards the Islamic Republic and mandatory hijab, people still rage for having their choice taken away. You have to remember, a ban does not just affect the one person wearing the burka. A large circle around that person will feel violated, regardless of whether they are Muslim or not. Also, even discussing such a ban can, I fear, cause a rise in Islamophobia. If you have a hidden tendency towards Islamophobia, and something public like this happens, it may only embolden you. Hopefully, however, nothing like this will happen. I have always felt there is something special about Britain – in how it treats Muslims and religions in general, and in how diverse and liberal it is in this regard. I really hope it stays that way. As told to Gwyneth Rees Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.
