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Jumia stock analysis - Africa's unicorn with an SA connection lists on the NYSE
23 April 2019 / US Stocks / Jumia Technologies
Posted by: Sinesipho Maninjwa
On Friday, 12th April 2019, the German founded start-up Jumia Technologies listed on the NYSE after months of speculation. An indicative valuation of US$1 billion earned the company the first unicorn status on the continent. The stock initially floated at US$18.95 but by as of Monday, 22 April 2019 it near doubled to US$33.37 per share. The IPO raised US$196 million, which is fairly impressive for a company that is only seven years old and yet to be operationally profitable.
Jumia was ranked in the top five of start ups on the African continent with success unlike its American counterpart Amazon that struggled to gain significant growth and make inroads on the continent. American press report on the company as the African version of platforms such as Amazon, Hotels.com, Uber, Gilt, and Zillow among others.
What is Jumia?
Jumia is an e-commerce marketplace which offers a broad selection of goods and services to address the everyday needs of consumers. The products and services available on the platform include your being able to buy consumables, order food, book hotels, buy airline tickets, pay utility bills, recharge mobile plans, search for employment and buy cars. The options are so vast there are well over 29.5 million items listed on the platform making Jumia a market leader.
The suppliers of these products and services range from very large corporations to very small retailers. Jumia has successfully managed to build infrastructure that connects buyers and sellers wherein the vast majority don't have access to a bank account. Customers can pay with cash on delivery or using mobile wallets. Its catering to the unbanked is Jumia's unique selling point and advantage over competitors.
Click logo to view Jumia
How did Jumia start?
The company was initially known as Kasuwa (which means 'Market' in Hausa) and founded in 2012 by former McKinsey & Company consultants Sacha Poignomnoc and Jeremy Hodara. Their business was initially funded by Rocket Internet SE, a German venture capital firm, then later telecoms companies MTN and Millicom among others also bought into the founders vision of creating an African version of Amazon.
Jumia was first launched in Nigeria on the back of strong GDP growth figures reported at over 6% at the time. Nigeria was one of the fastest growing economies on the continent with a majority young population having increasing access to the internet and there being a need for more channels to transact. From inception, the company quickly expanded to other countries namely Egypt, Morocco, Ivory Coast, Uganda, and South Africa. The following image shows Jumia's presence on the continent.
Jumia's Continental Presence
Source - PPC Land
A global market overview shows the concept of e-commerce is well developed and more established in major economies around the world. In developing economies such as on the African continent where only a third of the population has access to the internet, e-commerce accounts for less than 2% of all retail sales. According to research firm Statista e-commerce in Africa generated US$12.8 billion in revenue in 2017 and forecasts revenue to reach $32 billion by 2023. This translates to growth of 2.5 times.
Graph 1.
Projected Revenue from E-commerce in Africa Source - Statista
Jumia competitors are large and fragmented groups of online retailers including platforms for traditional brick-and-mortar retailers. On the continent, their competitors include Souq.com in Egypt - affiliated to Amazon; Konga.com in Nigeria; and Takealot &/or Superbalist - both part of the Naspers group in SA. The most potent of new challengers is Facebook, which has created a market place within their platform. Besides these, Amazon or Alibaba pose the greatest threat with their access to larger financial, technological and marketing resources.
How is Jumia doing financially?
Jumia has yet to record a consolidated profit. It reported losses of €165.4 million and €170.4 million in FY2017 and FY2018 respectively to bring total accumulated loss to €862.0 million for the seven year old company. The numbers are typical of tech start-ups whereby scaling up and growing market share is foremost to achieving profitability over the long term. Notably, Jumia saw a 40% rise in revenue on FY2017 and amassed over four million customers by FY2018. Since less than 2% of retail sales are completed online, Jumia has huge upside potential with the increase in smartphone and internet penetration making it feasible for more transactions to come online.
The SA Connection – MTN's involvement in the Jumia success story
The name Jumia means little or nothing to South Africans however the company owns the more familiar Zando.com. A better-known fact is that MTN is one of the founding shareholders in Jumia and as Table 1 shows MTN was the majority shareholder prelisting.
Principle Shareholders with >5% of Jumia Technologies pre-listing
Mobile Telephone Networks Holdings Limited (MTN)
Millicom International Cellular S.A.
AEH New Africa e-commerce I GmbH
Atlas Countries Support S.A.
AXA Africa Holding S.A.S.
Chelsea Wharf Holdings S.à r.l.
Pernod Ricard Deutschland GmbH
Source - US SEC IPO Listing Document
MTN has been lauded for its role in the success of Jumia. Founding shareholders have yet to extract value since investment owing to accumulated losses since inception. Therefore, it was anticipated they would reduce their stake to cash in gains on their investment. However reported correspondence with MTN says it "currently has no plans to dispose of its investment in Jumia in the short term." Their pushing the possible sale out into the medium term allows for Jumia's nascent share price to gain traction without threat of a huge sell off.
MTN's FY2018 report cites a digital inclusion strategy to expand the number of data users on their network and extend financial inclusion through their fintech platform Mobile Money. It would seem MTN and Jumia are set to profit from smartphone and internet penetration.
Click logo to view MTN
What have been some of the success factors for Jumia?
Most significant to Jumia's success is greater access to funding relative to its continental competitors. This has supported their being able to quickly scale up and customise delivery methods given the infrastructural challenges across its markets. For example, Jumia places a greater reliance on motorbikes, engages customers to ensure deliveries reach the correct destination and partners with local logistics companies in areas beyond its reach. Also, there are three times as many people with mobile wallets to those with bank accounts in Africa. Jumia responded by creating payment processes that enable customers to pay cash on delivery and via mobile wallets.
What does the future look like for Jumia?
The listing of Jumia regardless of its current operating losses is a vote of confidence to the 4th Industrial Revolution sweeping across the African continent. Only time will tell if Jumia will grow to become the Amazon or Alibaba of the continent. For now, all eyes are keen to see how the company return profits.
Sinesipho Maninjwa is a CA(SA) and a Financial News Commentator.
She has appeared on various Radio and TV Platforms.
Follow @Synesyfe on Twitter/Instagram


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Make Your Obituary Awesome
What is Burial Insurance?
Flowers and Funerals
Posting obituaries is one of the cremation services offered in Dayton, OH, and you can make sure your obituary is awesome by writing it yourself while you are still alive. Gone are the days when obituaries are written in a cookie-cutter fashion. More people – and their families – are choosing to write their own tributes and testimonies to the lives they lived, in a style that reflects who they were in life.
The obituary of Maria Burgee Dwight, who died in 2019, is a wonderful example: "By day, a barefooted Mimi Dwight sang along to Joni Mitchell as she drove a station wagon full of her five children and a shedding Saint Bernard around the streets of Holyoke, Massachusetts. In the evenings, she met in back rooms to organize for social justice in her community and beyond.
Born and raised in Holyoke, she was the youngest daughter of Henry and Marcelle Burgee. Her adolescence at the Northampton School for Girls earned the comment on her report card that "Mimi is a good student, but she seems inordinately interested in boys." They were interested in back.
At Bryn Mawr College in the early 1950s, she joined her first protest march. Her zeal for social justice led her inadvertently to the field of gerontology, which became her passion and profession.
In Massachusetts, she was known as Mimi Dwight. Under that name, she co-founded the Urban Ministries (a multi-faith coalition dedicated to the participatory government within the inner city of Holyoke); she served on the Commission on the Status of Women, the State Welfare Commission, and the Housing Finance Agency, among others. In the early 1970s, she braved local and state politics to create the nation's first municipal Geriatric Authority, spearheading the successful effort to turn an outdated Municipal Home into a groundbreaking geriatric rehabilitation center. The building was later named in her honor.
Propelled by her interest in the challenges she saw in the field of aging, she enrolled at Hampshire College to finish the bachelor's degree she had postponed in favor of marriage and children. When she learned that Hampshire would not accept any credits from her two years at Bryn Mawr, she resolutely set out to complete her Hampshire degree in one year.
After graduating, she loaded her two youngest into a quirky car and drove cross-country to get a master's degree in Gerontology from the University of Southern California. In Los Angeles, she became Maria Dwight, a single mother raising two boys and beginning a career that would see her rise to become a world-renowned visionary in the field of aging.
She joined Gerontological Planning Associates as vice president in 1975 and in 1982 formed her own company, Gerontological Services Inc. GSI became a national advocate for participatory planning for services and facilities for older adults…
For 30 years, Maria taught at Harvard's Graduate School of Design's summer session; she presented at Harvard's Schools of Medicine and Public Health; at MIT, UMass, Boston University School of Medicine; at California University of San Francisco, Los Angeles, San Diego and Irvine; and her alma mater, the USC School of Gerontology. She testified before the United States House of Representatives Committee on Education and Labor and the United States Senate Committee on Housing and Urban Affairs…
She was an intrepid traveler who migrated with the reindeer in the Arctic and marched with the penguins in the Antarctic (as well as lots of warm and exotic places in between).
Maria's small rented bungalow in Santa Monica was never empty. She fed and mothered a vast extended family of skate rats, actors, hard-core musicians, activists, surfers, students, co-workers, artists, and writers, as well as her own brood. She was equally comfortable with Senators, Governors, and CEOs as with members of the Flesh Eaters, Dream Syndicate, and Sonic Youth. And she was admired and adored by them all…"
For more information about cremation services offered in Dayton, OH, our caring and knowledgeable staff at Glickler Funeral Home & Cremation Service is here to assist you.

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


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Henri Miller practices at the shooting range. His son Gary looks on.
As I start to work on the distribution plans for Justice Is Mind, I am reminded about the similarities between the film and publishing industry when it comes to distribution. Having worked as a magazine publisher for over ten years, I can tell you definitively they have a lot in common. Both have evolved from their standard methods of distribution to include new and exciting revenue generating platforms. For the last several years I've been talking about VOD (Video on Demand) and online streaming as the way to go for independent filmmakers. In fact, I was interviewed about this new method of distribution on New England Film a few years ago. Trust me when I tell you Hulu, Crackle, Amazon, iTunes and YouTube deliver solid revenue to filmmakers. It may not be as sexy as theatrical, but there's real cash in those downloads.
Gary Miller is played by Dmitri Aldershoff the real life son of Vernon Aldershoff who plays Henri Miller.
As publishing has migrated to more of an electronic medium, filmmaking has evolved in the same capacity on both the production and distribution side. Unfortunately, just as I've known way too many publishers that were terrified of this thing called the internet, the same holds true for some filmmakers that believe theatrical distribution is everything and that somehow VOD doesn't validate their work. Of course we all want to see our films in theatres. Who doesn't? But the reality is that, traditionally anyway, theatrical distribution is perhaps the most expensive outlet for film. When you consider the P&A costs alone, a distributor has to make certain that there is a reasonable chance your film will do well enough to justify their investment. But if your film isn't picked up for theatrical, it doesn't mean you can't self distribute. You can simply call up an independent theatre to see if they can screen via DVD and share the gate. Send a few posters for their lobby with social media and public relations support and you may just have a hit that finds its way to traditional pick up by a distributor. My point is that, like publishing, the film industry has evolved and that independent filmmaking is now more approachable than ever. The goal, in my view, is to make your entire package as attractive as possible so when distributors see your work they know you put some time into making it look as sharp as possible.
The new Justice Is Mind website launched this week. Click on the image and check it out.
Prior to operating my own publishing company, I worked at Time magazine and had a mentor that instilled in me the importance of a solid presentation. I worked for a sales representative at the venerable newsweekly for a few years. She handled some pretty major accounts for the magazine and always prepared these wonderful presentations. I'll never forget what she said, "Always have a nice leave behind." Simply, once you leave the room make sure your presentation stands out on its own. I took that axiom to the magazines I published and the films I am now producing. It all comes down to packaging. From the one sheet, website, trailer to the end product – the film. Of course, we are limited by our budgets, but with social media and other online tools why not try your damndest to put your best foot forward? With thousands of films being produced every year, standing out from the crowd is important. Besides, I owe it my investors, cast, crew, sponsors and myself to see that Justice Is Mind is distributed over as many platforms as possible to maximize revenue.
Looking for a great Christmas gift? Buy the short film version Evidence on Amazon.
One trend in film distribution that I love is the Day and Date release. Like Margin Call did, why not have your film screen in select theatres the same day it's available for VOD and DVD? It's a foregone conclusion that consumers want choices in their entertainment experience on how the content is delivered. Who cares what platform it comes in from as long as it winds up in your bank? Remember content is king and the key to more content is someone has to pay for it.
Will Justice Is Mind have its world premiere in a theatre? Naturally, and a day will be set. But while Justice Is Mind is playing in a theatre someone thousands of miles away may have a date with their tablet watching Henri Miller face his own memory at the trial of the century.
This entry was posted on December 1, 2012 by markashtonlund. It was filed under General, Justice is Mind, News and was tagged with distribution, Justice is Mind, theatrical presentations, video on demand.
An fascinating dialogue is worth comment. I believe that it's best to write extra on this topic, it might not be a taboo topic however typically individuals are not enough to talk on such topics. To the next. Cheers


This 4 week course is presented as an ungraded continuing education course from the Rhine Education Center. It will consist of weekly class broadcasts on Monday evenings from 6:30pm - 8:00pm Eastern US Time, along with an interactive discussion forum where students can discuss class topics and intgeract with the course instructor.
This 4-week course will focus on the people who have experienced premonitions and precognition and the researchers who have studied them. Each week will include a live class broadcast, some suggested readings or videos, and a discussion forum on the topic of the week. There will also be a couple of class projects in which you're invited to take part. Topics will include: seeing the future in the distant past; case collections from different eras and different cultures; the experiences of those who seem to have seen the future many times; premonitions of disasters and what they may say about destiny; and what we know about the content of premonitions and precognitive experiences through survey research.


This study focused on estimating the prevalence and evaluating the geospatial distribution of bovine cysticercosis in the state of Mato Grosso, Brazil. To this, we used data of 6,200,497 animals slaughtered during the years of 2013 and 2014, and from 141 municipalities of the state. The prevalence observed for this period was 0.0873% (95% CI 0.0851–0.0897). Regarding the cysticerci detected, the calcified ones were the most frequent (74.43%). The high odds ratios were observed in animals reared in the Administrative Regions of Sinop, Barra do Garças, Água Boa, Cáceres, Barra do Bugres, Cuiabá, Pontes Lacerda, Rondonópolis, Matupa, São Félix do Araguaia and Lucas do Rio Verde, respectively. Furthermore, the results indicate the existence of a relation between the areas with high cysticercosis prevalence and human population density. We highlight the need of the development of a risk model based on the origin to improve cysticercosis detection in endemic areas.
Rossi, Gabriel Augusto Marques et al. Prevalence and geospatial distribution of bovine cysticercosis in the state of Mato Grosso, Brazil. Preventive Veterinary Medicine, v. 130, p. 94-98. Available at: <http://hdl.handle.net/11449/178120>.


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You are here:Buildings
Building the Arcadia Nursery: the client's view
19 June, 2015 By Cliff Barraclough
The client behind the £2.5 million RIBA and RIAS award-winning nursery talks to the AJ about giving freedom to the creative process and being supportive of new ideas
'Fundamental to our approach to the new nursery, was that the building would facilitate the most forward thinking approach to early years education, to ensure that as a University we were prioritising the educational potential for even the youngest in our care.
'An important consideration in letting the design evolve effectively was to allow sufficient time in the programme to ensure a thorough briefing period, with the opportunities to visit other nurseries, learn from their experience of procuring a new facility, and to review contemporary examples of best practice in both the UK and abroad.
'This was important for both the architect and the client to learn what was required, what worked well and to challenge the status quo as to how an early year's environment should be.
'The nursery managers were keen to embrace the 'free-play' concept, which encourages children to make their own decisions about what they would like to do during the day, to nurture their developing independence; within this approach children are also encouraged to spend some time with younger and older children to develop a sense of responsibly and respect towards others. They are also allowed to spend time with their own siblings. This moves away from the situation found in many nurseries where children are restricted to their playroom for the day, with allocated outdoor time more reminiscent of a school environment, rather than a creative, learning-through-play setting.
'To facilitate this, the building's layout allows connectivity between all playrooms and shared areas, but with an ability to close-off and open-up spaces as the staff required throughout the day. Each playroom flows outdoors, with a sheltered in-between space, allowing children to spend as much or as little time outdoors each day as they wish. There are also several shared areas, allowing further diversity from the playroom – a children's kitchen, dining area, art and messy areas and a multi-purpose room for smaller groups. Arcadia has now been in operation since August 2014 and this approach is proving very successful, with parents and staff noting the difference it is making in comparison to the previous setting.
'Central to creating a building as innovative as Arcadia Nursery was putting faith in Malcolm Fraser Architects and the design team to deliver a building that was at the forefront of educational, architectural and structural thinking. The building is constructed entirely from cross-laminated timber, this evolved early in the process as a potential technology to consider as structurally it offered clear roof volumes – facilitating raised mezzanine areas - it was also lightweight and suitable to construct on a tight site surrounded by trees and visually it creates a warm, tactile and welcoming environment ideal for young children. Added to this was a quicker build programme, due to the precision cutting of all elements off site, and numerous sustainability benefits that allowed us to achieve a 100 per cent score in the BREEAM materials and pollution categories.
Construction was challenging on many fronts
'Constructing a building in this manner was challenging on many fronts, as its use has been very limited in Scotland to date, but through much research and discussion the design team were able to establish its absolute suitability for the project and we were supportive in allowing this to develop, realising the benefits it could bring to the project.
'Our advice for other clients commissioning work in this sector would be: allow plenty of time for the brief and design ideas to evolve; question convention at all steps along the way; do not stifle the creative process and be supportive of new ideas; visit other examples (good or bad) because this generates much discussion – particularly when the user client may not be familiar with the process or with reading technical drawings; and create a focused client group to develop the brief who broadly represent the significant elements of the project – in our case education/childcare, operating finances/ business and the building ownership/maintenance aspects of the project.'
Cliff Barraclough is the University of Edinburgh's estates development manager
Malcolm Fraser Architects' Arcadia Nursery for the University of Edinburgh
Client The University of Edinburgh
Contractor Balfour Beatty
Contract value £2.5 million
Gross internal area 832m²
Region Scotland
Kengo Kuma's V&A Dundee features on RIAS Awards shortlist
29 March 2019Fran Williams
Kengo Kuma's V&A Dundee is among the 19 projects in the running for the Royal Incorporation of Architects in Scotland's (RIAS) 2019 awards
Kengo Kuma's V&A Dundee among RIAS Awards winners
31 May 2019Ella Jessel
Kengo Kuma's V&A Dundee is one of ten projects to triumph in the Royal Incorporation of Architects in Scotland's (RIAS) 2019 awards
Haworth Tompkins' Bristol Old Vic revamp is star of 2019 RIBA South West awards
30 May 2019Richard Waite
The 'bold reinvention' of the Bristol Old Vic by 2014 RIBA Stirling Prize winners Haworth Tompkins has been named building of the year in the RIBA South West region
London Eye creator: 'Why I'm supporting Extinction Rebellion'
26 April 2019Will Hurst
Julia Barfield is among the architects backing the radical climate change protest movement as its epic London demonstration takes a pause
Visualizer join Creative In-house team within Award-winning Architecture Studio
Retail Interior Fit-out Designer / Architect for RIBA Award Winning Design Studio
NLA & RIBA Award Winning Studio seeks skilled IT CAD Manager
Senior Project Leader - London RIBA Award Winning Design Studio
RIBA Award Winning Studio seeks Skilled Part II for immediate start
£15-£22 / hr
Housing Project Architect for RIBA Award Winning Design Studio, London
In Buildings


J, a woman in her 40's, had a shoulder that frequently dislocated before she began yoga. I showed her how to do down dog in a way that helped to strengthen and stabilize her shoulder joint and it no longer dislocated.
M, a woman in her 50's was in back pain for 3 weeks after a sledding accident. I showed her one pose to help release the muscles that were in spasm.
G, a woman in her 50's had a lumpectomy for breast cancer, followed by chemo. She saw me the weeks in between her chemo, when her energy was the low.
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I was Furious! In what way does that even relate to Picasso's Life time of working, his education at the Academy of Arts in Madrid and creating a revolutionary art movement of cubism?!? Its an insult to Pablo and all artists, I think.
A lot of people think that the art of Picasso could have been done by a three year old, but, like Stienman in Bioshock, he spent many years following the crowd, learning how to draw before finding a way that projects his feelings best.


This is a picture of Kerrigan, the zerg queen fighting Zeratul the protoss legend.
This is the best Starcraft2 picture ever!
Check out the video game reviews written by ME at my review website (coming out soon.) Here is a sampler.


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Now Tiger wins golf writers award
US golf writers have ignored the 'Tigergate Scandal' and named Tiger Woods as one of three Players of the Year.
The Golf Writers of America have ignored the current 'Tigergate Scandal' and named Tiger Woods along with Jiyai Shin and Loren Roberts as their Players of the Year for 2009.
Voting for the GWAA Awards opened on November 24 and 48.75 percent of the ballots were cast before the news of Woods' automobile accident near his home in Florida broke at about 02h00 (local time) on November 27.
The balloting closed at midnight December 11, the same night Woods announced that he was taking an indefinite leave from the PGA TOUR after admitting "transgressions" that he said were not "true to my values".
It is the 10th time Woods has got the golf writers vote as the top Player on the US PGA Tour, but the award is a first both for South Korean women's star Shin, already named the LPGA Tour's rookie of the year, and US senior golfer Roberts, the Champions Tour stand-out.
All three players will be honored at the GWAA's Annual Awards Dinner in Augusta, Georgia on April 7 next year.
Woods received 84 percent of the vote (168 votes) as against the 10 percent for Steve Stricker (20) and the six percent (13) for PGA Champion YE Yang, the first Asian ever to win a major.
Shin's margin was the narrowest .She received 52 percent of the vote (105) to 42 percent for Ochoa (85) and six percent (11) for Cristie Kerr.
Roberts picked up 55 percent of the vote (111) to 39 percent for Bernhard Langer (78) and five percent for Fred Funk (10).
After undergoing major knee surgery almost immediately after winning the US Open in agony in June 2008, Woods came back to win six times on the PGA TOUR in 2009 and once in Australia. Unusually, he did not add to his majors tally of 14 and continued to need five more to surpass Jack Nicklaus' record 18.
Woods also topped the money list for the ninth time and won his second FedExCup in three years.
Shin, the World No 2 women's golfer, won three times in her rookie year in America in 2009 and just missed out to World No 1 Lorena Ochoa in the race for the LPGA's Player of the Year award.
Shin did top the money list, however, and was second in scoring average.
Roberts won three times, including the Senior Open Championship at Sunningdale, and went on to claim the Charles Schwab Cup for the second time in three years.
He finished second on the money list behind Langer, who won four times.
Players who have been honoured by the GWAA since 2000:
2000 Tiger Woods; Karrie Webb; Larry Nelson
2001 Tiger Woods; Annika Sorenstam; Allen Doyle
2002 Tiger Woods; Annika Sorenstam; Hale Irwin
2003 Tiger Woods; Annika Sorenstam; Tom Watson
2004 Vijay Singh; Annika Sorenstam; Craig Stadler
2005 Tiger Woods; Annika Sorenstam; Dana Quigley
2006 Tiger Woods; Lorena Ochoa; Jay Haas
2008 Padraig Harrington; Lorena Ochoa; Jay Haas
2009 Tiger Woods; Jiyai Shin; Loren Roberts
Tiger Woods set for return to competitive golf at PNC Championship
The 15-time major winner is back after injury.
Thorbjorn Olesen cleared of sexual assault and now 'wants to focus on golf'
Olesen wept in court after he was found not guilty.


I use NordVPN and am able to access live BBC without any problem.
I use it on my phone and PC. Sorry, but no idea how to set it up on a TV. Nordvpn has excellent support so I suggest you drop them a line and request some help.
You may also want to think about setting it up on your router.


Sheriff Scott Bradley (49 years old).
Born to Charlie and Karen Bradley of Shirley on May 29th, 1967 in Little Rock, Arkansas.
Sheriff Bradley has been a resident of Van Buren County his whole life.
Sheriff Bradley is married to Kimberly (Coleman) Bradley and has been married since 1991.
Sheriff Bradley and Kim have 4 children: Brandy Cullum, Gwendlyn Bradley, Derek Bradley, and Ali Bradley.
Sheriff Bradley graduated from Shirley High School.
Sheriff Bradley was a former Shirley School Board member.
Sheriff Bradley started his law enforcement career in 1996 in Van Buren County and took office as Sheriff of Van Buren County in 2003.
Sheriff Bradley attended the Arkansas Law Enforcement Training Academy 97A in 1997 in Camden, Arkansas.
During Sheriff Bradley's law enforcement career, he has worked as a deputy, investigator, 16th Judicial District Drug Task Force Officer, and currently Sheriff.
Sheriff Bradley was appointed by the Governor of Arkansas to the Arkansas State Bail Bonding Board.
Sheriff Bradley has served on the board and as the President of the Arkansas Sheriffs' Association.


Atticus. Harper Lee's classic novel To Kill a. To Kill A Mockingbird Thesis Statement In the year where racism is still prevalent even though it had ended it didn't stop people from hating each o Thesis statement on prejudice in to kill a mockingbird – posted in Гостиницы, отели, хостелы Западной Европы. Отзывы и. Free coursework on The Effects Of Prejudice In To Kill A Mockingbird from Essay.uk.com, the UK essays company for essay, dissertation and coursework writing. In the kill, Boo Radley is a mockingbird of prejudice. Not what you're looking for? to kill a mockingbird essay To kill a mockingbird how to write code in python 3.6 atticus thesis statement. To Kill A Mockingbird Thesis Statement On Racism. there are other types of prejudice and discrimination that typify relationships among the novel 39;. Thesis statement to kill a mockingbird prejudice – Research paper questions to answer. Professional essay and resume writing services offering expertise in writing.


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Football races past Notre Dame behind Costello's 4 touchdowns
King Jemison
By: King Jemison | Staff Writer
No. 20 Stanford (9-3, 7-2 Pac-12) turned a close game into a dominant 38-20 home victory over No. 9 Notre Dame (9-3) with a wave of fourth-quarter momentum, outscoring the Irish 21-0 in the final period of play. The Cardinal defense came up with three turnovers in the final quarter alone. Sophomore quarterback KJ Costello led the Stanford offense with four touchdown passes.
Though Stanford was clearly focused on Notre Dame, the team also had its eye on another game happening at the same time in Seattle. Thanks to Washington's commanding 41-14 win over rival Washington State in the Apple Cup, Stanford won the Pac-12 North division and will play No. 11 USC in the Pac-12 Championship on Friday night.
"This Notre Dame team is so dangerous; we were focused completely on this game," Stanford head coach David Shaw said after the game. "There was nothing we could do about what was happening in the Apple Cup. It was nice they announced the score a couple of times. People cheered, so I guess that Washington was ahead."
Costello obviously had his mind on beating the Irish from the outset. He was 14-of-22 for 176 yards, but it was his clutch throws in scoring situations that drove the Cardinal offense forward. His first touchdown was a 29-yard strike to junior wide receiver Trenton Irwin over the middle that tied the game at 7-7 in the first quarter. At one point in the fourth quarter, he threw for a touchdown on consecutive passes, first from 19 yards out to sophomore tight end Kaden Smith and then from 12 yards out on a throwback play to senior tight end Dalton Schultz. Costello became the first Stanford quarterback to throw for four touchdowns since Kevin Hogan in 2015, also against Notre Dame at home.
"We put a lot on his shoulders this game," Shaw said about Costello's performance. "At the line of scrimmage, had to pick the right play, step up in the pocket, make successful big-time throws. He did that tonight."
Neither team had committed a turnover until sophomore linebacker Curtis Robinson stepped in front of a pass by Notre Dame quarterback Brandon Wimbush early in the fourth quarter. After Robinson returned the interception six yards, the Cardinal offense set up shop at the Notre Dame 29-yard line and scored three plays later to increase its lead to 31-20.
On the ensuing kickoff return, Notre Dame turned the ball over again. A big hit from sophomore linebacker Jordan Fox jarred the ball loose from Irish returner C.J. Sanders, and sophomore cornerback Malik Antoine jumped on the fumble at the Notre Dame 18-yard line. Four plays later, Stanford was in the end zone again to make it 38-20. This last touchdown was the third in less than four minutes for the Cardinal, and in that time they turned a 20-17 deficit entering the fourth quarter into a comfortable 18-point lead with 10:10 remaining in the game. With 5:15 to go, junior safety Frank Buncom essentially sealed the win for Stanford by picking off Wimbush in the Cardinal end zone.
Stanford's defense largely stymied the Notre Dame offense, particularly its potent run game. The Cardinal held star Irish running back Josh Adams to just 49 yards on 20 carries. The junior leads the nation with seven runs of over 60 yards, but his longest of the night against Stanford went for just seven yards.
"We had to come downhill and be physical," senior linebacker Bobby Okereke said about containing Adams. "D-line played great for us, so it was a good game."
Notre Dame did manage to hit two big plays in the pass game that provided most of its offense for the night. The Irish opened up the scoring with an 83-yard touchdown strike from Wimbush to a wide-open Kevin Stepherson. Then on the first play of the second half, Wimbush hit talented wide receiver Equanimeous St. Brown on a short pass before St. Brown turned on the jets and scored from 75 yards out.
Shaw said he was pleased with how his team responded to giving up the two big plays.
"Our guys are great at bouncing back, obviously," Shaw said. "Great at trusting our scheme and trusting each other and playing hard, knowing that we're going to have a chance to get that back."
The three fourth-quarter turnovers went a long ways towards making up for the big plays, as did holding the Irish to 3.5 rushing yards per attempt. Stanford also came up with six sacks on Wimbush, including two from All-American candidate senior defensive tackle Harrison Phillips.
"We just stuck to our game plan really well," Phillips said about the defensive performance. "We came out stopping the run. Our physicality is tough to match."
Phillips had six tackles and three total tackles-for-loss in the game. He leads the team with seven sacks and 16-and-a-half TFLs on the season. Okereke and junior safety Justin Reid led the team in tackles against Notre Dame with nine each. Reid finished the regular season with a team-high of 88 stops.
The biggest star of the season for Stanford once again had a major impact despite continuing to battle through a left ankle injury. Junior running back Bryce Love had 125 yards on 20 carries, including a long run of 31 yards. In the second half, he averaged 9.4 yards per carry after being held to 3.1 in the first half. He said that after halftime he started to feel stronger running on the hurt ankle, similar to previous games.
"I start feeling a little bit better, moving a little bit better," Love said. "It's just one of those things: The more you do, the better you feel."
Love finished the regular season with 1848 rushing yards on 8.6 yards per carry, both second in the FBS. He is a finalist for the Doak Walker award, given to the nation's best running back, and is considered one of the primary Heisman candidates despite missing one game with injury and being significantly hampered in his last four contests.
"You run out of words for what Bryce Love is," Shaw said. "He has been in pain for over a month. His pain tolerance — it's unbelievable. He just loves to play. He loves his teammates. If he can be out there, he wants to be out there. It's awesome."
It was a fitting end to a fantastic regular season for Love. His team also had a fitting end to their season of incredible play at home. The Cardinal finished 6-0 inside Stanford Stadium this year, including two wins over Top-10 opponents.
Stanford has beaten six straight Top-10 teams at home, the longest such streak in the country.
"The team, especially Coach Shaw, challenges us every year to protect our house," Love said about the undefeated record at home. "That's just a trademark of good teams: being able to protect your home field."
"We love our fans. They're not necessarily the rowdiest, but they're great fans, and they're loyal fans," Stanford fifth-year linebacker Peter Kalambayi added. "We love playing here, and we understand what we're gonna get, and other teams that come here don't really know what they're gonna get. It really plays to our advantage."
This last home win was extra special for the Cardinal seniors, as they were honored before playing their final game inside Stanford Stadium.
"It was an emotional day in general," Kalambayi said about Senior Night. "I just wanted to take everything in, take in the atmosphere all day. Looking around in pregame warmups, I was like, 'This is really it. We have to make it special,' and I think we did."
Though this was certainly their last game in Stanford Stadium, it will not be their last game in the Bay Area for the Stanford seniors. Next Friday's matchup with USC will be played in Levi's Stadium, the home of the San Francisco 49ers, in nearby Santa Clara. The Cardinal will get another shot at their rival from Los Angeles after losing to the Trojans 42-24 on Sept. 9. Stanford players said the potential rematch has been a topic of conversation since that early loss.
"I remember after the first time we played them, Dalton Schultz grabbed the whole team and said, 'We're gonna play these guys again,'" Kalambayi said. "I don't know if everyone believed that. I know a lot of guys believed that; I believed that. It happened, so that's cool."
The game on Friday is at 5 p.m. and will be televised by ESPN. The winner will likely advance to play in the Fiesta Bowl, one of the most prestigious postseason games.
"Sounds like a dream," Okereke said about the chance to play USC again.
If Stanford plays like they did on Saturday, it should be a much happier dream this time around.
Contact King Jemison at kingj 'at' stanford.edu.
Bobby Okereke brandon wimbush bryce love Curtis Robinson Dalton Schultz David Shaw Doak Walker Equanimeous St. Brown Harrison Phillips josh adams Kevin Stepherson Malik Antoine Notre Dame Notre Dame football Pac-12 Championship game Peter Kalambayi Stanford football	2017-11-27
Tagged with: Bobby Okereke brandon wimbush bryce love Curtis Robinson Dalton Schultz David Shaw Doak Walker Equanimeous St. Brown Harrison Phillips josh adams Kevin Stepherson Malik Antoine Notre Dame Notre Dame football Pac-12 Championship game Peter Kalambayi Stanford football
By the numbers: 2017-18 Stanford Cardinal
Rice 7, No. 14 Stanford 62
@ #6 USC
No. 14 Stanford 24, No. 6 USC 42
@ San Diego State
No. 19 Stanford 17, San Diego State 20
UCLA 34, Stanford 58
Arizona State 24, Stanford 34
@ #20 Utah
Stanford 23, No. 20 Utah 20
Oregon 7, No. 23 Stanford 49
@ Oregon State
10/26/17 (Thu.)
No. 20 Stanford 15, Oregon State 14
@ #25 Washington State
No. 18 Stanford 21, No. 25 Washington State 24
#9 Washington
11/10/17 (Fri.)
No. 9 Washington 22, Stanford 30
California 14, No. 20 Stanford 17
No. 9 Notre Dame 20, No. 20 Stanford 38
#11 USC
2017 Pac-12 Championship Game
No. 14 Stanford 28, No. 11 USC 31
#13 TCU
2017 Valero Alamo Bowl
Click to learn more about The Daily's Stanford football book!


This is going to be another day of your wondering just what we were doing in the US. Running around filming demos in pretty places, certainly, but surely there's more to it than that? There is, but… well, I'm not going to reveal everything just yet. Partly because I've only just finished logging all the shots, so it'll be a while before we know what's made the cut and what hasn't. But also because I don't want to spill the beans about the main story and content of the film until we're much closer to publication. And that's likely a few months away.
So enjoy the holiday snaps, and watch out for clues peppered through.
I remembered two things from the previous day: we did a bunch of props shopping in the morning, and I found out what 'Chicken Fried Steak' is. On reflection I could happily have seen out my days without such knowledge.
Alom leans on the car to explain our route across the US.


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Commissioner Moedas has been something of a champion of science diplomacy, in that he believes that investing in science and research as a way of creating unity is on a par with the overall aim of intellectual and economic progress.
And he's not wrong. I was EU Ambassador in Egypt during the difficult years following the 2011 revolution there, when the EU found itself on the volatile political fault line in the Arab world that divides the secular from the religious.
When storms raged, with each side accusing us of favouring the other, I was able to cite the many Framework Programme 7 and Horizon 2020 programmes - which carried on largely untouched - as proof that whatever the weather, we could continue to work together for the greater good.
And when it comes to international cooperation believe me, there is no greater challenge than the conflict-ridden Middle East. With apologies to Frank Sinatra, if you can make it there, you can make it anywhere.
But it can be done: listening to Gihan Kahlil, director of the SESAME synchrotron at last month's Biovision conference in Alexandria, I was reminded of one of the best examples of Moedas' notion of science for unity: Kahlil's particle accelerator in Jordan, funded by the EU among others, manages to survive and prosper despite including Saudi Arabia and Iran among its participants, two countries that in just about every other domain are at each other's throats.
And if ever a diplomatic back channel could be opened to help bring about reconciliation between Riyadh and Tehran, SESAME would surely be a prime candidate as a location for it.
Horizon 2020 includes a number of projects that delve into ways and means of advancing techniques and practice of science diplomacy, and that is to be applauded.
The problem is that, as with a number of other projects in other areas of the programme, there is a tendency for the researchers involved to prioritise academic rather than practical objectives, as they look to further their own careers through publishing in journals and presenting to their peers at conferences.
If they are to have any impact, it is imperative that the reports are written and presented in a form that can be used not only by fellow 'experts' but also by the often uninitiated policy and decision makers who they presumably seek to influence.
With all due respect to academic standards, that means spending quality time on producing summaries of the research that can be digested by busy officials, businesspeople and yes, politicians - at least those who still believe in expertise - who have neither the time nor the inclination to count all the angels on the pinhead.
Part of the problem lies with those who manage the Horizon 2020 programme, in that terms of reference often fail to set out clear guidelines on the labelling of the product and the expected consumers.
But as a non-scientist myself who has been one of those decision makers, and who has struggled through complex papers trying to tease out the practical recommendations on how to advance the good cause of using science as a diplomatic tool, I would make a simple plea to administrators and researchers everywhere who are involved: think of your audience.
James Moran is associate senior research fellow at the Centre for European Studies. He is former EU ambassador to Egypt, head of mission to Jordan and Yemen, and Asia director for the European External Action Service.


Back in 2016, we conducted a review on Google Allo, the search engine's instant messaging app. Unfortunately, it seems that Google has made the decision to bring down its shutters on the app.
Google reportedly admitted that one of the reasons behind the app's closure is due to lackluster support and fanfare. At its height, the app had the attention of less than 50 million users. Less than half of Telegram's user count, and merely a fraction WhatsApp's more than one billion users.
The shutdown of Allo also comes the search engines shifts its focus on Rich Communications Services (RCS) messaging. Compared to Allo, RCS is poised to replace the traditional SMS system on Android devices. It also comes with several features including read receipts, file sharing, group messages, and typing indicators.
Additionally, Google will also be replacing the classic version of Hangouts. Moving all existing users over to Hangouts Chat and the video conferencing app Hangouts Meet.


text:
Trapped behind the curtain
Uneasy with the intolerance toward my sexual orientation, I lay low. It took me years to finally break free.
De Laurențiu Olteanu
Illustrations by Ioana Șopov
I first heard my folks talking about freedom in 1990. It was not the twisted freedom of patriotic poetry or that of the uncertain past revered in history textbooks. It was our freedom and that made it real. For freedom, my dad left in the middle of the night to go to University Square and came home two days later, his face pale and eyes filled with tears. It was freedom that made my mom hug strangers on the street and shout out: "Ceaușescu has fled!" On TV, some people looked scared and claimed we wouldn't know what to do with all that newfound freedom. But for a while, my folks leaped with joy.
My life, too, was in transition. I was 11 and felt I was starting to leave childhood behind. Suddenly I was among the tallest boys in my class, my arms had become upsettingly long and I didn't know what to do with them. A dark shadow had grown above my upper lip, my face was blotched with painful craters, and my voice would break in incontrollable dissonances. Even more unsettling transitions were going on inside me, as I found the same exterior clues when studying the appearance of boys my age and that stirred in me emotions and feelings I couldn't understand. I had started looking at them differently; I was fascinated by their agility and stubbornness, their outright determination to impress girls. I longed for a friend, but the admiration hidden behind this longing – which I considered unnatural – made me distance myself from them and get closer to girls. I didn't have to hide my affection when I was with the neighborhood girls: we'd sing together, make up wacky games and, occasionally, I'd listen to their little confessions. I understood perfectly that Radu had the most beautiful blue eyes, that Tudor had a sweet laugh and Vlad was intelligent and sensitive.
But when alone, I tried to analyze my strange traits. I wondered why my behavior was different from that of other boys. Were others seeing these insinuating differences, too? They must have, otherwise they wouldn't have called me a "sissy" because I played with girls and was scared of football. Then, in the schoolyard, I found out what "homosexual" meant, along with its entire name-calling spectrum. I understood from my classmates' conversations that nothing was more revolting and disgusting than sex between two men. Homosexuals were sick degenerates with nothing but sex on their minds. Although I didn't really see the connection between how I felt and the sexual act described by the kids my age in vulgar terms, I did have, for the first time, a possible explanation. If there was a word to describe such people, that meant I wasn't alone.
My parents almost never touched on the subject. It was one of those so-called obscene things you don't talk to your parents about and I didn't know how to trigger such a conversation. If by chance the subject was brought about by a movie or in some random conversation, they'd just say:
"Oh, so he's one of those."
"Of what?" I tried pushing the envelope but my question seemed to upset them.
"You know, one of those, I don't know why you're asking such questions."
When I was about 12, my dad gave me a hardcover edition of the Greek Mythology Legends. There were pictures at the end of the book representing ancient gods, including one of Apollo with a perfect body, completely naked. I circled Apollo's crotch with a pencil and went to my dad so we could read together. When we got to that page dad remained speechless for a few seconds and then closed the book. He then gave me a whole righteous speech about the importance of books and I realized I had made a mistake. He asked me a few dozen times "Why did you do that?" but no matter how much I wanted to explain myself, I was afraid of his menacing eyes and couldn't find my words. A whole bunch of words kept stupidly ringing in my head. Homosexual. Faggot. Pansy. Fairy. Why did I ever imagine any explanation could have come from him?
Every now and then I would try to get close to some boy my age. I'd forget all about my girl friends in the neighborhood, I'd go over to my new friend's house and we'd listen to tapes, do our homework together or draw the most powerful robot. Sometimes I'd even gather up enough guts to get close to the football. I thought my dad would be proud of me and everything was fine for a while.
But I wasn't the only one getting curious about the mysteries of sex; my friends had their curiosities and instincts, too: Bogdan wanted us to watch his father's porn videos, Nicu wanted us to measure our trouser snakes, and Vlad would tell me in obscene detail what he'd do to Maria if she'd let him touch her as he wished. All this sex talk made me feel uncomfortable. I felt provoked in a strange way and I'd return to the girls, who welcomed me back cheerfully, no questions asked. With them, I could still be a kid. I was their old friend and they didn't seem to suspect anything.
The signs were, by now, too many and I risked exposure: I hated football, I had too many girl friends, I was a dreamer and maybe a bit over-sensitive. I feared that even my good grades could give me away. I spent a lot of time checking myself in the mirror, making sure nothing showed. I had flat feet and I had to wear glasses, too. But it felt as if this was just the beginning. I would study my moves and my walk, I'd be careful to sit just in certain positions. I did all that without analyzing the reason behind my new obsession. It was just something that was part of me, a facet of my personality that I never had to show to anyone, under any circumstances. Although I wasn't exactly sure what I was trying to hide, I was ever more convinced that my weirdness, if I was ever going to figure it out, would explain things that I otherwise couldn't understand. Dad always seemed unhappy with the life he led with us, and mom would shed tears when she hugged me. They fought all the time – either for reasons I didn't know, or because of me. Then dad left for Italy. Over the past years we had been strangers living in the same apartment, so the new arrangement was a relief.
During the last two years of middle school my hidden desires turned into sexual fantasies I considered shameful. Filled with remorse, I tried to understand how powerful these desires were. Were they something I had invented out of boredom? Was my imagination too wild? I wondered if there was some chance that I was a homosexual just because I had heard people talking about it. I used to do a quick test at the bus stop. I would seek out what was generally considered a beautiful person, man or woman, and ask myself: "What am I feeling now?" I was trying to identify my sexual impulses and would ask myself quickly, leaving no room for hesitation: "Am I really a fag?"
The perfect case was when I'd lay eyes on a couple of lovebirds because that's when I had the possibility of direct comparison. "Which one do I like best? What's sexier: her legs or his arms?" As it were, I had to deny myself an answer many times. What was, in the end, the difference between beauty and sensuality? What was I supposed to be looking for? I would tell myself: "They're both cute and seem to be getting along just fine." But other times I'd be taken aback by the way his lips twined when he spoke; his movements seemed so firm and precise and it was so easy for that boy at the bus stop to have the world wrapped around his finger. Upset, I'd go back home, and promise to do better on the quick test the next time.
In 1993, I started high school. It was around that same time my parents decided the only way to save their marriage was for mom to go to Italy, too. I was left home with my grandma. The fact that no one knew about my inner turmoil made me feel lonelier than I already was. Stunned, I realized I had the freedom every kid my age longed for, but no idea what to do with it. I got closer to two old friends in my neighborhood, attracted by their rebellious spirit. I wanted to rebel, to be able to say something out loud. She was the first girl I ever kissed and he was the first boy I fell completely in love with. We spent those summer evenings at her place (her folks left town a lot) or in parks, listening to The Doors and getting drunk on cheap booze. "Come on baby light my fire", Jim Morrison sang. An erotic movie from the '70s was on TV, complimenting the music, while he was playing around with the bulge in his pants, shooting aroused glances at her, then at me. The cloud of alcohol hanging over our minds made everything seem possible. I tried to tell them. "There's something wrong with me and I want you to know it." As soon as I heard the sound of my own voice, I regretted it. I remembered all the bullying in the schoolyard and got scared. Just a few days before, we had been discussing Jim's loathing of homosexuals. They looked at me all wide-eyed and I had to lie to them. "I think I like drinking a little too much." We all laughed.
The next night, we'd had too much to drink again, and I was lying face down on the couch, drenched in cold sweat and shivering. He lay on top of me, gripped me in his arms, then held my face between his hands. "If you're a fag, I'm going to kill you with my bare hands, put you out of your misery. That's a promise." The weight of his body and his hot lips pressed against my ear had just confirmed it. I was a fag and I loved my misery. I wished he'd had his way with me, right then and there. The next day, I decided to give up my new friends, all the rebelliousness and the alcohol, but I kept Jim's music.
The circles of friends from middle school and the neighborhood broke apart and a new challenge ensued: high school. I had learned from the past, I was more confident in my ability to play a role; I wanted to fit in at any cost, be a normal young man. I had taken all those uncomfortable things that adolescence had brought into my life and locked them in a secret closet, hoping they would eventually vanish. I started grasping the game behind social relationships, figuring out its rules and predicting behaviors. I used all this new information to build an image for myself: I was the smart guy, a bit secretive with his own thoughts, but ready to listen to friends' troubles and offer a word of advice. I was the one in the middle of the dance floor at school dances, the one who'd burst out laughing at the theater startling the entire audience, the one who'd start singing loudly in the street. I was either calm and ironic, or eccentric and noisy, predicting what people around me wanted me to be.
Like any teenager, I'd gained a sense of pride and being humiliated for the feelings I had towards my fellow mates was a recurring nightmare. The cruel jokes from the schoolyard had turned into observations that took on a feigned tone of indifference. "I think your buddy's gay," a guy told one of my girl friends. We were at a party where, luckily, I didn't know that many people. I caught his scornful smile. "Look at him, he's a ladyboy." I laughed as if amused as everyone stared at me. "You're being mean," my friend said, and that hurt me even more. I didn't need protection; I needed a voice to firmly deny what had been said about me. "I'm not being mean at all. I've spent a year in the States and I've seen his kind. I'm telling you, he's a fag."
I left without saying a word.
Around tenth grade, my classmates were giving in to prodigious love stories, spoke passionately of consuming desires, and the group I was in was seeing its first relationships take shape and its first dramas unfold. I wanted an affair that would bring me in line with my friends, I wanted to spend the night talking on the phone, skipping school and having dates in the nearby park or at the coffee place across the road from my high school. Everyone else seemed to be fooled by my pretentious, witty boy attitude, alas convincing myself was not that easy a task. But I wasn't about to give up – I was determined to prove to myself that I could do it. The determination to belong gave me the power to fight. Just as others had learned to write with their left hand, I would have to learn to love a woman.
I was 15 when she came back into my life. I'd known her since we were kids and played together in the little park outside my building. She had slightly almond-shaped eyes, a heart-shaped mouth, and probably the most beautiful breasts in the world. She read incredibly fast and memorized unimaginable quantities of information. In her summer dresses, I sometimes wondered whether she was a butterfly or a goddess. We decided to go to the seaside together and, after the timid attempts of the first days, on the fourth night we danced, drank wine, and then kissed – once, and then again. The next day I awoke with her in my arms and felt I could belong to her.
It was fine in the beginning. I had a beautiful, intelligent girlfriend, I was loved and that boosted to my confidence. The worst was behind me and I was thinking I would gradually come around. I loved her, and how could it have been different, for she was the solid proof of my normalicy? There was that sweet intimacy I had never had with anyone and the passionate sex that would put an end to spurs of teenage angst. Then there was her stubbornness to provoke me and the tenderness with which she sought my protection. Not least, she was my best friend and, except for my fascination and hidden sexual yearnings, she knew everything about me.
I felt good around my friends; I was finally one of them. Freed from the fear of being uncovered, I managed to build more lasting relationships with guys of my age. We went out together with our friends, we took road trips. Everywhere, the two of us were the eternal lovers, always holding hands, always with a kind word and a caress for the other. I wanted to give her all the affection she wanted: it was my way of saying thank you, as well as of chasing away the obsessions and torments that consumed me.
High school years went by and I went to college. My parents decided to split up but that was not unexpected: mom came back to the country while dad, whom I hadn't seen in years, stayed in Rome. I saw my girlfriend every day and, even though we rarely spoke about them, our plans for the future were pretty much laid out and quite clear to us and everyone around. We were the high school sweethearts bound to get married a year or two after finishing college. She dreamed of the perfect wedding and the dream house. I wanted a beautiful daughter who would look like her and a son I would name after that boy with sensual lips, my first love. Just as I had wished when I was 14, I was now moving along a path that comfortably sealed my normalcy.
But when alone, I was disappointed to find my sexual orientation had not changed. The look, the voice, the body of a man – they could still stir something in me in a way she never could. I wasn't blind, I understood how special her delicate beauty was and how sweet her tenderness, but my sexual desires took a different road. I would cry when alone and ask myself why I was unable to love her all the way. Why did those foul obsessions keep popping into my head, why did I imagine myself kissing a man, why did I long to see his naked body, to touch him? I would wipe away my tears and tell myself I needed to stop with this despair. There was a whole world waiting for me out there, and above all, there was her. Other times I'd play with the idea of a sexual affair with a man, although I had no clue where or how I could meet someone. It could have been a sure way to understand what I was up against, I remember thinking. But I couldn't bear the thought for more than a few minutes: I could never do this to her, I would be a monster. I felt guilty for the crooked way in which I was trying to justify a potential surrender. I was weak.
After five years, I felt I couldn't take it anymore and all that inner turmoil had to stop. We broke up for a few months, during which time I wanted to be the jealous ex-boyfriend, even though I wasn't.
Loneliness was excruciating because I wasn't ready to deal with my sexuality; my struggle intensified and was eating me up inside. I wasn't going to confide in anyone – I was convinced that hiding was the best option. I had heard of men meeting up for sex in the park near the Opera House or in the public toilets below University Square. So that's what being gay was all about – writing lewd messages on bathroom walls and screwing complete strangers in parks. That was not the fate I was willing to accept for myself. So I called her in the spur of a moment.
A few days later, we were at the seaside again. History repeated itself and we got back together. When we retuned, I dropped her off outside her building and rushed home. I locked myself in my room and picked up the phone. I was going to tell her it had all been a mistake. I never dialed the number. Instead, I listened to the phone beep for minutes on end.
Nothing was ever the same. I started playing my role mechanically. We'd see each other less because her mother didn't approve of our relationship and she didn't have the guts to stand up to her. Sex, too, was monotonous and occurred a lot less. I think she was beginning to understand too, not necessarily my sexual orientation, but the fact that her feelings weren't reciprocated. Her suspicions had a layer she didn't understand and that made her insecure, always seeking confirmation while I wondered uselessly why she was so mad. She wanted the certainty of a future and a family with me, while in my mind, I defended that I was giving her everything I could. I think I wasn't paying attention to her suffering because I was too afraid of my own failure. It is so that we began the seventh year of our relationship.
I was 22 when the death of my grandmother on my mother's side made me see the foolishness of the bet I had made with myself. When factored into the equation of life, death shifts perspectives. My grandmother had taken her own life and this severed all ties I would have with my mother for a long time; there was too much blame and too many reprimands on both sides. If I could, I would have erased all the past I knew.
I moved out to live alone. I could have lived with my girlfriend but I was seeking solitude and cherished it; I wanted to escape my own life through a side door. I looked in the mirror and saw a stranger, I told myself I needed to break free and give myself a chance to be happy. The shadows of death had made me realize I wanted more from life than just being the winner of a game of deceit. For the first time, I realized how important it was to be where you wanted to be, with that certain someone you could feel at home with. With him, the one I hadn't yet met, but whom I wanted to try and find.
Then I thought of my girlfriend, that girl who was once a child like me. Time wasn't standing still for her either. Those seven wasted years of her life were now a huge burden on me. Our meetings had become painful: she was no longer my lover, she was my private casualty.
I never confessed anything to her and never asked for forgiveness. I only told her our relationship couldn't go on anymore. Uncaring, I convinced myself this was the best for her: a quick break-up, no explanations. We met up for coffee a few months later. The conversation was strenuous amid uncertain looks and unuttered thoughts. We wore the masks of ex-lovers happily continuing on their own paths. We parted as if we were two friends who would meet again in a few days. We haven't seen each other since. I wrote her a few lines a couple of years later, but I never sent them:
"I've forgotten the sparkle in your eyes when they met mine; I've forgotten how you used to cuddle with me and how I was your knight in shining armor. I've also forgotten the passion of our first night together and the ecstasy of those that followed. How familiar your voice sounded and how I longed to see your face. I've forgotten how I became a man. I don't remember the sheer joy of unsaid words and tender touches. You've become a shadow cast in an emptied corner of my soul and I've forgotten you for fear of your memory. I've forgotten you and, most importantly, I forgot to say I'm sorry."
You learn to live behind the curtain. People see you as deviant, though no certain diagnosis is offered: is it your soul or your mind? Is the anomaly hidden somewhere inside you, in your blood, your tissue, your bones – or is it all about social circumstance and the family environment you grew up in? When you're hiding from those around you, you're also hiding from yourself. You're not a friend, you're not a son, you're not a colleague. You feel you're just an illusion, a shadow of what you could have been had you been free to show yourself to the world.
In the winter of 2001 I was living alone in a studio flat and took the subway to work, to the headquarters of the insurance company where I started working after graduation. In the evening, I would go to the internet café around the corner from my building and log pnto #gaybucuresti, the chat room used at that time as the main communication channel by the gay community. I wouldn't go on any dates at first; I was just joining in the conversation, hence being called a teaser. But in reality, at just 22, I was scared of my lack of experience with men. During the chat room searches I'd swing from trying to find the love of my life, to a one-night stand, and thus found pretexts to avoid any date. Slowly I overcame my shyness and realized I was raising false issues. I did want to meet people like me. I'd go out at night with friends and sometime after midnight I'd get a message and excuse myself, saying I had to go on a date. Any questions were blocked by my dumb, mysterious pretence of a smile.
I can't say I had friends in the gay community; perhaps a few acquaintances I saw now and then. Still, it was a step forward – now there were people who knew I was gay. In the six months since my first date the scenario repeated itself a few times: an interesting conversation in the chat room, a meeting with a guy over a coffee, then a more or less hot night together. Everything would be over, if not immediately, then within weeks. On some weekends I'd go to Queens, the only gay bar in Bucharest at the time. I told myself I was looking to hook up but what I really wanted was a friend to talk to about how I felt. I saw this as a weakness and worked even harder to convince myself that all I wanted to do was have sex with men. There was something simple in this, in taking your clothes off in front of a stranger, not caring whether you'd ever see him again. Sometimes I did it. The only thing that betrayed my nervousness was this shiver that took over my entire body. "Are you cold?" my one night-stand would ask me. "No, I'm fine. I like it."
And it was sex I thought I was after that evening in July 2002 when I went to Queens. The scorching heat outside had mellowed and I had to get out of the house. We saw each other on the dance floor – we got closer, we started dancing to a funny song, laughing for no reason really, then we started touching, then kissing. I couldn't take my eyes off of him, we both smiled and we didn't even have to say anything. I did ask him his name. He was Alin and I seemed to be orbiting around him as everyone else seemed to be fading out of the picture. And he was dancing with me, kissing me, rubbing himself against my body. His eyes seemed to say a thousand words. Suddenly, this ease troubled me and I wanted to get out of the nauseating projection of the strobe globe above us. Before I went home, I gave him my number and invited him over the next day.
When he stepped down at the bus stop, he smiled shyly. We went home and ate, talked about music, and Queens, and the gay community in Bucharest. He told me that almost everyone around him knew he was gay. I felt I was leading a double life but I didn't want to tell him that. Some things are better hidden in the beginning; I didn't want to scare him away. I was thinking how to go about kissing him. Was it too soon? We talked some more, we lit a cigarette. The conversation was flowing and that made me want to touch him even more. I drew closer to him and ran my fingers through his hair. I kissed him. What I felt then – that tremor, that extraordinary vibration that shook both our bodies at once – that is the most precious memory I hold in my heart.
We couldn't keep our hands off each other. Our bodies searched each other frantically. His friends always joked: "You guys are like suction cups." We shared the same moments of joy and the same little worries. In our studio flat in Berceni we were lovers. When we stepped out of the building, we became roommates. We got on the subway and turned into good buddies until we got to a friend's house. There, we were allowed to be a couple again. We had to abide by these rules and hide a part of what we genuinely felt.
Sometimes we'd slip up. We'd meet in town after work and I'd forget I was supposed to hold out my hand and would find myself almost kissing him. At the restaurant, he would hold out his fork for me to taste the food. I'd call him Baby without realizing it and he would sometimes gaze into my eyes for too long. One time, we stopped by a grocer's stand near the subway to buy tomatoes and started talking about how many we should get, then we started picking them.
"Let's get the big, nice ones," one of us said. "No, let's get the smaller ones, they're tastier," the other chimed in. We had been living together for over three years and surely we must have been communicating like any other couple in such a situation. But the man was infuriated: how dared these fags touch his tomatoes?
We wanted to come out to our parents, to the neighbors, to co-workers, to the rest of the world. We talked about this and admitted our fears to each other. This was a way of seeing things we had both grown up with; we felt this was what the majority expected of us, including our parents. To say you're gay would be to disappoint, to cause repulsion, to inspire pity. You tell yourself the hatred is not directed at you personally, it's too irrational. People speak about fags in general, they don't know who we are. But the choir of voices keeps going every chance it gets and you can't help but feel defeated. You lose the courage to be yourself and accept the standard of the majority as the only measuring scale. Their truth becomes your truth.
I finally told some close friends that I was gay. But I continued hiding from most of them because I didn't want to be judged. All sorts of unlikely scenarios kept playing in my head: they would kick me out of their house; they would shake their heads and vanish from my life forever. For no real reason, I had decided they would not accept me, so I preferred to gradually lose touch with them. I thought it would be less painful that way and I found refuge in Alin's circle of friends.
I had decided my family couldn't possibly understand and I used lies against them. You don't understand, well, then you'll never know me. In fact, I had never even tried to explain anything to them. My grandmother on my father's side was concerned. "Still alone, my dear boy? Why aren't you seeing a girl?" With dad, things were easier because he was in Italy; we spoke rarely and I always managed to make up some story that left no room for questions. I saw my mom rarely and I wondered what was stopping me from trying to get closer to her: a death from the past or my present life?
Conversations with co-workers also avoided certain topics. My professional career was advancing rapidly but I was certain my sexual orientation would not be accepted at work. One of the firm partners ranted against the "damn Jews" every chance he got; I wasn't keen on hearing what he had to say about homosexuals. At the same time, I enjoyed the company of many colleagues and considered them my friends. For some of them, I made up a mysterious girlfriend, probably married (that explained why we were never seen together), named Paula. It was complicated to tell people about my vacation plans with my roommate – our living together was already a clue I feared could give me away. Whenever we returned from a trip I'd spend half a day sorting through photos. There was always something that could give me away: in Maramureș we had been too close, and in Mamaia we were always wearing each other's clothes.
I never went to the gay pride parade in Bucharest and neither did our few gay friends. There was something at stake for everyone but most of the time the reason was that they would disappoint their parents or would end up losing their jobs. We all migrated from one small circle to another, from one gay-friendly oasis to the next.
If you had asked me at that time what was stopping me from marching in the parade I would have said bluntly that I didn't feel like having a bunch of idiots throwing tomatoes at me. I only went to gay-themed film screenings that were part of the festival and that was enough to make me feel like a hypocrite; I lacked the courage to be out and proud. On the weekend, we'd go to the only gay club in Bucharest, where we had met. It was the only option because we didn't want to spend our evening some place where we would have to hide.
But in our small universe we were happy and I often thought, with that typical infatuation of someone in love, that what we had was unique and never ending. I would tell myself that life is an endurance test and love is what pushes you forward.
In the summer of 2005 we visited a friend who had moved to Brussels to study. The memory of the excitement we both felt simply because we could walk hand in hand on the street never fails to make me smile. We glanced at passers-by looking for the slightest glimpse of rejection, of judgment. We walked around in Brussels, we hugged on the banks of the Seine, we kissed in the middle of the square in downtown Amsterdam.
Once you've breathed in the fresh air of freedom, it's hard to ever forget it. We got back to our studio flat in Berceni and started looking for a way to escape. We spent months making emigration plans. First it was Canada, then Australia. It was hard: we had no savings to start anew, emigration conditions were harsh, we needed to have our schooling recognized and that could have taken years. We were told it was very hard to find a job, that no one would give you the time of day, that you'd be forever a foreigner both there and in your own country. But nothing could stand in our way; we knew it was only a matter of time.
Some of our friends understood our new obsession. They'd say we'd never be able to live the way we wanted to in Romania, that our love deserved more. Others said we were out of our minds, that everything important was right there: our love, family and friends, a home and a decent living. None of us could imagine what lay at the end of these searches; all we knew was that we had to run away and that we'd be together at the end of the road.
There was no need to fill in emigration forms. I was telling a friend about my summer vacation in Belgium; that's how I learnt that a financial consulting firm was hiring in Brussels. It all happened very fast. In the fall of 2006 I hugged my boyfriend, family and friends and hopped on a plane, and at the beginning of 2007, when Romania joined the EU, Alin joined me.
Since my grandmother's death I had only seen my mother sporadically and every meeting ended with an argument. I had been in Brussels for a few days when she called me. I could hear her fading voice on the phone, muffled by tears. I paced back and forth through the apartment, angry with her for insisting on having this conversation over the phone, but mostly angry at my former neighbors in Berceni who had told her in great detail about the suspicious relationship her son had with a brown-haired boy that also lived there.
"Forgive me, but I need to know. I can't live like this, not knowing for a fact," my mom was saying. I sensed there was only one thing that would convince her, so I confessed just to put an end to her questions. "I'm happy. That should matter, right? Isn't it enough that I'm happy?" Everything was silent for a few seconds, then mom said: "Please, don't talk to me like that. Don't mock me."
I don't know whether I was laughing or crying but my vision was blurry and my voice was stifled. "I'm happy, mom. I'm happy and that's how I wake up and go to sleep. I look around me and can't see anyone happier than me. I love him and I never imagined I could live something so beautiful."
Alin was still in Romania as I was telling all this to my mom. I told her how I wandered the streets of Brussels with faltering steps, how that distance of over two thousand kilometers drowned my soul in sorrow, how I waited eagerly for evening to come so I could hear my boyfriend's voice over the phone. Mom was comforting me and crying with me on the phone and, after all this time, I felt like I was her child again.
Since then, we've started talking more often. She's even visited us twice. She's always saying how beautiful we are together and how lucky we are to have found each other.
I told my father three years later. Being so far from each other for such a long time, it was hard for me to figure out a good time to confess. Occasions were rare and I asked myself what he would make out of that information. In 2009 I turned 30 and I decided I had to do it as soon as possible. I wrote him an e-mail and he replied the very next day. He was glad I was not alone and he loved me.
My grandmother now has a new grandson and my aunts and uncles have a new nephew. They always ask me to put him on the phone. They're crazy about Alin, and I certainly can't blame them.
Romania is today the place where my family and some of my friends are. As soon as I fully acknowledged that I was normal, I no longer allowed myself to hide from people, regardless of whether they were around me or a three-hour flight away. I tell everyone who I love, and today there is no fear and no shame in my life. My friends and co-workers in Romania have found out from our talks or at least seen it on Facebook. No one had bad things to say about it. A few contacted me seeking confirmation and I gave it to them. Distance makes things easier, but I tend to think their reactions wouldn't have been much different had I stayed in Romania, close to them.
When I got to Belgium I decided I would tell people who I was from the very beginning. If you want to know me, then you must know I am gay. What I do in bed is of little importance. But what is really important is who and how I love because that is the biggest part of who I am.
For people here, my relationship with another man is not something out of the ordinary; my co-workers and I share anecdotes about couple life, and friends say they can only imagine the two of us together. I now realize it was me I had to convince first, not everyone else. I still wonder sometimes if I'd ever have managed to do this had I not left the country, if I'd have managed to build up enough courage to raise my voice, stand up to the opinion of a noisy but otherwise unknown majority.
Although I left Romania of my own accord, when I go back I feel as if I were banished. Maybe not so much by the people, but by my own thoughts, by a need for a level of self-acceptance I couldn't have achieved in those circumstances. Our mind is a prisoner of those particularities that make up life's immediate existence. Reading about free people doesn't help you truly grasp what it's like to live free.
In Belgium, I changed. I smile at people when I walk down the street. I don't think it's weird that the guy passing me by is humming a song; on the contrary, I listen to see if he's got a nice voice. I sympathize with the lady in front of me who stops all of a sudden to look at the scenery. I'm no longer on the run either. I say "I love you" to Alin just as often but I also try to show it to him in different ways. I make more time to read and write. At 30, I learned to ride a bike.
Happiness is hard to put into words. This summer, it has been nine years since Alin and I first got together. We're both changing and yet we're still so close; sometimes I feel we've come to exist as different facets of the same being. In the morning, in bed, I hold him and the world wraps itself around us. Still drowsy with sleep I let myself slip into a sweet confusion – for a few seconds the line that separates my body from his fades. In the freedom of our embrace I find all the happiness that I need.
DoR #7.1
Toamnă, 2011
Când nimeni nu se uită
În căutarea unui final pentru un joc început în copilărie – jocul de-a moartea.
De Laurențiu Ion
Colaje de Anna Grozavu
English, Portrete
Perjovschi's Romania
Artist Dan Perjovschi draws his trademark figures on the walls of the world's most important art institutions, but he couldn't do them without Romania.
De Maria Bercea
Photos by Roald Aron
Illustrations by Dan Perjovschi
Ana Blandiana povestește de ce s-a întors de fiecare dată acasă din străinătate, în anii comunismului.
De Ana Blandiana


Mobile, Alabama - January 16, 2019, Governor Kay Ivey joined leaders of Airbus, top local officials and others at the Mobile Aeroplex today for a groundbreaking ceremony to launch construction of the company's new A220 aircraft manufacturing facility.
For more information about the Aerospace Innovative Technology Summit, visit the conference website.
AAIA is collaborating to promote but is not a host for this conference.
Alabama leaders are focusing on how to best maintain and improve the transportation infrastructure in our state. Roads and bridges not only bring aerospace employees from home to work, they enable our products to move through the supply chain. To find current news and developments on this important topic, click here to visit the Alliance for Alabama's Infrastructure website.


Need a bit more space for extended family or in-home care? The Flagstaff features four bedrooms and three bathrooms, an open living area, and large kitchen with separate pantry. We're showing this plan with an optional open railing leading to the lower level, ideal for finished space downstairs. Outside, the plan is shown with an optional saddle porch, and could easily accommodate a site-built, attached garage.
4 Bedrooms | 3 Baths | 1,755 sq. ft.


text:
Cambodia & Laos
Vietnam Marco Polo Travel Guide - with pull out map
You Are Here: Books » Places » Asia » South East Asia - Vietnam : Max Hastings
an epic history of a tragic war
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THE SUNDAY TIMES BESTSELLER
'His masterpiece' Antony Beevor, Spectator
'A masterful performance' Sunday Times
'By far the best book on the Vietnam War' Gerald Degroot, The Times, Book of the Year
Vietnam became the Western world's most divisive modern conflict, precipitating a battlefield humiliation for France in 1954, then a vastly greater one for the United States in 1975. Max Hastings has spent the past three years interviewing scores of participants on both sides, as well as researching a multitude of American and Vietnamese documents and memoirs, to create an epic narrative of an epic struggle. He portrays the set pieces of Dienbienphu, the Tet offensive, the air blitz of North Vietnam, and less familiar battles such as the bloodbath at Daido, where a US Marine battalion was almost wiped out, together with extraordinary recollections of Ho Chi Minh's warriors. Here are the vivid realities of strife amid jungle and paddies that killed 2 million people.
Many writers treat the war as a US tragedy, yet Hastings sees it as overwhelmingly that of the Vietnamese people, of whom forty died for every American. US blunders and atrocities were matched by those committed by their enemies. While all the world has seen the image of a screaming, naked girl seared by napalm, it forgets countless eviscerations, beheadings and murders carried out by the communists. The people of both former Vietnams paid a bitter price for the Northerners' victory in privation and oppression. Here is testimony from Vietcong guerrillas, Southern paratroopers, Saigon bargirls and Hanoi students alongside that of infantrymen from South Dakota, Marines from North Carolina, Huey pilots from Arkansas.
No past volume has blended a political and military narrative of the entire conflict with heart-stopping personal experiences, in the fashion that Max Hastings' readers know so well. The author suggests that neither side deserved to win this struggle with so many lessons for the 21st century about the misuse of military might to confront intractable political and cultural challenges. He marshals testimony from warlords and peasants, statesmen and soldiers, to create an extraordinary record.
Max Hastings
illustrations (black and white, and colour), maps (black and white)
Available, usually dispatched within 3 days
The secret war
'As gripping as any spy thriller . Hastings's achievement is especially impressive, for he has produced the best single volume yet written on the subject' Sunday Times
'Authoritative, exciting and notably well written' Daily Telegraph
'A serious work of rigourous and comprehensive history . royally entertaining and readable' Mail on


This is a site where I document a lot of the stuff I discover or work out during the daily grind. This is partly so that other people can learn from my msitakes and save time, and partly because these days my memory is shocking an I can't remember what I was doing last Tuesday. Hopefully something I wrote here helped you/saved you time/got you out of a hole.
I'm a 30-something Cyber Security engineer. Right now I'm working for a FTSE100 energy company but I mess around with a lot of stuff in my spare time too. I'm a CISSP and at various times in my life have been a CCNA, N+ etc.