A whole new Mumbai

News of shootings and hostage crises in Mumbai shocked the world, and rightfully so. USA Today writes that the gunmen delivered "an unmistakable message: This U.S.-friendly democracy of 1.2 billion people has joined the front lines of the global war on terrorism" (via Slate). BBC summarizes the turn of events here.

This terrifies me. The Mumbai I know from traveling there in March and April couldn't have felt further away from the regularized terrorism of the Middle East and elsewhere. Though defined by tensions of rich and poor, new and old, Mumbai is (was) a vibrant, multicultural and foremost safe metropolis.

What's more, the violence did not occur out of the sight of tourists and expats, as is so often the case elsewhere.

Café Leopold is practically a right of passage for Western tourists visiting Mumbai and well-to-do Bombayites alike. The backpacker's bible The Lonely Planet writes, "Drawn like moths to a Kingfisher flame, most tourists end up at this Mumbai traveller's institution at one time or another." Jess, Rebecca and I ate there numerous times. It was there that I met up with an old high school friend, choosing the most obvious meeting point we knew.

The Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus, another site of shootings, also known as Victoria Terminus, is one of Mumbai's central landmarks and a symbol of British colonial splendour. The architecture, pictured above in March, is vast and exquisite. The Penn Station of Mumbai, CST is filled at all hours with thousands of people from all walks of life.

Though I didn't make it to Mumbai's Chabad House, you can imagine the demographic there. Innumerable Israeli tourists visit India each year, along with Jews young and old from around the world. And the Taj Mahal Hotel, a stone's through from where we stayed but well beyond our student budgets, symbolizes the super-wealthy elite of Mumbai, hosting movie stars and millionnaire businessmen nightly.

All of this took place in and around Colaba, arguably India's most conspicuous tourist hub, where Jess, Rebecca and I spent much of our time. I remember our discussions about crime in Mumbai; I was confused by the feeling of total personal safety I had there, night and day, especially having just come from crime-ridden Nairobi, Kenya.

It's why this news has hit me especially hard. I don't mean to harp on the presence of Westerners there; it shouldn't take dead Westerners to elicit the compassion of the media and its viewers about a crime. Yet I am a Westerner and – for better or for worse, probably worse – the shootings ring truer for me because of it. Perhaps my descriptions above will have a similar effect for some of you.

Who is blind?

I have begun interviews for an awareness-raising project on persons with disabilities in Zambia. It will involve around 20 small black-and-white posters photocopied in the thousands and distributed around Lusaka and Zambia – at hospitals, churches, government buildings, NGOs, and so on. Each poster will express the voice of a single disabled person: "MY VOICE as a person with a disability."

More on the project later. For now, here is an excerpt from one of my interviews. Peter Chibesa Bwale (pictured above) lost his sight at 14 and now, at 28, teaches computers and Braille to other blind people. He is also an active musician and actor. The following is his word-for-word reply to my question, what would you like other Zambians to know about persons with disabilities, through this project? I used a voice recorder, and the text is unedited.

To the people out there, disability is not inability.
Disability comes next after a human being.
When I was born, I was not born a disability.
I was born a child, and then you noticed a disability after I was born.
Who is blind? If you look at me and only see blindness when I am a human being?
Don’t handle me like a liability.
Don’t interpret my rights by replacing them with charity.
Give me what is mine rightly.
Let me not fight for it, for it is mine.
Don’t underrate me or my abilities.
Give me what I need for me to succeed.
Teach me how to fish.
I do not want to be given fish, for tomorrow is for those who prepare for it.
Thank you.

Feature article

Full-page spread in the Saturday, November 22, 2008 edition of the Times of Zambia:


Zambia leads way in cluster bombs ban

By LOUIS CENTURY

“When Zambia spoke, 34 African countries had spoken,” says Ms. Sheila Mweemba, director of the Zambia Mine Action Centre, under the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

She is referring to Zambia’s role as African representative in the global campaign to ban cluster bombs, known as the Oslo Process.

Cluster bombs, also known as cluster munitions, get their name because they contain “clusters” of dozens to hundreds of smaller “bomblets” or “submunitions” which are scattered over large areas.

Many of these bomblets fail to explode on impact, thus becoming landmines and destroying civilian lives long after the end of a conflict.

Beginning in February 2007, countries from around the world have been pushing for a legally binding treaty banning the use, production, transfer and stockpiling of cluster bombs.

On December 3, 2008, in Oslo, Norway, over 100 countries are expected to sign the groundbreaking Convention on Cluster Munitions. Zambia will sign the treaty.

What few Zambians know is that Zambian men and women played crucial roles in making this treaty possible.

Why Zambia?

Apart from an isolated incident during the Zimbabwean liberation struggle, Zambians have not been affected by cluster bombs.

But Zambians have felt the impact of landmines laid by foreign armies on their territory. And Zambians have witnessed the impact of violent conflict in their neighbouring countries.

Ms. Mweemba explains: “For us, we have seen what anti-personnel mines have done, and cluster munitions can do far worse. So why wait until it becomes a problem?”

In recent years, we have seen a rise in the use of cluster bombs around the world.

In Iraq in 2003 and Kosovo in 1999, cluster bombs dropped by the United States and Britain killed more civilians than any other weapon system.

In Lebanon in 2006, 4 million submunitions were dropped by Israel. An average of 25 percent of them failed to explode, creating roughly 1 million potential landmines in the tiny southern part of the country.

Ethiopia and Eritrea used cluster bombs against each other in 1998.

Ms. Mweemba reminds us that the countries worst hit by cluster bombs often lack the capacity to remove the bombs and help the victims.

Like Zambia, they tend to be developing countries whose economies rely on foreign aid. They are almost never producers of cluster bombs.

“The people who are selling these weapons are not using them in their own backyards. They always inevitably end up in ours. And we don’t have the capacity to clean up.”

Contaminated land prevents development – including agriculture, mining and tourism – because people are unable to walk the land in fear of explosions.

The countries where cluster bombs were used may seem distant from peaceful Zambia.

So long as cluster bombs remain in production and use, Ms. Mweemba counters, Zambians are potentially at risk.

Speaking for Africa

Facing opposition from powerful weapon-producing countries like the United States and China, African countries banded together under Zambia’s leadership in support of a total ban on cluster bombs.

In March to April of this year, Zambia hosted the first ever Africa-wide conference to ban cluster bombs, in Livingstone.

As Dr. Robert Mtonga, a Zambian medical doctor and Africa spokesperson for the international Cluster Munition Coalition, said during the conference, “Too often Africa’s voice is pushed to the margins in international decision making. But in banning cluster bombs worldwide, a common African voice will speak volumes and win the day.”

South Africa and Egypt have both produced and exported cluster munitions. At least 14 African countries stockpile cluster munitions, including Zambia’s neighbours Angola and Zimbabwe, as well as nearby South Africa and Uganda.

While most African countries supported a total ban on cluster bombs, South Africa adamantly opposed such a ban.

In negotiations, South African representatives pushed for a watered down treaty that would make exceptions for certain types of cluster bombs.

Along with other producing countries, South Africa argued that cluster bombs with reliable detonation rates and self-destruct mechanisms for duds should be excused from the ban.

The Zambian Minister of Foreign Affairs, Kabinga Pande, made Zambia and Africa’s position very clear: “Africa is going for a total ban because all cluster munitions cause unacceptable harm... No matter how wise or foolish a bomb is, it will remain a threat to civilians.”

For one, there has never been a cluster bomb without unacceptable failure rates. Secondly, even if such technology existed, cluster bombs are indiscriminate by nature.

By scattering over large areas, they are unable to distinguish between military and civilian targets, which is one of the basic requirements of the laws of war.

Starting in Livingstone, Mr. Pande, Ms. Mweemba, Dr. Mtonga and other Zambians began the process of unifying African countries around the idea of a total ban on cluster bombs. “No exceptions, no excuses.”

Negotiating the ban

When countries gathered to negotiate the treaty in Dublin, Ireland in May, 2008, Zambia continued its role as coordinator of African countries.

Under Zambia’s leadership, Africa went to Dublin speaking with one voice. With 34 African countries endorsing the treaty at that time, Africa was the largest regional block. Their voice did not – could not – go unheard.

When certain countries called for transition periods, Africa rejected them. Ms. Mweemba rhetorically asked, “What’s the point of banning a weapon and then using it for 10 or 15 more years?”

When certain countries called for rigid definitions of cluster bombs that would excuse certain types from the ban, Africa rejected such definitions.

In the end, compromises were required by all sides. In exchange for removing transition periods, Africa conceded some space on definitions.

The final treaty contains a definition of cluster bombs that excludes certain specific types – submunitions must not number more than 10 for each cluster bomb or weigh more than 4 kilogrammes each, for example.

Yet the definition is broad enough that most cluster bombs in the world, including those produced by South Africa, are covered by the ban.

For many, the most important part of the new treaty is its provisions on victim assistance.

Mr. Yona Phiri, survivor of a landmine that was laid by Zimbabwean liberation fighters in Zambia decades ago, holds this opinion:

“It is essential that this treaty include survivor assistance provisions for governments to take ownership of their survivor populations. Because unlike me, the majority of victims receive no support.

“They are isolated and sitigmatized. Their communities are missing out on their talents and their potential. We are an asset not a liability.”

Improving on the Mine Ban Treaty which banned anti-personnel landmines 10 years ago, the Convention on Cluster Munitions requires states to help victims in specific and legally binding ways.

For Zambia, where there are no cluster bomb victims, this will mean providing assistance to landmine survivors and other persons with disabilities.

The treaty states that countries “shall not discriminate… between cluster munition victims and those who have suffered injuries or disabilities from other causes.”

When Zambia signs and ratifies the treaty, the Zambian government will be legally obligated to provide support to landmine victims and disabled persons.

This includes medical care, rehabilitation and psychological support, and socio-economic inclusion.

Moving forward

One month ago, 42 Zambian civil society leaders convened at the University Teaching Hospital in Lusaka to plan for the domestication of the Convention on Cluster Munitions.

Among the doctors, activists, journalists, police and others in attendance, there was the sense that banning cluster bombs was only just the beginning.

Zambians still have to make the treaty a reality by ensuring support for landmine victims and disabled persons, setting an example for other countries.

Most importantly, banning cluster bombs represents one small victory in the larger disarmament campaign.

“The success of the Oslo Process brings the world one step closer to our foremost goal of global peace and disarmament,” said Dr. Mtonga, who convened the meeting of Zambian stakeholders.

Next in line is tackling small arms and nuclear weapons, which Dr. Mtonga and other Zambians are already actively engaged in.

In these larger tasks, there is no doubt that Zambia will remain a global leader.

When asked how Zambia would respond to a country that wanted to attack it, Ms. Mweemba replied, “I’d sit down and talk about it.”

Zambia is a peaceful country with a peaceful history. As Ms. Mweemba said, Zambia believes in dialogue before turning to weapons.

“But even if we did turn to weapons,” she said, “cluster munitions would not be our weapon of choice.”

Thanks in part to Zambia’s efforts, using cluster bombs will no longer be an option – for any country.

Louis Century works for the Zambian Campaign to Ban Landmines in Lusaka.

Sleeping bombs: Security blankets

My mother, Barbara Todd, and I have been planning Sleeping bombs: Security blankets for several weeks. The project will utilize the connections I have with Mines Action Canada interns and other disarmament campaigners around the world. Here is the project summary:

This is a proposal for funds to support the production of a collaborative artwork addressing the issue of landmines and cluster bombs in an innovative and thought-provoking way. Sleeping bombs: Security blankets will be a joint project between Barbara Todd and Louis Century. The artwork will express the complex and interconnected nature of global conflict and its impact on human lives.

The artwork will consist of fifteen small quilts, each representing a single survivor’s story. Textiles will be collected from the home areas of the survivors – textiles that are culturally specific, locally produced and personally meaningful to each survivor. With these textiles as a backdrop, other textiles that are representative of the producing country of the weapon that injured the survivor will be overlaid. This second fabric will depict the particular model of landmine or cluster bomb that caused the injury.

Below each quilt, the survivor’s narrative will be more literally portrayed, using photography, testimonials and physical artifacts. Through these various media the survivor’s story will be told: how and when he or she was injured, how the injury affects his or her life, as well as information about the weapon in the quilt and the fabrics used.

The project will offer both a general understanding of the global nature of arms production, trade and use, as well as an honest and intimate glimpse into the subjective personal experience of individual survivors. Instead of representing a simplistic victim-aggressor narrative or commodifying the textiles of a given culture, the artwork will express the complicated and at times paradoxical narrative of military violence and civilian impact, using the diversity and complexity of textiles as a parallel narrative.

The age-old significance of textiles as protectors – used for sleep, care and warmth, the very antithesis of military violence – adds potency to these representations. The particular nature of landmines and cluster bombs – that they lay latent and explode unexpectedly, as if sleeping only to be awakened by a farmer’s foot or a child’s hand – will be evoked through the textiles.

If you're interested, email me and I'll send you the full proposal. Though the budget is substantial, our short-term priority is to obtain the funds needed to acquire materials and collect stories before the MAC interns return to Ottawa in January – just $1,000 or $2,000. If you have any advice on funding, let us know!

Here are some previous works by Barbara Todd, for those unfamiliar with her. You might also check out this earlier entry.

Security Blanket: A Child's Quilt (32 Missiles, 1 Bomb), 1988-89, Collection of the Canada Council Art Bank.

Barbara Todd: Security Blankets, Installation view at the Oakville Galleries, Oakville, Ontario, 1993.

Pelt, 1996, from A Bed is a Boat, Galerie Oboro, Montreal, 1996.

Jardin de guérison (Healing garden), Sacred Heart Hospital, Montreal, 2008.

Some postmodern continent-hopping

Last night, I watched the latest James Bond film, only it wasn’t what you think.

I watched a Chinese-produced copy – dubbed into Chinese from the original English, atrociously subtitled back into English, and sold in downtown Lusaka, Zambia, all before the film’s release date here.

Watching Britain’s beloved hero jabber away in Chinese, straining my mind to understand the hilariously nonsensical English subtitles, sitting in my Lusaka living room, I felt immersed in a wholly postmodern experience.

It isn’t the first of such experiences I’ve had in Zambia.

On Saturday, my housemate Aaron and I spent the afternoon exploring Lusaka’s expansive markets – Kamwala, COMESA, Soweto and City – perusing for new-old clothes and other nick-nacks.

The clothing market in Lusaka, as in the rest of Africa, consists largely of Chinese-produced garments bought by Western consumers, donated or abandoned to second-hand shops like Value Village and the Salvation Army, and ultimately – after even these shops give up trying to sell them – shipped as cargo to one of Africa’s ocean ports, from where they are transported to Lusaka and countless other urban markets across the continent.

It’s why you shouldn’t be surprised to come across Tim Horton’s caps or Oakville Bantam ‘AA’ Hockey jackets (for my Canadian friends) or other obscure Western novelties in the remotest corners of Africa.

For a creative and photo-filled account of the lifespan of various little girls’ dresses, click here. For a great piece of reporting that follows the actual journey of a single blouse – from Leicestershire, England to Chipata, Zambia – click here.

This process hasn’t escaped academic interest. An old professor of mine reviewed Salaula: the world of secondhand clothing and Zambia, which argues that Africans actively appropriate second-hand Western clothes in a process of identity construction.

I buy the argument, although I still regret the dwindling of traditional, locally produced garments.

This stall pictured below sold Zambian- and Congolese-produced chitenges, worn as wraparound skirts and baby slings by women (generally accompanying their Gap or Fruit Of The Loom shirts). The patterns and printing techniques are fascinating. I plan to bring many home to my mother, who is a textile artist, hopefully for the purpose of a large-scale collaborative artwork – more on that later!

The trials of a new Zambian NGO

On Wednesday, after a long and drawn-out process, the Zambia Foundation for Landmine Survivors (ZAFLAS) was formally registered with the Registrar of Societies. Pictured above, founding chairman Yona Phiri smiles with his long sought-after certificate.

Attempts to register ZAFLAS date back to months before I even arrived in Zambia. Yona and his colleagues were frustrated by a total lack of government support given to landmine survivors or disabled persons more generally. Just to receive official status as a landmine survivor, Yona fought patiently and persistently for several years, visiting and revisiting government and police officials who expressed no interest in his plight – indeed, who were concerned that granting Yona status would open the floodgates for new requests and end up burdening state resources.

Remarkably, and with support from friends like my supervisor Dr. Bob, Yona was formally recognized as a landmine survivor, although to this day he remains the only one in the country with such status. Lack of will and resources have prevented the government agency concerned with landmines from conducting a national survey of victims. Despite Zambia’s ratification of the Mine Ban Treaty, there has been little action on demining and even less on survivor assistance.

Yona is not the only landmine survivor in Zambia. There are hundreds more, though no one really knows how many. Yona set up ZAFLAS to find out. Among other things, his goals are to register new landmine survivors and give them a voice in his organization.

Shortly after I arrived in Zambia, I met Yona and other founding members (and wrote about it here). I admired their cause, and saw the value in establishing a civil society organization to complement and keep in check the work of the governmental Zambia Mine Action Centre. Their obstacle at the time was the million Kwacha (around US$300) fee required to register with the Registrar of Societies. I set out to raise what they still lacked of this amount through small donations from family and friends.

Over the last two months, I have worked with ZAFLAS to get them registered, and witnessed the formidable hurdles that prevent grassroots NGOs from starting up in Zambia.

In addition to the registration fee, Yona and his colleagues were confronted by countless unexpected obstacles – police checks, city council approval, endorsement letters, and on and on, each with additional costs ($30 here, $50 there). Every new requirement meant a day or more of bus and taxi fares; many founding members are disabled, making transportation difficult and costly. With anticipation of a small grant from Mines Action Canada – which was confirmed last week! – and contributions from family and friends, I was able to support ZAFLAS financially to the end. Without my privileged flow of funds, I cannot imagine how Yona would have raised the registration fee, to say nothing of the hundreds more dollars in additional fees and transportation costs.

One could perhaps argue that this obstacle course of a registration process ensures the integrity of organizations that finally do register. By necessitating sacrifices and investments from the get-go, the number of half-hearted, inefficient organizations is reduced. I am confident that ZAFLAS will not be one of these failure cases, in part because of how hard they’ve worked already.

On the other hand, without my serendipitous arrival, ZAFLAS would not exist as it does now. Do the roundabout requirements for registration actually reward hard work, or just deep pockets and timely connections? Yona met me partly because of his previous dedication – in fighting for his rights as a disabled person and landmine survivor, Yona made contacts with the people who eventually put us in touch. Yet it’s quite plausible that we would never have met, and the Zambia Foundation for Landmine Survivors, despite the remarkable dedication of its members and worthiness of its cause, would still not be registered.

Regardless of how it happened, I’m happy ZAFLAS is now registered. In supporting the organization financially, I was careful to reflect on issues of financial dependency that were drilled into me over four years of academic study. Yona and I often spoke about trying to avoid dependency relationships, knowing that my limited funds would only take ZAFLAS so far. Yona works hard to instill the concept of personal sacrifice in fellow members. To make sure that members feel a stake in the organization, Yona is strict about collecting the measly membership fees, even though they’ll seem inconsequential after ZAFLAS receives its first grant.

Now that ZAFLAS is registered, their struggle has only just begun. It may seem like they’re in over their heads – in a cut-throat development world of computers and Internet, ZAFLAS has neither knowledge of computers nor the resources to learn. What they do have is an inspiring leader and a diverse team supporting him. Fortunately, there are prospects for collaborations between ZAFLAS and bigger organizations – both the Zambia Mine Action Centre and major Norwegian disability stakeholders are planning projects we hope ZAFLAS can play a part in.

I am confident and excited about the coming months. While I realize more than ever that development can be a nasty game of money and cold calculation, it doesn’t have to be that way. I hope for the sake of disabled people all over Zambia that Yona’s new organization is successful.

1:38 of your time

Watch this video.

Sign the People's Treaty: http://www.minesactioncanada.org/peoples_treaty/index.cfm.

Help ban cluster bombs!

To learn more, check out this six-minute Human Rights Watch video or visit the Cluster Munition Coalition website. You have three weeks until the signing conference in Oslo, where governments from around the world will put the groundbreaking ban in writing. Will your government sign the ban? Until Oslo, every one of your signatures helps!

Where were you?

I am so happy and excited I can barely write a full sentence. As my father just said, it still feels like a dream.

I'll keep this short, and ask a question we'll be asking for generations to come: "Where were you when Barack Obama was elected president of the United States?"

My answer: O'Hagan's Irish Pub, Lusaka, Zambia.


Actually, by 6:00am Zambia time when the official announcement was made, I was slouched half-awake on my living room sofa, weeping hopelessly in my tired state. (No pictures of that, I'm afraid.)

Anyone else? Where were you?

November 4, 2008

If your excitement about the coming day, like mine, is running wildly out of control, here are three readings to channel your energy and stay cool:

• An NYT article from ten days ago on Obama’s management style, to assure you of his composed leadership abilities.
• The transcript of his famous race speech, "A More Perfect Union," to remind you of why you first loved this man.
• The transcript of Montreal’s own Masked Avengers’ prank call with Sarah Palin, for comedic relief.

For visual effect, I couldn’t help but also post this brilliant Los Angeles graffiti art, from the French Libération newspaper [Dans la banlieue de Los Angeles, on vote déjà...Obama]:


Happy November 4th everybody!

Monitoring the Zambian election

Through a random expat acquaintance – a Czech guy I met at a BBQ two months ago and ran into at the mall last week – I landed a volunteering gig to help monitor last week’s election.

This was an exciting opportunity for me – to witness the inner workings of a fledgling African democracy, and partake in election monitoring, an activity that has always intrigued me. For all the emphasis that is put on the importance of fair elections, grasping the actual process, in all its complexity and scope, isn’t straightforward.

The Foundation for Democratic Processes (FODEP) was one of the primary monitors of last Thursday’s vote, which it deemed free and fair. The organization hired 922 monitors to be placed in every voting booth in every polling station across the country, including 150 supervisors, one per constituency.

FODEP teamed up with the Washington-based National Democratic Institute (NDI) to implement a procedure called Parallel Vote Tabulation (PVT), whereby monitors across the country observe the vote counting process at the constituency level and transmit the numbers, via their supervisors, to NDI. As the Electoral Commission of Zambia (ECZ) tallied its results, NDI and FODEP simultaneously tallied theirs, and could then confirm or reject the official announcement.

After a day-long training session, I was assigned the task of working in the FODEP “command centre” in Lusaka. My job, performed in two all-night shifts from 9:30pm to 5:30am, beginning the night the polls closed, was to proactively contact FODEP supervisors across Zambia and collect their results. Along with a dozen or so other phone operators, I dialed supervisors’ numbers into the early hours of the morning, carefully documenting their observed vote tallies for each polling station, as well as qualitative observations made according to a multiple-choice form.

The experience, though arduous, was rewarding. I was blown away by the sheer scale of the project. NDI staff from the U.S. and elsewhere worked around the clock for several days analyzing results and overseeing our work. Using piles of new mobile phones, state-of-the-art computers and a thousand personnel, a civil society organization was able to follow a national election and arrive at a result independently of the government process.

I struggled with phone reception, communication barriers and other technical issues. But Zambian spelling is thoroughly phonetic, meaning I could spell most words simply by slowly repeating them out loud. My non-Zambian status didn’t go unnoticed – one supervisor called the centre and asked for the white man she’d been speaking to; several of my fellow volunteers approached me with queries, assuming I was part of NDI’s international staff.

All in all, however, the prevalence of the English language and cell phones made possible a remarkable process that would have been inconceivable a decade ago. Some say there were problems with the vote – opposition leader Michael Sata has pledged to take the ECZ to court over rigging. You can call me naïve, but having participated in FODEP’s grassroots monitoring process, I fail to see how substantial rigging could have taken place.

Tomorrow, an election thirty times bigger and infinitely more significant globally will take place. It consoles me to know that in the United States, like in Zambia, election monitors will help to keep the process in check [OSCE begins monitoring of US elections].

The Zambian poll in pictures

As described in my previous entry, countless trucks filled with Michael Sata supporters barreled down Independence Avenue on election eve.

This was by no means as crammed as they got.

The flowery and well-kempt boulevard of Independence Avenue, nearby the president's house, offers an outside glimpse of the perks of being president.

Rupiah Banda posters like these were hard to miss.

Election day, declared a national holiday, was calm, with some streets nearly empty.

A polling station in Kabwata, near my Woodlands home. Though I was able to walk around inside the station, picture-taking was prohibited.

The FODEP command centre in the early hours of the morning on Friday. This is where I stayed up for two consecutive night shifts collecting results from election monitors around the country.

Banda supporters celebrate at a gas station across the street from where their leader was being sworn in as president.

Banda posters above a typically colourful downtown Lusaka shop. I wonder how long it'll take for shops and businesses to take down the old Mwanawasa portraits and replace them with Banda ones.