#kinshasa one two

[musicalthought]

album review; drc music's kinshasa one two

☆ 7.4/10

♡ released in september 2011

♡ congolese; afrobeats; trip hop; electronica; world beat; ndule

This album was definitely a lot different than my usual album reviews. A full instrumental album that attempts to mix electronica & afro beats, which, surprisingly, succeeds on a lot of the tracks! I’m definitely still not sure how I feel about the album, nor do I feel like I can accurately review it, but I do know I heavily enjoyed the tracks, even the ones I didn’t find myself falling in love with.

A song by song review can be found underneath the cut. My favorite tracks are African Space Anthem, Respect of the Rules, Ah Congo, and If You Wish to Stay Awake. My least favorite tracks are Hallo, Lingala, Virginia, American, and Congosmo.

Hallo -> 6/10

K-Town -> 8/10

African Space Anthem -> 9/10

Love -> 7/10

Lingala -> 6/10

Lourds -> 8/10

Respect of the Rules -> 9/10

We Come from the Forest -> 8/10

Customs -> 8.5/10

Virginia -> 6/10

Ah Congo -> 9/10

Three Piece Sweet Part 1&2 -> 8/10

If You Wish to Stay Awake -> 9/10

Departure -> 7.5/10

Americaaan -> 6/10

Congosmo -> 6/10

Lourds (Heavy) -> 6/10

[writingquestionsanswered]

Struggling with Setting and Plot

[Ask edited for length]

enzoid23 asked: I can easily make characters/relationships but the setting and plot are difficult for me. I like stories where characters are stuck together in a new place and have to learn to accept it or find a way to escape, which is a basic concept, but I can't figure out how to do it. I'm trying my to avoid copying other stories but I'm not sure where to draw the line between that and inspiration either. There's too many gaps, such as the how and the where and how many characters. I keep throwing in as much stuff as i can whether it fits or not, like a Mary Sue, but it's plot instead of a character.

First, since you asked about copying vs inspiration, start by reading these posts:

Taking Inspiration from Another Story’s Premise Similarities vs Plagiarism Plagiarism vs Reference vs Inspiration Hopefully that will help you get comfortable with borrowing ideas from other sources but making them into something new and unique to you.

Next, being able to come up with characters is great, but unless those characters are rooted in a particular setting or situation, it doesn't help much with world building and plot. And while some writers can find a plot within a setting, I think for most writers its easier to start with the plot, and once you have the beginnings of a premise, it's not too hard to expand a plot from there. As luck would have it, you already have the beginnings of a premise:

People get stuck together in a new place and have to learn to accept it or find a way to escape.

Now we can look at that and start asking questions. Perhaps the easiest question to start with is "do they learn to accept it, or do they find a way to escape?" Which one? Because those are two very different goals. Choosing one and eliminating the other tightens up your premise:

People get stuck together in a new place and have to learn to accept it.

All right... I think the next logical question is who gets stuck together in a place? Is it two people? Three people? Five people? Twenty-six people? One-hundred people? You don't even have to figure out the exact number right now, but just knowing whether this story is about two people, a few people, a small group of people, a bigger group of people, or a huge group of people is going to really narrow things down.

A small group of people get stuck together in a new place and have to learn to accept it.

Okay... where do they get stuck and how? Let's brainstorm... are these modern day boaters, or a misfit bunch of 18th century buccaneers, who become castaways on a remote island? Are they a group of students whose project gets them sucked into another dimension? Are they far-future astronauts who get stranded on an isolated planet? Keep going...

A small group of students get sucked into another dimension and stranded when their science project goes wrong.

Ahoy, there! A PREMISE!!!

Now you can start brainstorming the specific details... who are these students? Middle school/equivalent? High school/equivalent? University? Graduate school? Where and when is their school located? 1926 Chicago? 1980s London? 2077 Kinshasa? 1926 Shanghai?

A small group of middle school students in 1980's London get sucked into another dimension and stranded when their science project goes wrong.

Time to start world building and brainstorming this alternate dimension. Is it going to be an alternate version of our dimension? Will it be a dimension that's similar to a past time/place on Earth? Will this dimension be like a futuristic city? Will it be something fantastical like a place that feels like an alien city, or like Blade Runner meets Ready Player One? Are there other people in this dimension? Or is this group completely on their own?

Now you can start to think about a conflict... what is the problem that must be resolved by the end of the story? Is it simply a matter of figuring out how to survive in this new place? Are they immediately captured by some faction or army or group, and they must escape, or convince someone that they're not dangerous, or win their freedom somehow? What is the specific goal they work toward in order to reach this resolution? What steps must they achieve? Who or what places obstacles in their path, and what obstacles?

Once you know all of this, you can figure out the nitty-gritty details like how many characters, who each one is specifically, and what their role in the story will be. You can look at various structure templates (like Save the Cat! Writes a Novel, Larry Brooks Story Structure, Dramatica, etc.) for guidance... just don't feel like you have to stick to it exactly. You can also read through posts on my Plot & Story Structure master list for more help with plotting.

I hope this post gets you over the hump, though! ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[smidgen-of-hotboy]

How much did Nureyev stare at the Executives while they gave him the ultimatum and see Mag? How much red light filled his vision?

The lies that built up and overboiled and consumed him and he crawled out with nothing but 20 years of rage and anger. Mag lied and he's a dead man. The Executive's blood running down his wrists. Splattered across his face. Their dead bodies splayed across the floor. Yellow eyes.

A choice to make: life or death? A life for a life? Put the Reactor Core back, save New Kinshasa, ensure the completion of the Guardian Angel System, forever doom Brahma, it was already doomed from the start of the war anyways, run off and never look back a life of bravado and stars whizzing by? Bring Slip Jackson back, kill Juno Steel, ensure the gilded cage of another eternal worker, doom Juno Steel, he was already one foot in the grave anyways so why does it matter now, take your first love's hand and galavant the galaxy and try to outrun the past and live in a dream.

A hardy laugh, the ghost of a dead father. There are two bodies on the floor. And neither of them are Mag.

[exemplarybehaviour]

actually, one of the most fascinating things about debunking posts to me is when people turn around and just add new misinfo to the post. for example, this one on the origins of STIs. here's some tags:

#yeah its from people eating infected monkey brains - This is likely about the theory that HIV came from wild chimps via hunting practices. It's also a racist stereotype. Bushmeat (basically, hunting wild animals) is of concern for epidemiologists because of the risk of disease transfer compared to more controlled livestock practices, BUT attacking consuming bushmeat as morally bad or "uncivilized" is a common tactic to spread xenophobia and racism. "Eating monkey brains" in particular is a common racist trope in Western media.

#I learned about this in school#the way that dominoes had to fall in line for thousands upon thousands of years#for those two diseases to mix in that chimpanzee’s stomach is actually insane#and it happened on such a small island before the contact travelled up river to a city - I genuinely don't know what this person is talking about, but they also provided a link to the CDC's page on HIV so they're likely talking about HIV.

The evolutionary origin of HIV is SIV (simian immunodeficiency virus - that's from monkeys and apes). SIV is blood born, and was likely spread to a human when someone with an open cut handled butchered meat infected with SIV. There were actually multiple jumps from primates to humans, but the variant that went on to become a pandemic likely happened in what is now the Democratic Republic of Congo. There are also rarer HIV strains that came from other "jumps" across Africa, none of which were on islands. There isn't a way to be 100% sure, but the evidence discussed in the linked article suggests the jump that eventually led to a pandemic happened in a major city (Kinshasa) and the increased urbanization (more people interacting) and railroad travel helped it spread. Framing HIV origins as something that could only happen on isolated islands and traveling on rivers, when rapid disease spread is often the result of large populations able to move feely in urban environments, is both incorrect and also has xenophobic/racist undertones.

I don't know what this person means by "two diseases" "mixing." I do want to note that people frequency give unverifiable sources like "in school" or "my professor said" to legitimize incorrect information, either on purpose or not. It's a yellow flag you should look out for.

[wthtorke]

Chosen

Engineer X Afab Reader - Posted a month ago on my Patreon!  Enjoyy!

After the previous reports on how the species identified as Engineers -, also known as space jockeys, Mala'kaks, or even Ossians-, had a special connection with music, the next messages sent in hopes of establishing contact were filled with various clips of humans singing and dancing; implemented in the hopes of catching their creator’s attention.

Videos from all over the Earth made it to yet another Engineer military ship.

At first, the signal enraged them. Humans; their only successful experiment; the galaxy's child; Rotten, selfish, violent, and primitive.

The Captain's second in command, his Chief Officer, wanted to retaliate as soon as the signal reached their sensors, talking about how their species had been generous in letting them live for so long already. Still, something about the signal made the Captain curious.

Why would they reach out like this? With what intent? What could they want to say?

Gathering his crew, he played the message.

The first few seconds showed a family; it seemed; the grown males and females played different instruments as the children danced to the tune.

The crew and the Captain kept watching, with each Intro over; each other clip had different humans in it, each presenting their style of music, dancing, singing, smiling at whatever or whoever was recording them. “Culture” was the word plastered all over it; they knew what they were doing with the melodic tune they played throughout the video. But that wasn’t all. Clips of architects discussing plans of a building, followed by a timelapse of said building rising from the ground as several humans worked on it through seemly years, all in a couple of seconds. They saw an elderly-looking woman twirling her fingers holding long, fine needles in her hands, turning the simple thread into an intricate design, showcasing it proudly with a smile. Children hand-painted walls and then each other, laughing. None of the kids seemed to be related; none of them looked alike; maybe a school?

They played the videos over and over again for hours, for days. Analysing, focused, critical. They'd eye each other, whispering their thoughts as the video went on, some already had their opinions set in stone, but others had something akin to a smile as their favorite singer or dancer appeared on the screen one more time.

There was no message back. No response.

Until their ship came knocking on the Earth’s doors.

The ship landed close to where the message had originated from, a military base on the outskirts of a city. And hours later, while the Earth’s ‘representatives’ blabbered their welcomes, a massive crowd forming around them, the ship’s occupants had other intentions.The ship’s Captain lifted his hand, and all noise died down, and holograms formed on his palm, showing the frozen images from the clips they sent, a few from the hundreds featured in the video.

Male ballet dancer, Paris. Female Street dancer, Memphis. Female flutist, Venice. Male singer, New York. Female violinist, Coimbra. Female Belly Dancer, Tijuana. Female Kabuki dancer, Tokyo. Male drum player, Kinshasa. Female pottery artist- Sidney.

Confused about what these specific pictures meant, several translators were brought to their location alongside droids, trying to replicate their language. After ten minutes of struggling, and a very irritated Captain, finally, the message got across.

"I want these humans here, now."

The translators told their superiors what they demanded, not sure why they needed those specific people there, but after luring a dormant alien species out of their hiding spot in the galaxy, complying was the only option.

It took two days to get everyone from the list there. There were tents. Thousands of them set up around the ship, where the human military forces had quickly set up a barrier separating the civilians from the ship’s walls, as futile as it all seemed.

“Out of every fucking thing they could want, they want some singers and dancers. It’s so fucking stupid.”

“We set ourselves up for this one. We knew they liked hippies. They -are- the original hippies for crying out loud.”

“Pretty ballet dancers? Okay- a hot belly dancer? Sure. Now what the fuck do they want with a -pottery girl-?”

“Fuck if I know, Jared-” The two men argued as they reached the double doors that led outside again, the blinding light of the scorching sun fading as their eyes adjusted to it. The crowd cheered and booed as they pleased, two sides of each coin, even in this situation. The news feasted on the subject. “Human kidnapping?” “Human selection?” “Human sacrifice?”

At the top of the ship’s ramp stood the Captain and his crew, nine engineers in total, all waiting, stonefaced, and unmoving.

“Everyone here speaks English, right?” Said one of the men to the group of young adults gathered around them, the people they requested two days ago. After some nodding and yessing, he hums. “Great. You are not to say shit until we say so. These aliens are hostile until they show us otherwise. We don’t know why they requested your presence here specifically, though it has a tie to the videos of you we sent. You got instructed on how to act, so I’ll remind you: Stay the fuck still, stay the fuck quiet, and pray to whatever religion you follow that they won’t choose to fuck us up this time. Understood?” He doesn’t give any time for responding as the two men start walking to the gate, the group of people following behind them. The gates open, and they all follow to the base of the ramp, where two droids await.

“These are Adam and Eve, our translators. They have spent a limited time with our visitors and learned more or less a chicken scratch of their language.” The droids nod and turn forward again, facing the ramp.

The crowd’s noise dies away as the Captain takes the first step down the ramp, followed by his crew. Their walk was almost in sync as if they were droids themselves. It’s a long way down, each step building up more and more the tension in the air. They don’t reach the ground, stopping a little from the end of it, still keeping the higher ground.

The Captain speaks, and everyone listens attentively, even if they can’t understand him. His voice is husky, low, and firm. He didn’t leave room for questioning.

The droids nod and turn to their human counterparts. “The Captain informed us that the humans chosen here are to retire to their ship with them for a limited time of-”

“They want us to what-?!”

“Quiet. Proceed, Eve.”

The droid nods, “There are nine of them and nine of you. This would be akin to an exchange program but on the ship. They wish to learn more about us, but on their terms, sir.”

“I see…” The man sighs, rubbing his face as the other one groans, “Would they accept any negotiations on these terms?”

“Negative. Each human will be assigned a partner they are to stay with night and day. Partnerships are non-negotiable." Eve says.

Adam nods, "The Captain already chose the pairs.”

“So, we are to accept these terms?” The other man hissed. “Affirmative.” Said Adam. “The group is to part ways to the ship this instant.”

“But- what about clothes? Food? How are we to communicate with you guys or-, well, with them, at all?” One of the singers asks.

“Arrangements will be made throughout the day after you’ve retired to the ship,” Eve replies. “We are led to believe they don’t trust us with sending you inside with our equipment.”

“Well,” the first man sighs, “We don’t have much to do here.” he turns to the group again, “circumstances have changed, but the instructions haven’t. We have no room to negotiate your stay, but they are our guests as you are now also theirs.” he sighs harder. “Do not fuck up. Answer whatever questions they ask, and do not cause trouble. We’ll try to soften these terms and get to you faster, but until then, do not squirm in their grasp.” His tone is of warning, his eyes narrow and authoritative. He turns back to the droids, “tell the Captain we’re ready.”

The droids communicate their message, and the Captain nods, stepping down further and stopping a step or two before the ground. He opens his mouth, and the whole world seems to freeze again.

The droids nod and turn back to the group. “The Drum Player will be their navigator’s pair,” Eve says. The man nods shakily and steps forward, staring up at the aliens on the ramp. “But- which of them-?”

The Captain utters a word, and one of the engineers steps down the ramp to his side, shorter than the Captain by half a head. The navigator looks at the man and nods so briefly he wouldn’t have caught it if he wasn’t paying attention. “Go.” the man beside him hisses.

He gulps and starts walking past the droids, taking a deep breath at the foot of the ramp before taking his first step up. He walks up to the navigator and nods. The navigator nods to his Captain and begins walking up the ramp again, his human following in tow. They don’t stop near the others, walking up the ramp completely.

“Next up, the Violinist will be paired with their Weapons Specialist.” Says Adam. The girl trembles as she walks up and waits. The Captain calls, and the bulkiest engineer out of the bunch steps down the ramp, staring at her impassively. The girl whimpers, and it takes Adam’s gentle ushering to get her to move up the ramp.

“Who do you think will be paired with the Captain?”Whispers roam around the remaining group as the Captain announces more pairs.“The Flutist and the Kabuki Dancer will be paired with their Pilot and Engineer, respectively.”They step forward as the Captain calls his crew members to get them.

Four down. Five to go.

“The Singer and Street Dancer will be paired with their Biologist and Medic, respectively.”

“Do you think he’ll save himself for last?” asked the Belly Dancer; the Ballet dancer shrugs slightly.“The Belly Dancer will be paired with their Communication Officer.”“Guess that answers your question.” He says as she nods and walks up the ramp to meet her alien.

Leaving only the Captain and the Chief Officer still standing on the ramp.

The Captain utters the last two pairs, and Eve nods.“Last but not least, the Captain’s pair will be the Pottery Artist, leaving the Chief Officer with the Ballet Dancer.”The Ballet Dancer nods and walks up the ramp with his pair.

Leaving you to stare up at the Captain on the ramp.

[beardedmrbean]

KINSHASA (Reuters) -The leader of an attempted coup on Sunday in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) has been killed and some 50 people including three American citizens arrested, a spokesman for the Central African country's army told Reuters.

Gunfire rang out around 4 a.m. in the capital Kinshasa, a Reuters reporter said. Armed men attacked the presidency in the city centre, according to spokesman Sylvain Ekenge.

Another attack took place at the nearby home of Vital Kamerhe, a member of parliament who is tipped to become speaker, Kamerhe's spokesman, Michel Moto Muhima, and the Japanese ambassador said in posts on X.

Moto Muhima said two guards and an attacker had been killed in that incident. Ekenge also said one attacker was killed there.

A shell fired from Kinshasa hit the city of Brazzaville in neighbouring Republic of Congo, injuring several people, that country's government said in a statement, adding that one person had been hospitalised.

Ekenge named Christian Malanga, a U.S.-based Congolese politician, as the leader of the attempted coup.

"Malanga was definitively neutralised during the attack on the Palais de la Nation, a certain Aboubacar was neutralised during the attack on the residence of Vital Kamarhe [and] the others - around 50 including three American citizens - were arrested and are currently undergoing interrogation by the specialised services of the Armed Forces," Ekenge told Reuters.

He said Malanga first attempted and aborted a coup in 2017 and that one of the American citizens arrested was Malanga's son.

A Facebook page appearing to belong to Malanga posted a live-streamed video of what appeared to be the attack.

"We, the militants, are tired. We cannot drag on with Tshisekedi and Kamerhe, they have done too many stupid things in this country," Malanga said in Lingala in the video, which has not been independently verified by Reuters.

U.S. Ambassador Lucy Tamlyn said in a post on social media that she was "very concerned" by reports that American citizens had allegedly been involved in the events.

"Please be assured that we will cooperate with the DRC authorities to the fullest extent as they investigate these criminal acts and hold accountable any U.S. citizen involved in criminal acts," she said.

The U.S. embassy had earlier issued a security alert warning of "ongoing activity by DRC security elements" and reports of gunfire in the area.

The United Nations' stabilisation mission in the DRC said that its chief, Bintou Keita, condemned the incidents in the strongest terms and offered her support to the Congolese authorities in a post on X.

Tshisekedi was re-elected for a second term as president in December, but has yet to name a government, six weeks after appointing a prime minister.

Kamerhe was a candidate for speaker of parliament in an election that had been scheduled for Saturday but was delayed by Tshisekedi.

[warningsine]

KINSHASA, Congo (AP) — Congo’s army said it foiled a coup attempt early Sunday and arrested the perpetrators, including several foreigners, following attacks on the presidential palace and the residence of a close ally of Congo’s president that left three people dead in the capital, Kinshasa.

At first, local media identified the armed men as Congolese soldiers but then reported they were linked to self-exiled opposition figure Christian Malanga, who later posted a video on Facebook threatening President Felix Tshisekedi.

Malanga was killed at the presidential palace after he resisted arrest by guards, Congolese army spokesperson Brig. Gen. Sylvain Ekenge told The Associated Press.

Tshisekedi was reelected as president in December in a chaotic vote amid calls for a revote from the opposition over what they said was a lack of transparency. The Central African country has witnessed similar trends of disputed elections in the past.

Ekenge said on state television Sunday that the attempted coup d’état was “nipped in the bud by Congolese defense and security forces (and) the situation is under control.” Among the perpetrators were three Americans, including the son of Malanga, Ekenge later told the AP.

This also came amid a crisis gripping Tshisekedi’s ruling party over an election for the parliament’s leadership, which was supposed to be held Saturday but was postponed.

Clashes were reported Sunday between men in military uniform and guards of Vital Kamerhe, a federal legislator and a candidate for speaker of the National Assembly of Congo, at his residence in Kinshasa, about 2 kilometers (1.2 miles) from the presidential palace and where some embassies are also located.

Kamerhe’s guards stopped the armed men, Michel Moto Muhima, the politician’s spokesperson said on the X social media platform, adding that two police officers and one of the attackers were killed in the shootout that started around 4:30 a.m.

Footage, seemingly from the area, showed military trucks and heavily armed men parading deserted streets in the neighborhood as the army said the situation has been brought under control.

Meanwhile, the self-exiled Malanga appeared in the live-streamed video at the presidential palace surrounded by several people in military uniform and said: “Felix, you’re out. We are coming for you.”

On his website, the opposition leader’s group — the United Congolese Party (UCP) — is described as “a grassroots platform that unifies the Congolese Diaspora around the world opposing the current Congolese dictatorship.”

Tshisekedi hasn’t so far addressed the public about Sunday’s events.

On Friday, he met with parliamentarians and leaders of the Sacred Union of the Nation ruling coalition in an attempt to resolve the crisis seizing his party, which dominates the national assembly. He said he would not “hesitate to dissolve the National Assembly and send everyone to new elections if these bad practices persist.”

The United States Embassy in Congo issued a security alert Sunday, urging caution after “reports of gunfire.”

[humanrightsupdates]

DR Congo: Uphold Rights, Rule of Law After Failed Coup

Prosecute Participants Fairly; Investigate Possible Summary Killings

(Nairobi) – The Democratic Republic of Congo government should ensure that those who took part in an attempted coup are prosecuted in fair trials, Human Rights Watch said today. The authorities should also thoroughly and impartially investigate and appropriately prosecute security forces’ alleged extrajudicial killings of coup participants.

Details are still emerging about the attempted coup by a group of about 50 Congolese and foreigners in Kinshasa, the capital, on May 19, 2024. Media reports indicate the attempted coup led to the deaths of at least two security guards and one civilian and that the security forces killed several coup participants. At least two coup participants may have been killed while trying to escape custody.

“The government both has a responsibility to ensure the security of the country and to hold those responsible for the coup attempt accountable, based on international fair trial standards,” said Lewis Mudge, Central Africa director at Human Rights Watch. “The government’s response needs to be rights-respecting, which includes impartially investigating possible security force involvement in alleged summary executions.”

Christian Malanga, a US-based Congolese opponent of the government, the self-proclaimed “President of New Zaire,” and head of a government in exile, allegedly led the coup. Malanga, his son, and other coup participants breached the Palais de la Nation (Palace of the Nation) in Kinshasa, which serves as the president’s office. The coup participants allegedly attacked the residences of the prime minister, the defense minister, and another senior politician.

Congolese security forces killed Malanga in unclear circumstances hours after he seized the Palais de la Nation.

[brookstonalmanac]

Events 5.11

330 – Constantine the Great dedicates the much-expanded and rebuilt city of Byzantium, changing its name to New Rome and declaring it the new capital of the Eastern Roman Empire. 868 – A copy of the Diamond Sūtra is published, making it the earliest dated and printed book known. 973 – In the first coronation ceremony ever held for an English monarch, Edgar the Peaceful is crowned King of England, having ruled since 959 AD. His wife, Ælfthryth, is crowned queen, the first recorded coronation for a Queen of England. 1068 – Matilda of Flanders, wife of William the Conqueror, is crowned Queen of England. 1258 – Louis IX of France and James I of Aragon sign the Treaty of Corbeil, renouncing claims of feudal overlordship in one another's territories and separating the House of Barcelona from the politics of France. 1713 – Great Northern War: After losing the Battle of Helsinki to the Russians, the Swedish and Finnish troops burn the entire city, so that it would not remain intact in the hands of the Russians. 1812 – Prime Minister Spencer Perceval is assassinated by John Bellingham in the lobby of the British House of Commons. 1813 – William Lawson, Gregory Blaxland and William Wentworth discover a route across the Blue Mountains, opening up inland Australia to settlement. 1857 – Indian Rebellion of 1857: Indian rebels seize Delhi from the British. 1880 – Seven people are killed in the Mussel Slough Tragedy, a gun battle in California. 1889 – An attack upon a U.S. Army paymaster and escort results in the theft of over $28,000 and the award of two Medals of Honor. 1894 – Four thousand Pullman Palace Car Company workers go on a wildcat strike. 1919 – Uruguay becomes a signatory to the Buenos Aires copyright treaty. 1970 – The 1970 Lubbock tornado kills 26 and causes $250 million in damage. 1985 – Fifty-six spectators die and more than 200 are injured in the Bradford City stadium fire. 1996 – After the aircraft's departure from Miami, a fire started by improperly handled chemical oxygen generators in the cargo hold of Atlanta-bound ValuJet Airlines Flight 592 causes the Douglas DC-9 to crash in the Florida Everglades, killing all 110 on board. 1997 – Deep Blue, a chess-playing supercomputer, defeats Garry Kasparov in the last game of the rematch, becoming the first computer to beat a world-champion chess player in a classic match format. 1998 – India conducts three underground atomic tests in Pokhran. 2011 – An earthquake of magnitude 5.1 hits Lorca, Spain. 2013 – Fifty-two people are killed in a bombing in Reyhanlı, Turkey. 2014 – Fifteen people are killed and 46 injured in Kinshasa, DRC, in a stampede caused by tear gas being thrown into soccer stands by police officers. 2016 – One hundred and ten people are killed in an ISIL bombing in Baghdad. 2022 – The Burmese military executes at least 37 villagers during the Mon Taing Pin massacre in Sagaing, Myanmar. 2024 - Minnesota officially updates its flag.

[script-a-world]

Submitted via Google Form: Official Languages

Can I create a small country that uses multiple official and common every day languages? Like 5 official languages and it's very common to hear 10 more languages in use every day on the streets. Signage would always be in the 5 official languages and it's not uncommon to find the other languages available in places as well. It's going to be a very ethnically diverse place and multiracial. I am imagining that only 5% of the population would be monolingual. 95% would be bilingual, 70% trilingual, 40% quadrilingual or more. How could schooling work? All local schools are required to pick one of the official languages as the main medium and as mandatory study, one of the other official languages as well as a third non-official language, with the majority of schools having on offer 3-4 other languages. Also, how would this affect sign language? Could the deaf community as a whole create a main sign language since it would be a small community. If I have an 8 million population, and only 0.1% would sign as a main language that'll be 8000 people. Why would they want to be divided further, since sign is a language in itself. Part 2: Oh, uh the question I asked about languages, when I say small country I mean it's like size of Hawaii's Big Island, although 30% would be sparcely inhabited. I guess those places could be a bit relaxed in language needs?

Tex: It would need to be a very cosmopolitan place, and likely both a place that’s economically-dependent in its wider world but also geographically located in an area that can sustain lots of sea, land, and possibly also air travel.

If you’re talking about a place the size of anything in the context of Hawai’i, then that decreases the likelihood of a sizeable native population. In all practicality, one or two languages will win out as the lingua franca due to sheer consideration of making a brain juggle multiple languages at a time.

If you’re having the local schools focus on one or maybe two languages for education, then those will likely be the languages that become de rigeur for participating in that society; the other languages by dint of lower popularity might become regional, or relegated to specific societal functions (religious, academic, etc). The language(s) that money moves in is going to be your predominant indicator of linguistic trends.

It’s not uncommon for many countries to have bilinguality or even trilinguality, it’s just that such a culture will accrue meanings for each language to a particular function. You might be able to sort things out like that, i.e. bakeries speak language A because of X history, recreation centers speak language B because of Y reason, hospitals speak language C because of Z reason.

Utuabzu: This sort of multilingual society is more common than most monolingual people often assume, both across the world and across history. Monolingualism is actually fairly uncommon. Countries varying in size from India* to Luxembourg have multiple official languages and get along just fine. Size isn't really an obstacle here - Vanuatu has over 1000 languages - nor are density or development - Singapore has 4 official languages and quite a few more community ones, and Switzerland famously has 4 official languages and very strong and healthy regional dialects.

In these situations it's not uncommon for something called diglossia (or polyglossia) to occur. This is a situation in which people divide up domains - broad categories of contexts - between languages. So, for example, in Kinshasa a Bakongo person might speak Kikongo at home and with close friends of the same background, Lingala on the street, kiSwahili in the marketplace and French at school or when dealing with authorities. This is a division of domain (Kikongo for the domestic domain, Lingala for the informal public domain, kiSwahili for the commercial domain and French for the educational and governmental domains). This also commonly happens with dialects of a language, and if you speak one yourself you can probably notice yourself doing this, speaking the local dialect with friends and family in casual contexts and a more standard form of the language with teachers and officials in formal contexts.

Something that should be noted is that these situations can be stable for long or even indefinite periods, such as with Swiss German dialects and Standard German in Switzerland or English and Cantonese in Hong Kong, or they can be unstable, with either the P (prestige) form edging out the NP (non-prestige), such as with Métropolitain French with Occitan in southern France** or the NP edging out the P as people see it as elitist or pointless***.

Multilingual education is also a lot more common than monolingual people often assume, and has been around for a long time. The Austrian (and later Austro-Hungarian) Empire used first language primary education through its entire history, transitioning to German or Hungarian higher education, and for a very practical reason. It's a lot easier to teach kids the basics of literacy and numeracy in their first language rather than simultaneously teaching them a foreign one. Especially when the community has low literacy levels among adults, so their parents can't help. Italy didn't start teaching primary school in Italian until the 20th Century (though this was as much a function of a severe shortage of teachers who could speak it as anything else - estimates say as few as 2.5% of Italians could speak Italian in 1860).

Multilingual education is also not detrimental to overall educational quality. The system generally considered best in the world - that of Finland - is multilingual, requiring students to be able to speak both Finnish and Swedish. Even in places with less prestigious minority languages - such as Wales or New Zealand - multilingual schools are often preferred, because among other reasons they tend to have better outcomes than their monolingual peers. It's not uncommon in these places to see monolingual parents putting their kids into these schools - usually originally set up to help revitalise the language - for the quality of the education rather than for any cultural or emotional connection to the language.

So, the most likely model for an education system here is one that starts with first language (L1) instruction in the first few grades, gradually introducing one of the official languages, first as a subject in its own right and then as a medium of instruction for other subjects. By 'middle school' or equivalent you might see the L1 reduced to a subject, with the primary official language taking over as the general medium of instruction, and another official language beginning to be introduced in the same manner, potentially along with a foreign language, especially if it is a regional or global lingua franca. By high school it would generally be expected that the kids are competent in at least their main official language and can get by in their secondary one, and focus would shift more to preparing for university or other higher education. This might mean teaching more in the regional/global lingua franca if the higher education system primarily operates in that language - likely if the country is small and thus also generally reliant on foreign students to boost enrollments to a sustainable level.

In a country this size, there's probably a general 'street' language, the one that people use in casual encounters with strangers in the market or on a bus or something, where they don't know what other languages this person speaks. These are often either the language that came to fill the commercial domain - since everybody needs to be able to talk to merchants - or the one that dominates the government domain - since everybody needs to be able to communicate with authorities, or at least understand what they're being ordered to do. If the former, it's generally the language of the group that historically dominated trade - like kiSwahili across Eastern and Central Africa or Malay across insular South East Asia. If the latter, it's generally the language of the most powerful group, usually the one that united the country, like Amharic in Ethiopia or Farsi in Iran, or of a colonising power, or of a religious authority, like Spanish and Portuguese across Latin America, French across much of Africa or English in South Asia, or sometimes just the largest group, like Guarani in Paraguay (though this usually overlaps with the unifying group).

Often, when a country was unified very quickly by an outside power, like colonised places such as Papua New Guinea or Vanuatu, or had a very large number of immigrants (voluntary or otherwise) from many language backgrounds, such as Hawai'i**** or slave colonies like Haïti or Suriname, a creole forms and takes the role of street language -  Tok Pisin, Bislama, Hawai'ian Pidgin, Haitian Créole and Sranan Tongo respectively.

It's also not uncommon for there to be a prestige language, sometimes a long dead one, that gets used for ceremonial, religious, scholarly or legal purposes - or once was and left behind a bunch of borrowed words in the languages that displaced it - like Latin across much of Western Europe, Koine Greek across most of Europe, Sanskrit across the Indosphere (the region historically influenced by Indian civilisations), Classical Chinese across the Sinosphere (the area historically influenced by Chinese civilisation), Classical Arabic across the Islamic world, Ge'ez in Ethiopia. Think of how much legal and scientific jargon in English is borrowed from Latin and Greek. Similar things occur in other languages.

As for signed languages, they can be stable at quite small population sizes - New Zealand Sign Language isn't going anywhere - because d/Deaf and Hard of Hearing (HoH) people sort of need them to communicate comfortably, without requiring implants or lipreading or subtitles. When signed languages get displaced, it is generally by other signed languages, eg. Hawai'i Sign Language being displaced by American Sign Language. Any language can be stable at a low speaker number, so long as transmission between generations remains high. Basically so long as kids are still being taught the language by their parents, the language is generally going to stick around.

*India gets bonus points for the array of different scripts in use, further complicating matters.

**This usually occurs when a government uses the education and legal systems to deliberately suppress regional languages in favour of the national one.

***British English gives us a good example here, as Received Pronunciation (RP) - that weird, stilted form that you hear from old recordings of British politicians and royals - was edged out of the government domain by a form closer to the regional dialects, particularly those of South-East England.

****Immigration from Asia and Southern Europe into Hawai'i actually begins before the Hawai'ian kingdom was overthrown by the US, and Hawai'ian Pidgin (actually an English-based creole, but the name stuck) actually emerged in independent Hawai'i.

[somebodyssherlock-heterodyne]

HI i need ur bullet point ideas for the tattooed pete/cult priestess vespa/name reveal rabbit hole we’ve gone down on my desk in da morning (please the urge to write this is so trying i need the planning PLEASE)

OK so I don't have much other than what I already posted BUT

-Vespa became a cult leader when she was wasted between assassination jobs and saw a bunch of total randos basically lay siege to the local government building of the local shitty government with like, molotov cocktails and a riding lawnmower that had been modded into a tank. Vespa, who had until two hours ago worked for said shitty government and hated them even more as a result, helped them out, which counts as automatic inauguration into the cult of the Angel of Brahma. She lent her services as a medic to those injured, decided to also take a look at their sundry other sick/injured members, and realized that this cult not only overthrows local shitty governments, they also act as a safe haven slash underground railroad for anyone trying to get the hell out of dodge. She crashes on their couch and wakes up the next morning with a shit hangover, and a bunch of flowers on the coffee table next to her. The flowers are from a few refugees she'd helped out, who wouldn't have been able to leave the planet to reach the next outpost of the cult without her patching them up. Vespa is curious enough to ask, and discovers that the cult of revolutionaries who smuggle people out for only the price those people can actually afford to pay isn't, like, unified or anything. There's no central leadership, just the tenants of the Angel of Brahma as they were written by the cult's founder and the only known member to have met the Angel in person. Vespa is, on one hand, busy as shit, but also like. These branches of cult don't really have established communication or any centralized interplanetary leadership, or interplanetary members, and hey, she gets around, she can pass messages along. So Vespa ends up connecting the disparate groups together, and giving them some advice on how to establish good governments to replace the shitty ones, which turns into accidentally becoming the leader of a cult that spans several dozen solar systems and has a grudge against basically every government they've lived under. Vespa does some digging into the Angel, cause like, that's their beacon of hope, yknow? That's the symbol people turn to. She can do some research. She turns up fuck all, except that the Angel has to be a goddamn shape-shifter to have made it out of New Kinshasa and that they might actually straight up be a biblical angel cause she's struggling to come up with anything else that could've scared Brahma's whole government this shitless. There's also a lot of like. Prison breaks and thefts that happened right afterwards, that apparently were so ballsy and impossible that while the near destruction of New Kinshasa put the fear of God into the Brahmese government, this stuff is what cemented it. So she shares this with her fellows, not realizing she's written a sermon, and they ask for more so she digs up more and oops she's written the mythology of the Angel of Brahma.

Eventually the cultists formalize it and it's customary to have a faceless image of the Angel behind a little statue of their high priestess Vespa on your altar. Someone designs cult robes that double as riot gear for when you're toppling tyrants with molotov cocktails and modded riding lawnmowers, and puts some fancy embroidery on Vespa's, and then Vespa gets asked to lead a couple celebrations and that's when she realizes this is her life now.

-Peter’s tattoos coincide with him getting absolutely trashed in response to the first, second, and third anniversary of Mag's death, so he can't really make himself think about them long enough to book an appointment and get them removed. The cat whiskers were the first one, suggested by a random child he met on the street while wasted, who he allowed to draw cat whiskers and ears on him because they asked very politely if they could. Some jackass walked by and was like "that's so ugly I bet he'll wash it off as soon as you leave" and the child was visibly trying so hard not to cry so Peter, seventeen and wasted off his ass, said "bitch bet" and grabbed the kid's hand and they got to watch him get their drawing turned into a tattoo and they held his hand in case it hurt. This is the only tattoo Peter actually has a full memory of getting, and he doesn't remove it because 1 spite 2 that child was ADORABLE he can't betray them like that.

The mascara streaks he knows next to nothing about besides the fact that he wasn't wearing mascara when he went out to kill half the cells in his liver, so his best guess is that he decided he needed mascara tears for the vibes that night and his brain jumped to "get mascara tears tattooed on" instead of "apply mascara and continue crying".

The Aurinkay shipper one he is unfortunately perfectly able to extrapolate because it happened during the height of his fan boy phase when he was writing RPF about Vespa and Buddy and some BITCH had the audacity to tell him that nobody from Brahma could possibly ~understand them~ well enough for proper characterization (the worst thing they could have said to 19yo Peter Nureyev given that like five of his recent heists were in the name of finding out more details about their crimes so his fanfiction was as accurate as possible). Hence, well. Brahmese calligraphy. He went on to write his most popular fic to date afterwards though, to this day it's the standard by which all other Aurinkay RPF is judged.

-When Vespa asks them to make a stop so she can lead the high holy day of her cult, Peter registers nothing besides being glad for the amazing distraction from who's death day it is. They are halfway through the sermon, and Peter has been thinking 'wow this sounds a lot like that prison break I staged when I was eighteen' which turns into OH NO when Vespa finishes the introductory tale with 'today we praise the Angel of Brahma for freeing all those they have freed, from prisons of stone, prisons of law, prisons of fear, and prisons of oppression.' He spends the entire rest of Vespa's run through of myths/genuinely giving praise to this person who has inspired so many people convincing himself that hospitalizing himself so he can leave is not worth how pissed Vespa would be. Juno is holding his hand, face totally blank, trembling with what is absolutely repressed laughter. They get back to their room while Jet, Buddy, and Rita give Vespa all the compliments she can take, and Juno barely waits for the door to close before he's laughing too hard to stand. When he finds Peter’s folder of RPF fics he started working on after joining the Carte Blanche (a mix of rewrites now that he can be more on point with personalities and sequel fics that may or may not be slightly to the left accounts of their adventures on the Carte Blanche), Juno raises the very valid point that Peter has nothing to be ashamed of considering the sermons Vespa read last week.

-Vespa starts talking more openly about the Angel to the crew, both as "proofread this sermon" and, more rarely, as admiration for the symbol that she focused on during the darkest time of her life, one she might not have made it through that darkness without. Buddy starts looking into the Angel too, because she likes doing things for her wife. Rita's just curious about what kind of person you gotta be to make Vespa Illkay religious.

It's actually a job that has the crew finding out Peter’s from Brahma, given the necessity of someone who can read Brahmese calligraphy for this particular heist. Vespa asks if he wants to join the cult and he turns her down flat, immediately after the words are out of her mouth. Vespa, suspicious, asks him why not. Peter replies that it wouldn't feel right to do so, and the subject is dropped, though Vespa takes 'it wouldn't feel right' to mean 'I don't support what they stand for enough to fight for it' and she adds that as a point in favor of Peter’s origin being 'wealthy heir from the Outer Rim who got into crime for thrills, probably from New Kinshasa'.

This causes some tension, but no super major issues, until Rita's digging into the Angel turns up the name 'Peter Nureyev' and said Peter Nureyev has a fucking heart attack walking into the kitchen and hearing Rita say 'Mistah Nureyev', to which he unthinkingly responds 'when did Juno tell you my name?' And immediately drowns the whole kitchen in dead silence, because Juno is standing by the coffee maker about to ask where the hell Rita learned that cause it wasn't from him, Jet, Buddy, Vespa, and Rita were discussing the true name of the Angel of Brahma before those two walked in, and everyone is coming to several realizations in very quick succession.

When Peter can finally be coaxed out of where he's folded himself into the trunk of the Ruby 7, Buddy suggests they all sit down and talk, and that's when the call about the Brahmese government trying to hunt down Vespa's fellow cultists comes through.

Peter and Vespa, eerily enough, are operating on the exact same wavelength, that being 'you fucked around and now you're finding out' though Vespa is furious and Peter is mostly just bitter and tired and wishing he could've been done with this shit but NO the Brahmese government just HAD to be a dick again even after he'd gone through felony charges like a bucket list dissuading them from that. Fine. Fucking fine. They fucked around and now they're finding out.

So the Carte Blanche leads the Brahmese revolution to victory, with Juno being a BAMF to so public and epic a degree the cult names him the Sunlit Saintess, establishes a new government and a set of lovely houses that will await their retirement, huzzah the death laser system is dismantled even if the flight one is left intact, and hm. Resources are a problem.

Cue Carte Blanche stealing a truckload of crap from the nearest rich bastards, both necessities and not; art, fabric, food, supplies, jewelry, so on and so forth, both the stuff people need to survive and the stuff that helps people live. They make rather a lot of stops in that fashion- craft supplies, tools of various trades, the list is varied and longer than Peter is. With Brahma acting as a local haven for everyone fleeing a dictatorship, there's a big resurgence in culture and the Outer Rim finally has a planet with a solid government that weilds enough power and resources to actually have diplomatic relations with the Solar planets. Postwar diplomacy is actually going alright for the first time ever, basically.

Anyways at some point Juno buys Halloween costume angel wings for Peter to wear to their next stop on Brahma. He's still sleeping on the couch when they arrive. Rita asks Peter if he'll wear them with the halo she made and he can't fucking say no to her so he does, and now whenever they go to Brahma there are wings on the back of his outfit because Buddy does embroidery and is perfectly fine robbing the laundry basket.

The Jupeter wedding is hosted on Brahma, considered a wedding of their two major religious figures. It is lovely and epic. Vespa is basically the Brahmese Pope, which amuses her greatly. Please picture the Kanagawas/Valles Vicky/Alessandra Strong/Mick/Sasha reading the newspaper, oh Brahma's Angel and Saintess got married, huh- and then immediately spit out their coffee becuase IS THAT JUNO FUCKING STEEL. (Mick moves to Brahma and within the week he's everyone's favorite Solar boy who doesn't have a normal braincell in his skull. He starts designing churches for the cult. The worst part is that he's actually pretty good at it, so Juno just has to let him draw mosaics and frescoes and stained glass windows of him and Nureyev).

It is only after all of this that Buddy and Vespa find out about Peter’s face tattoos and the RPF folder. Vespa gleefully adds the RPF about the Carte Blanche crew to the mythology of the Angel and credits Peter in her sermon. He watches it from the living room of Chateau Blanche (the little secret port/fortress they park the Carte Blanche at when they stop by Brahma) and Juno snickers while Peter just buries his face in his hands and gives up. He's still in that position on the couch when Vespa comes home.

[mariacallous]

NSELE, Democratic Republic of the Congo—Nana Ibumbu noticed that 8-year-old Daniel Mwanza was burning up. Ibumbu is the nutritionist at an orphanage on the outskirts of Kinshasa, the capital of the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and oversees all aspects of the children’s health. Last fall, Congo faced a major mpox (previously known as monkeypox) outbreak, as well as a persistent threat from measles. She decided to give Daniel antibiotics, hoping his fever would die down. But then the vomiting started, and soon afterward blotchy rashes appeared on Daniel’s skin.

Days later, two younger children, Chris Matondo and Benicielle Tshitenge, showed the same symptoms. Ibumbu thought they all might have measles; few of the 35 kids living in the orphanage were vaccinated. She took the three to a nearby health clinic, where Dr. Tresor Gulefwa had another theory: mpox. To be sure, he had to send samples to the National Institute of Biomedical Research (INRB), located in central Kinshasa, about 18 miles away—the only lab able to test for infectious diseases in either Congo or the neighboring Republic of the Congo.

Congo struggles with a string of annual epidemics: Measles, polio, cholera, plague, malaria, Ebola, and mpox are just some of the diseases that have threatened children, many of whom are unvaccinated. In Congo, only 35 percent of children are fully vaccinated before their second birthday. This follows an unfortunate trend: Before the COVID-19 pandemic, global immunization rates were slowly increasing, but in 2021 almost 25 million children around the world missed their routine vaccinations, the largest backslide in more than three decades.

Congo has long been a ground zero for infectious diseases. Low vaccination coverage—as well as reduced trust in vaccines—and poor sanitation put the country at risk of exporting viruses across its borders. During a 2018 Ebola outbreak, which became the world’s second-largest, related cases were reported in Uganda. Although Congo’s government has taken steps to improve immunization rates, the country’s large size and limited financial resources make controlling nationwide outbreaks difficult. Without comprehensive vaccination campaigns, diseases can spread and adapt undetected and threaten the rest of the world, too.

Days after returning from the health clinic, 1-year-old Chris’s fever remained high. All the orphanage staff could do was wait. Without the test results, they wouldn’t quarantine the children, as a mpox quarantine would be much stricter than one for measles, given the 3 percent to 6 percent mortality rate for mpox. As they waited for the results, the children in the orphanage mingled and spread the disease to at least two others. Even months later, Gulefwa never received the test results from the INRB.

But whether the children at the orphanage had measles or mpox still mattered: Although a more effective mpox vaccine, Jynneos, was approved by the FDA in 2019, it is not yet publicly available in Congo. When the virus reached Europe and the United States last year, causing short-lived but sizable outbreaks, they received the available vaccines. But Congo is among the countries most affected by both viruses. Between 2020 and 2022, the World Health Organization recorded more than 10,000 cases of mpox in Congo, with more than 360 deaths. Congo also experienced its worst-ever measles epidemic between 2018 and 2020, with more than 460,000 cases. The true figures are likely much higher.

Given Congo’s history with the disease, just one case of mpox is enough to declare an epidemic, according to Gulefwa. Last year, 22 of the country’s 26 provinces experienced mpox epidemics. But the lack of capacity for rapid testing in Congo often renders test results useless, as the orphanage staff learned. “The biggest challenge is the time between when we receive the samples and when we find the results,” Placide Mbala, INRB’s lab manager, said.

Congo struggles to immunize millions of children under ordinary circumstances. A lack of infrastructure, fuel shortages, and the centralization of vaccines in the capital have contributed to the problem. Keeping the vaccines at the necessary temperature in the tropical climate is the biggest challenge, said Devos Kabemba, the head of the Nsele health zone. He added that the Nsele health zone doesn’t receive enough annual funding to develop adequate vaccination campaigns—only $3 per child, when it really needs $15. Support from international partners isn’t enough to cover it.

The government has focused on education. At the Mervedi medical center in Nsele, mothers stood in line with their newborns waiting for them to be vaccinated. Many women said they have no access to clean, running water—another factor exacerbating epidemics in the country. Outside the clinic, Ortane Manligo, a community volunteer, spoke to people about vaccines. Her work is key, as rampant disinformation following the COVID-19 pandemic has made people wary of vaccination.

Community volunteers “were doing well with convincing parents to vaccinate children against polio and other diseases,” Manligo said. “But when COVID came, disinformation spread on WhatsApp.” A study by the government and international partners showed that 45 percent of disinformation about COVID-19 is transmitted by word of mouth and 20 percent through social media; while the government has involved community leaders in its fight against disinformation, rumors remain hard to control. COVID-19 made it harder to convince citizens to get vaccinated, undermining preparedness for future pandemics.

Another major barrier to immunization efforts is low-level corruption. Many health workers responsible for vaccinating children around the country say they have not been paid for years. Jacques Belly, a health worker in Kinshasa who administers vaccines, said he has not been paid beyond his $75 monthly risk bonus since 2008, adding that the situation in the Nsele health zone resembles that of most of his colleagues. “We are Congolese, and we care about our children. We continue to work, and we continue to ask the government to pay us through strikes and protests,” Belly said.

Most funding for vaccines and medical utilities comes from partners like UNICEF, the World Health Organization, and the Gates Foundation, but health workers’ salaries are the responsibility of the state. Veronique Kilumba Nkulu, Congo’s deputy health minister, said the issue stems from a lack of digital payment infrastructure that could allow the money to reach health workers in remote areas. She said in an interview with Foreign Policy that they are trying to introduce more mobile payments, but the situation on the ground shows that even in Kinshasa, health workers aren’t receiving their salaries.

This precarity has led some local health workers to extort the population by asking parents for money in exchange for vaccines. Kamy Musene, a former program field manager for the University of California, Los Angeles, infectious disease program in Congo, monitored the government’s efforts between 2018 and 2022. He found that some mothers were collecting sugar cane to pay for vaccination cards for their children. “We heard in some villages that mothers had to buy vaccination cards for their babies, which can cost almost $1,” he said. Some mothers said their children still did not receive vaccines, and in some cases not even their cards.

“The problem is they know what is happening, but they are not reacting to what we are telling them. Nothing is changing,” Musene said.

The children at the orphanage in Nsele eventually recovered, according to Ibumbu, but the test results never came back. While the outbreak—which she still suspects to be measles—would have been a good opportunity to immunize all children at the orphanage, Gulefwa never received the supplies to do so, leaving the orphanage vulnerable to outbreaks. For Ibumbu and the children at the orphanage, the lack of food and beds is a much more immediate threat. “We don’t have enough means to protect and support these children,” she said. “But we’re trying to do it; it’s our duty.”

Although the COVID-19 pandemic laid bare the importance of global health security, the inequity and disinformation that followed have affected the ability of some governments in the global south to immunize children against other threats. As new diseases emerge, countries like Congo remain on the front line of eradication—and without the appropriate resources, they risk fueling other outbreaks and other pandemics.

[smidgen-of-hotboy]

Our Angel of Brahma, pt. vi

This one's gonna hurt. Strap in folks. (promise for something lighter afterwards) @ceaseless-watchers-special-girl @ananxiousgenz @demonic-panini @the-private-eye @gwenlena

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING BEGINS.  NEW VOICE:  Two weeks ago we were celebrating Baird’s seventeenth birthday. Charlie had given him an early birthday gift– a book that he bribed a Constable for a few days prior. And now this week, Charlie is missing. Here is what we know: On the first day of the week, Charlie had plans with Talia's little book club to sneak on to New Kinshasa. They were going to hide on the aid shuttles and storm the pantries in hopes of getting more supplies to Brahma. They were successful and managed to get on the next shuttle back to Brahma the following morning without getting caught.  On the third day of the week, Charlie made plans to go back to New Kinshasa using the same method to search for medicine for Mrs. Darius. She’s been reporting a lot of pain. If I allocate any more to her, we won’t have enough to go around until New Kinshasa supplies us with more meds in six months. For both of these outings, Baird was not involved in them. He stayed back on Brahma and paced around the neighborhood all day and night waiting for Charlie. Again, this mission was a success. It proved that the Constables were not efficiently checking the shuttles like they were supposed to be. It proved that it was possible to get on to New Kinshasa undetected.  SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS. 

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS AGAIN, NEW RECORDING BEGINS. NEW VOICE:  I had to put Baird back to sleep. He wakes up, he lies there, and then he starts weeping. I’m… not built to be a parent. But if I go, if I leave him now, he’ll have no one left. (SIGH) Charlie and Talia’s book club had found a weakness to get to New Kinshasa. On the seventh day, Charlie, his dad Eber, and Talia were going to go up there and were going to scope out the city’s streets. They wanted to make a map and find out where they could get access to the Reactor Core. Camilla wanted to go but Eber reasoned that if all three of them went, who would take care of Evelyn? Josie was the obvious choice but Charlie and I vetoed that. So Camilla stayed.  On the sixth day, the three of them set out for the shuttle. Mrs. Darius had set out laundry to dry in her apartment, Baird was entertaining the twins, and Josie, Camilla, Hank, and I waited around Camilla’s comms for a call from Eber. No news was good news. Night fell. And then the broadcast went out.  Three stowaways on a New Kinshasan Aid Shuttle were found. Two of them had been detained. And the third had run away and was hiding somewhere in the city. Brahma was set into lockdown. We would not be getting any more aid until the last stowaway was caught. The facial recognition scanners had identified the two captives as Eber Spade and Talia Virgo.  We are all holding our breath, wondering and waiting for what comes next.  Baird, if you are listening to this, I am very sorry I took your mother's comms. I know it’s important to you, but you were so upset and angry. I didn’t want you to accidentally damage it and beat yourself up over it later. I’m sorry I can’t bring your parents back, I’m sorry I couldn’t save your dad, and I’m sorry you’re stuck with me. The last thing your dad and I talked about was you. If something happened to him, I would become responsible for your guardianship. If something happened to both of us, the Spade family agreed to take care of you. And then if not us or them, Josie, and if she couldn’t, even old-timer Hank agreed. I am so sorry Baird. This is not the future any of us wanted for you. It’s not the life I would want any person to grow into.  But I made a promise to your father to take care of you. Charlie is aware of that promise, Talia wasn’t. That’s why he got mad you when he found out about your book club. You’re seventeen, and you are old enough to make your own decisions, and I trust most of them that you make. But going off on this mission would have been a death march for you. You don’t know what you’re up against out there. Neither did Charlie but… he’s been tangling with the Constables since your father was taken. Gotta hand it to the kid, he’s pretty damn smart.  I am not an optimist. But I am going to make myself believe. I am choosing to believe that Eber and Talia will be roughed up and sent home under watch. I am choosing to believe that Charlie is safe and will make his way back to us. I am choosing to believe that just this once, it will work out for us.  SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS. 

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS AGAIN. NEXT RECORDING BEGINS. BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY): …They caught him. It took half a week, but they caught him…  After a few days lying around feeling sorry for myself, Iris gave back my mom’s comms, I listened back and… I just didn’t feel like there was anything I could add.  (SIGH) Here is what we now know: Charlie’s dad and Talia were arrested and held in New Kinshasa jail cells for half a week. The Constables found Charlie hiding in a construction zone and arrested him. The New Kinshasan government put out an announcement of a mandatory broadcast in two days. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.  SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS AGAIN. RECORDING BEGINS. (BAIRD SOBBING UNCONTROLLABLY) BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY): It was supposed to be me! It should have been me! IRIS:  Baird! Baird! Give me the comms, I know you don’t want to break it– BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY): Get the fuck out of my face!! I wish my dad never met you! SOUND: FIST PUNCING A FACE. SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS. 

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS AGAIN. RECORDING BEGINS. (IRIS HUFFING) IRIS: I had no choice but to sedate Baird. Baird, I am not sorry. You fucking punched me. I know I’m not your parent dammit, I know the broadcast hurt you, but that was unacceptable! What you did– how you reacted– it… it fucking hurts! (HEAVY SIGH) They released Talia and Eber to go home yesterday. Eber’s hands and feet are bad. And Talia’s face is unrecognizable. There are electrical burn marks all over their bodies. And I don’t think they were given access to any food or water. I’m doing the best I can to treat the worst of it. Eber cried because he can’t hold his wife or baby girl, and the twins are afraid of Talia. Mrs. Darius keeps asking how she can help, but I keep telling her not to worry, and I keep telling Hank to keep her occupied.  The broadcast was today. We all gathered around Camilla’s comms to watch what was going to happen. From the New Kinshasa’s Town Square, a platform was set up, and surrounding it were dozens of Constables. Some of them so small I swear they must be nabbing them from the crib. One of each of the other ranks was present too. Sergeants, Inspectors, Superintendents. Three Constables marched Charlie up onto the platform. Behind them, the Chief walked onto the platform. Every last one of those brats saluted them. They identified the third stowaway, Charlie Spade, and listed off various other offenses he had committed. Bribing a Constable for confectionary sweets. Bribing a Constable for banned literature. Shoplifting from a corner store. Vandalizing New Kinshasan government property. Breaking and entering. All things that we know of. And then they said something strange: they had evidence that Charlie killed a Sergeant.  (LONG PAUSE) The traditional method to get rid of Brahman Vermin, as they said, is to power on the Guardian Angel System and snipe them from up high. The Chief shook their head and said that in extreme cases though, extreme action must also be taken.  The Chief pulled out a blaster, a make and model even old-timer Hank didn’t recognize. They asked Charlie if he had any grievances to air. Anything to get off his chest. I don’t think he knew where the camera was because Charlie kept his gaze fixed down. He looked up and out, and he was looking past New Kinshasa. His eyes were hollow, and his face was gaunt. There must have been a million things running through his mind. But I saw an ounce of clarity in him when he opened up his mouth, and began to sing.  (IRIS TRIES TO SING) O’ my lover once sang to me. How sweet, the bitter tune  you made them plea. My angel, my angel, please let me go,  let me free. My angel, my angel. Please never stop singing for me. (IRIS SNIFFLES) The apartment, the whole block, and all of Brahma were silent. I knew the kid loved Baird. You’d have to be a damn fool not to see it. But that– that cracked him. It cracked wide open an infected wound of a child who already loss both their parents to a pointless war and lost cause. Baird stood up on shaky knees and took one staggering step backwards. At the same time, the Chief nodded, and said it was a beautiful send-off, “All hail, New Kinshasa.” Charlie mouthed something that the camera didn’t catch but Talia mumbled it loud enough for us all to hear, “All hail, a free Brahma.” The Chief raised their blaster to Charlie’s head and at point-blank range, pulled the trigger. He fell instantly. Convulsed on the ground. And then went stock still. I tore myself away from the stream to look at Baird, and there was a scream locked up inside of him.  It’s been five hours. Brahma is under a new surveillance schedule. Our curfew has turned in earlier. And we will only be getting aid once a week now instead of nearly every day.  I know it means very little Baird, but I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.  SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS. 

- … - Baird, 16 (two weeks from 17): Charlie gifted Fahrenheit 451, started “book club” with Talia, got in trouble about it with Charlie and others when found out. Josie had twins, Hank’s dog died, Mrs. Darius accepted her diagnosis.- Baird, 17: Charlie taken, publicly executed.  - Baird, 27: the “decade” recording. - Baird, 14: charlie’s “dad” recording.- Baird, 12: Peter Nureyev threatened the G.A.S., and mom was taken away from their home. - Iris is Baird’s step-parent. They (Iris and Baird) have no one left.  - Frannie says she wants to help me now without pay. I can’t let her do that, but she is insisting that she’ll help recover the rest of the recordings, all I have to do is write a damn article. And with a roughly estimated age range for Baird, Frannie’s contact is going to give a bit of help too. I think I’m going to visit my mom’s grave in the meantime. I need a break.

[wisdomfish]

Do Not Be Discouraged, Jesus Builds His Church

In the late 1800s a Canadian pharmacist, Dr. William Leslie, sensed God calling him to use his medical skills to advance the gospel on the continent of Africa. He set out for the Democratic Republic of the Congo in 1895, joining the missions organization first pioneered by the famed Adoniram Judson in Burma. After a few years, Dr. Leslie met and married another missionary, and together they served in the DRC—offering medical treatment and the gospel.

In 1912, wanting to take the gospel to more remote indigenous people groups, the Leslies began to clear away dense—and reportedly leopard-infested—jungle along the Kwilu River to build the Vanga mission station. Some of the villages surrounding Vanga were still practicing cannibalism at that time. Clearing the jungle took immense effort and some time, but finally the Leslies built a home and a medical outpost along the river. They spent 17 years there, regularly setting out across the river from their station to offer both medical help and the gospel in a spiritually dark place.

It’s not totally clear what happened, but records show that after 17 years Dr. Leslie and his wife were asked by local tribal leaders to leave. There had been some kind of falling out and they were no longer welcome in or around Vanga. The Leslies abandoned their mission outpost and returned to the U.S. defeated—believing they had failed. They weren’t aware of any converts and certainly did not witness the planting of any churches. Dr. Leslie died nine years after his return, thinking his efforts in the DRC were in vain.

We’ll fast forward 100 years from where we left off with his story.

In 2010, a short-term mission team set out for the Vanga mission station. They did a little preliminary research and expected to find the tribal groups near there yet unreached.

They flew into Kinshasa on a commercial airplane. Then they took a Cessna, operated by Mission Aviation Fellowship, two and half hours to Vanga. They hiked a mile through the jungle to the Kwilu River and then used dug-out canoes to cross the half-mile wide river, to finally arrive at the mission station. The team then backpacked 10 miles further into the jungle before coming into contact with the Yansi, the same tribe that the Leslies had ministered to a whole century before.

The team leader from that 2010 expedition reports, “When we got in there, we found a network of reproducing churches throughout the jungle. Each village had its own gospel choir, although they wouldn’t call it that. They wrote their own songs and would have sing-offs from village to village.”

The team found a church in each of the eight villages they visited, scattered across 34 miles. They even found a 1000-seat stone “cathedral” in one of the villages. They were told that church got so crowded in the 1980s – with many walking miles to attend — that a church planting movement began in the surrounding areas.

They did some investigating and interviewing and discovered that the spiritual roots of this network of jungle churches went back to Dr. Leslie and his wife. The Leslies left the mission field dejected and discouraged, believing they had failed. Dr. Leslie died believing his work had been fruitless. But one hundred years later, the evidence says otherwise.

In Vanga and the surrounding villages, Jesus built his church. In spite of these missionaries’ perceived failure, even in spite of rejection and relational fallout, Jesus built his church.

~ Jen Oshman

[awfulwordmonger]

I was fifteen, and the year was 1970. I was traveling with my family, moving from Kabul, Afghanistan to Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of Congo. Not a route traveled by many, especially with two German Shepherds and two Siamese cats, one of whom was very pregnant! We arrived, at night, in Karachi, Pakistan. It was warm and muggy, even in February. We had been traveling all day, with about a ton of luggage and all the pets in separate pet carriers, down in the luggage hold. The cat carriers were not designed to be down there, just cardboard boxes with handles that fit through slots in the two end flaps of the box. The only way to keep the box closed was to hold onto the handles as you lifted the box! I remember the parents being perturbed that PIA wouldn't allow us to keep the cats in the passenger cabin with us.

Karachi Airport, Domestic Terminal - in 1970 it was not, in any way, shape or form, a modern transportation hub! If you've seen many old movies, you've seen the building - one story, 1930's architecture, haphazard layout, large garage doors where the luggage carts roll straight from the ramp into the baggage claim area. A few guards hanging around, mostly disinterested. Benches for the people waiting for luggage, and lots of Pakistanis hanging around to see if they could pick up a few Rupees hauling bags out to the taxi stand.

We were sitting around for about 15 minutes before the bags came in. One separate cart for the two very unhappy dogs in their cages. Lots of noise whenever anyone (except family) got within about 15 feet of them. Then the next luggage cart, with the bags and two cat carriers. Except there was one problem: one of the cat carriers had no cat in it!

Mom was starting to become unglued. Which cat?! if it was the female that was missing, what if she had taken off to start having kittens? If it was the male, then what? Where? How? Lots of questions without answers.

Dad, in his usual fashion, took charge. Where are the men that unloaded the airplane? Show us the baggage compartment! Somehow, on the run, my Dad and I started tracking the cat. Mom and my older brother stayed with the luggage (a really good idea not to leave luggage unattended in that part of the world!) and the pets.

So, here we are, Dad and I, checking out the baggage compartment of a Hawker Siddley Trident, with a few Pakistani bag handlers and maybe one English speaker translating. "Oh yes, Sahib! We saw a cat jump out of the airplane as soon as we opened the hatch! It went that way (pointing to the Terminal we had just come from)! Very, very fast, Sahib!"

Back to the Terminal, asking everyone we saw which way the cat had gone. And slowly but surely we tracked the cat into an area used by the airport security guards as their changing room, complete with showers, etc., and the into the main electrical junction box for the entire airport, located in the back of the shower room!

Someone pointed to the massive door of the junction box. It was hanging open about a foot, prevented from opening further by the myriad wires connecting the switches on the front of the door to the rat's nest of wires within. And there, in the back of the box were the two glowing eyes of our cat, not blinking, not moving, and not perceptibly breathing.

No one wanted to reach into that box. The sign on the door read something like "Caution! 6000 Volts!". Oh, crap. Is the cat alive? We couldn't tell from looking at it. Shouldn't he at least blink once in a while? Shouldn't we be able to see breathing? And finally, shouldn't there be a smell of burned fur if he's dead? No smell, so therefore he must be alive!

By this time, we'd been joined by a higher-up in the airport management. He agreed that yes, we should rescue the cat, but that we should please wait for someone to shut down part of the box first. Okay! and we waited, standing there in the shower room, with guards coming in and out taking their showers, water puddled on the floor, lots of Pakistanis interested in what these crazy Americans were up to. And we waited...

Finally, someone authoritative said that it must be okay now. But who can reach in to grab the cat? Eventually, the adults eyes turned to me. Long. thin arms. Perfect! So, I "volunteered" to do the job. On my hands and knees, I positioned myself so I could reach as far as possible, with one arm (my left, as I recall). Being as careful as I could not to touch any wires, I slowly extended my arm, and finally felt fur. I grabbed the scruff of his neck and started pulling.

There was now no way to avoid all the wires. Still, keeping my arm as straight as I could, I pulled the cat past the wires, and at last, after what seemed like a very long time, I had him! I wrapped both arms around him an hugged him to my chest, thinking he might still be panicked, and start the chase all over again! Thankfully, he seemed content to be in my arms. That made two of us!

A minute or two later, while we were still congratulating ourselves and thanking the Pakistanis, the man who had gone away to get the power shut down returned. He proudly announced, "Just a few more minutes, please. Then it will be safe!"

[beardedmrbean]

Two weeks into a military trial over the killing of more than 50 civilians in eastern DR Congo, the circumstances of how soldiers came to open fire are still unclear.

Who gave the order, at what point and why did Congolese soldiers shoot to prevent an anti-UN protest in the city of Goma are key but as yet unanswered questions.

Witnesses -- some taking the stand with their faces masked by cagoules to hide their identity -- have cast doubt on the official version of events.

In a region long plagued by violence in the volatile east of the Democratic Republic of Congo, the incident has raised tensions.

On August 30, soldiers stopped a religious sect from holding a demonstration against the presence of United Nations peacekeepers in the DRC.

At least 57 people were killed, according to Interior Minister Peter Kazadi.

Less than a week after the crackdown, six soldiers including two officers of the elite Republican Guard went on trial charged with crimes against humanity and violating orders.

Several ministers visited the scene of the killings while the government has promised that justice will be done.

Kazadi, among others, has said the Republican Guard intervened after the lynching of a police officer by members of the religious sect.

Witnesses -- including two army colonels but also sect members and local residents -- however say the operation began before the police officer died.

At least five people were killed in the religious sect's radio premises, but most died in its church, according to witness testimony.

At the time that soldiers were heading towards the church, "the police officer was not yet dead", a military intelligence officer told the court.

A few days after giving his testimony, the witness was in hospital due to a "poisoning", the court heard.

On one point, however, everyone agrees.

Before the shooting began, talks between the army and the sect were under way and progressing calmly.

Four people had been chosen to be the emissaries of a message to be delivered to the UN mission.

In the middle of the negotiations however, soldiers opened fire on unarmed sect members.

It remains to be established whether Mike Mikombe, one of the accused Republican Guard officers who has denied the charges, gave the order to shoot.

And, if he did, whether he was following orders or acted on his own initiative.

He suggested in court that he had been misled by an operational order identifying the sect members as proxies of M23 rebels and the Rwandan army.

The M23 has captured swathes of territory in North Kivu province since 2021 -- one of several militias holding sway over much of the region despite the presence of peacekeepers.

Independent UN experts, the Kinshasa government and several Western nations including the United States and France accuse Rwanda of actively backing the Tutsi-led M23 -- claims that Rwanda denies.

More than 140 civilians including around 30 minors were arrested during the August 30 army operation.

They were accused of participation in an insurrectional movement, conspiracy and murder.

According to one mother, who is still trying to see her 17-year-old son being held in Goma prison, soldiers took him from his home, accusing him of being a rebel.

She has begged authorities to free him so he can go back to school.

The treatment of the victims has also sparked tension.

Families were only able to bury the dead late on Monday after the bodies were left decomposing in a Goma military hospital for 20 days.

Relatives were banned from visiting the morgue to identify their loved ones until September 12.

The trial is due to continue on Wednesday after a two-day break.