Sustainable Energy motivates winners of Internal HULT Prize  

Sustainability is one of the key factors of maintaining a good business, and this year’s HULT Prize challenges its participants to focus on such. Founded by HULT MBA Alumnus Ahmad Ashkar, the HULT Prize is the worldwide social entrepreneurship competition with a $1 million USD seed-capital money for the winning team. The task for the students this year is to efficiently harness the power energy in transforming the lives of people.

By pursuing large, untapped markets and tackling the greatest problems of humanity in the modern times, the HULT Prize aims to use these existing channels through profitability and sustainability. With rounds of elimination starting from the internal competition going to the regional competition, the teams who will be making it to the final round will be delivering their pitches in front of an international audience in New York.


London Campus (by Bea Yabut)

Held last December 2, the HULT Prize at the London Campus proved to be a worthwhile experience in innovating solutions for different markets. Out of the 23 student teams that participated this year, three went to the semifinals, namely Teams ENPOV, NEBULA, and 3NERGIA.

Team ENPOV, the winning team, pitched a two-part product and service solution to rural mobility and agricultural struggles. They have designed a hybrid electric tricycle that utilizes pedal power and is assisted by solar power. They will also be setting up a complimentary service which includes pedal powered milling stations that double as bicycle repair hubs.  Hanny Semere from Team ENPOV said that they are planning to go to Ethiopia to launch their minimum viable product. They decided early on that they had to take feedback and criticism from so many different perspectives of their mentors, mostly HULT staffers such as Evangelos Markopoulos, Daniel Rukare, Eli Bohemond, Nikhilesh Sinha, and Ronan Gruenbaum.

What helped most of the teams were their classes at HULT—problem solving lessons and models were applied across the entire idea formulation and assessment process. Trevor Bauder of Team 3NERGIA, said that with the first idea that they had, they realized that the further they went along with it, the more complications they found. “[I]t was actually about probably three weeks ago when [we] actually came up with the idea, said Bauder. Their company product has to do with recycled shipping containers, refurbished solar panels, and batteries which allows them to convert the shipping container into a classroom that is self- sustains that generates its own energy.

Team NEBULA on the other hand was bent on using fog catchers to produce water for underdeveloped rural areas that don’t have easy access to water. A fog catcher is able to collect water out of fog and we feel that there are many mountainous areas next to oceans that contain massive amounts of fog.  Nitin Gaba, one of its members, believed that they can turn these dry lands into farmlands just by stealing a bit of the sky and provide water for crops to grow and this is just the beginning of the potential of what we aim to achieve with our fog catchers.

The judges included Yoav Gross, Jonathan Crook, Marc Ortmans, Sabrina Palme, Andre Quintanilha, Eleonora Ferrero, Gareth Walsh, William Annandale, Rosemary Harper, Jonathan Munday, Nitin Sukh, Ajit Kumar, and Elena Mariotti. Said Ortmans, “[I]t’s worth noting that while that the motivation is initially for the prize, you’ll see people not just follow up with the online version but also just take the idea forward anyway of their own volition so they come on out and find funding.”


Boston Campus (by Reina Adriano)

Held last Saturday, December 2, the HULT Prize at the Boston Campus had 4 semi-finalists from the 19 teams that competed, namely Humane Energy, Ecolution, Aasha, and Amal-Ray of Hope. While Amal-Ray of Hope was convinced with lighting up lives where no one has by using Galvanic battery to illuminate LED using seawater electrolyte, Ecolution, on the other hand, focused on Nepal and its issues after the earthquake of 2013, specifically on food loss and wastage. While trying to find a viable solution they soon realized the problem was far more alarming when measured at a global scale.  The team devised a refrigeration unit, called the Ecobox, that would run on off-grid electricity to provide preservation for fresh produce from the farm to the market.

Humane Energy bagged the runner-up, for being an energy company that makes use of urine as a power generation in diverse industries. Composed of Javette Nixon, Hector Manjarrez, Nick Hugo Plueschke, Saloni Kania, Human Energy’s social impact of their concept impressed their judges.

This year’s finalist of HULT Boston’s Internal HULT Prize Aasha (Hope) was dedicated to building a better world. With Nitin Sethi, Anurag Sarangi, Rijul Gautam, and Ishan Kankoner, Aasha is using virtual reality to address real problems to farmers in connection with the challenge by giving access to water resources and by utilizing OffGridBox and solar power.

The judges of the Boston campus were fascinated with the different pitches by the students. “Every adversity presents an opportunity,” exclaims one of the judges. They strongly recommended in the presentations that by starting with the main problem and the relevant solution, the next challengers may have stronger convictions in presenting their ideas. One piece of motivation the judges gave for the Boston campus: “This is not the end of your journey but only to beginning of it.”


San Francisco Campus (by Ivana Sinibaldi and Nga Ying Alberta Mok)

The winners from the San Francisco campus did not disappoint. From the 21 teams that participated, good responses about the competition were gathered. The finalists were The Multiverse, H2All (Winner), Infinaqua, Shield and Conexus. The teams focused on the critical issues in today’s world. H2All and Infinaqua proposed a user-friendly solution to purify contaminated water into drinking water. Shield and Conexus tackled the toilet situation in India by proposing toilet cubicles which limit the bacteria spread and transform human waste into bio-energy.

Team H2All bagged the prize last December 3, having developed a compact and user-friendly device to purify water that generates chlorine, a chemical which kills bacteria in drinking water. H2All also developed a toolkit and indicator to monitor the content of chlorine in water. “There is a lot of mixed feelings, when it comes to the presentations and seen everyone prepared and nervous,” exclaimed Anna Carolina, one of the finalist with their team Conexus.

After having won the Internals Competition for the HULT Prize, H2All will propose this idea to countries which do not have access to clean and drinkable water. To start with, it will contact the local water agency in India, Madagascar, Algeria, Senegal, and Colombia.

The judges were Carlos Baradello, Federico Baradello, Sheryle Bolton, Prince Ghuman, Kati Kallins, Ted Ladd, David Lehr, Isabelle Lescent-Giles, Avery Lyford, Annalisa Belliss, Ben Cooper, Gert Christen, Dave Epstein, Jorge Zavala, David Stephens, Muhammad Yunus, Ileana Facchini, Mitch Shapiro, Shahand Esmaeili, Olivier Kaeser, and AC Ross.


Dubai Campus (by Eesha Fantu and Brenda Raez Solari)

HULT Dubai’s Internal Competition for the HULT Prize took place last November 26. Amazing ideas striving to change the world were presented from the 45 students, from MIB, MBA and EMBA programs presented 8 teams, 3 of them dropped off before the competition, leaving 5 teams, Genr8, Piezo, Sundrop, Phoenix Solar Case Charger and LightWay presenting their ideas. HULT alumni from MIC, MBA and EMBA programs showed its Power for Good in this first Hult Prize 2018 selection round.

With the judges of varying expertise, the diversity of experience was shared by Andrea Skerritt, Deepak Rajgopaul, Derek Carlson, Hans Henrik Christensen, Jose Jimenez, Karl W. Feilder, Michael Nates, Ross Daines, and Tena Pick.

The winning team was Genr8, a team formed by EMBA students with entrepreneurial, Engineering, Marketing and IT background. The team is formed by Abdullah Al Mansoob, Aitor Agirregabiria, Olivier Ruff and Mathapelo Mzizi. Genr8, a P2P energy exchange, involves a prosumer who owns solar panels and sells energy to its neighbor or a person in its community as opposed to selling it to the Grid.

Genr8 was the team selected to pass to the next round and they’re already working on launching the business idea to the market in the following months, using all its resources on researching, recruiting members, and interviewing potential investors that might be interested in support them. When asked what the next steps are, the members of Genr8 claimed, “We will also introduce smart meters to get exact consumption instead of estimates as for today work on measuring what is billed.” The team was confident in finding the right solutions to make the project work out. “We have been very fortunate to get this opportunity because will give us the chance to meet people with knowledge on Blockchain and find the right expertise to let us move us forward.”


Read the edited article posted at HULT News here. Had the great opportunity to collaborate with HULT global ambassadors from the different campuses as well.


Braving Winter, Surviving the Storm


People say that the Inuits have too many variations on the word snow. They say it’s too many because they cannot tell the difference between one word and another. There is a word for the blizzard that falls from the sky and another for the flurries that flutter gently along the ground. One for the snow that has melted and another for one mixed with rain. People find a way to say what they have to say, to find real words to mean real things. But I come from a tropical country where we only have one word for it — snow.

Sometimes I think freshly-fallen snow is harmless. Other times I think winter can’t be that harsh, or that its harshness will not allow me to bend and break. But the temperature drops to negative and all I want my mother to do is to remind me of warmth. I try to convince myself my first experience of winter will be perfect and breathtaking. But the cold months know there are things I cannot expect ahead of me.

Upon going to school, I see muddy roads from the snow, black ice, and slippery sidewalks. The dreariness of my surroundings makes me want to turn back and head home. When it’s not the cold or the snow that takes its toll on me, it’s the exhaustion from attending team meetings after a three-hour class, from finishing a 30-page business case after another that does. It makes me not have time for other things, to have not enough care from people who need it more. It makes me want to give up.

However, I’ve been taught not to be complacent with myself, to always strive more, do more, be more. But I figured that I have a skewed way of seeing things. When the challenges get difficult to overcome, life teaches me to realize I cannot do all these things alone. What’s harder is to learn how to give warmth to people around you when the world is telling you to toughen up, build walls high enough to protect yourself.

I try to squeeze in so many things to happen, to make the most out of the remaining warmth of the day before the sun sets and the night starts getting colder. But I chose to study at HULT in the heart of Boston after all; everyday life reminds me there is no turning back. There is only moving forward. Everyday I choose to brave the cold during the winter, and I know I am not the only one who does so.

It is true months of learning an entire module can be daunting. The requirements keep on pouring in and the meetings never seem to stop. But there is warmth in knowing there are people who care, classmates willing to share, friends ready to help. At HULT, the storms keep on coming, breaking one wall after another in my life. I do not worry about this, because it keeps me hoping that one day I’d be strong enough to brave whatever comes my way. This business school is teaching me to not be so hard on myself, but instead to forgive myself whenever I fall short in my expectations in class.

I’d have flown into warmer parts of the country during the holidays. While soaking myself in sunny California, I’ve watched my classmate’s Instagram stories on skiing, snowboarding, walking around the Commons covered in snow. When time permits us, maybe I’d ask my Filipino friends to go ice skating, perhaps have a snowball fight or two. I need to remind myself to be patient with learning, that there’s always time for everything when it comes to self-growth.  

Just as the Inuits can find different ways to express themselves to utter what snow is, I try to give utterances for learning experiences I cannot name. Winter can be wonderful and breathtaking and full of fun. But it can also be terrible and unforgiving. Whichever it is, the school has taught me that I can brace myself for what’s to come. More challenges will come sooner or later. I cannot run away from this winter but I know I’m ready to face it. 

Blog post as a Global Ambassador for the month of January. Had some help from Coco, my roommate.

Shifting Styles

“To change one’s writing is to replace one’s soul.” This was a statement I had scribbled on my notebook months before my first Christmas away from home. However, I could not exactly recall the circumstances upon which I wrote it. The way I had done so made the statement seem so emotionally grandiose and contrived and yet still true to some extent.

Being in the States had taken its toll on me ever since I arrived here five months ago. Having entered a business graduate school and having been totally removed from the literary world, I had become aware that some things were starting to slip away from me. I could not remember if Levertov wrote the poetics on line cuts or on prose-poems, or if the writer was a he or a she in the first place. Neither could I elaborate on what made an essay meander through its fragments. I could not even put my finger on what made me appreciate Louise Gluck’s poetry before or what made Joan Didion’s long-form essays worth the read. It was as if all those years of learning, of reading and writing literature, had vanished within such a short amount of time. But I would convince myself that I chose this. As if a Creative Writing graduate’s act of un-remembering could be so heartbreaking to the world and yet necessary, perhaps to move on with things bigger than writing itself.

It could be said that I was really meant to move away from the things I’ve grown fond of. Sometimes, it makes me think that it’s enough to learn for ourselves that what we thought we knew aren’t what they were in the perspective of others. I thought I knew more about the world through my reflections in my essays, but I was mistaken. All I knew was how I myself saw the world and nothing more beyond my irrelevant, insular, and self-serving gaze. I was highly-aware of the self-reflexivity I tried to put in all my essays, but it had not occurred to me that maybe that was not all there is to craft. This goes with a deeper reflection of my writing, and with it, my misunderstanding of it—what it has done so far for me, and what it has done to me.

I confess that my own writing has made me feel so isolated all along. Not because it told me to immerse myself in the sadness of my own experiences, rather because it required some sort of emotional distance from what I talked about. My writings were mostly about my family, my culture, my faith, and my own skewed opinions of them—commentaries which were highly-critical and factual but arguably true. In my works, my parents and I rarely talked about trivial things; we argued more on life choices and plans wherein I was wronged and dejected in every conversation. All this was because I never talked back. I made it seem like a was a naive victim and a misunderstood hero, a silent narrator worth the pity of her readers, but unreliable with emotions.

This conclusion did not come to me on my own; I woke up with a message from a fellow writer from the other side of the world on a winter morning. She wanted me to be honest with her with the way I viewed my writing nowadays. I told her that I had stopped revising every single draft I was planning to send out to literary publications, had refrained from opening the essay and poetry anthologies I happened to store in my suitcase. It did not concern me as much, particularly because I was more preoccupied with writing school campaigns as a brand ambassador and editing business reports with my team. Even the girls I lived with in the apartment suggested to me that I should give my parents a heart-to-heart talk—that I should tell them I’m having a hard time budgeting the allowance they send to me every month and not just sulk around from the lack of finances while isolating myself even more from everyone else.

It was difficult at first, pouring out my feelings to my parents the moment I told them I was not doing okay miles away from home. The hype of traveling and going abroad was suddenly gone; there was only fear and panic and the homesickness became all too real. One moment I was that brave wide-eyed tropical girl who flew into the States on her own and the next thing I knew I was no longer the 22-year-old who was curious and excited with the unexpected.

But it turned out that that was all my parents had to hear—that I needed help and that I had been wanting to reach out—so they could figure out how to make some changes for me. Bit by bit, I had become a bit more honest to my parents during my online conversations with them. And even if I weren’t one to solicit advice from people, I knew that I had to adjust with the way I would take a pen and a paper and jot down thoughts and ideas in the most dramatic way possible.

On some days I try to write once again with some fragments I collected since August. I remember crying during the take-off from Manila, how the scenery was changing and how the time difference grew longer as I sat on the plane for hours, away from people and their problems that never had the shortest solutions. I can remember now the first time I said Boston was beautiful, how it seemed to me a kind of reprieve for the pain of leaving home. I also remember that Jewish boy I kissed and held hands with (because he had eyes that changed color depending on the light), as well as that American-Italian boy I turned down one evening in Boston’s Chinatown after he had baked me and my roommates a tray of apple crisp. On the day after my first Thanksgiving, I also found myself wandering around New York City, scouring over bookshelves of The Strand and lingering in the oldest cafe in the country. Nothing more romantic came out of my detailed journaling, but I had numerous attempts of trying to describe the feeling of meeting new people, of discovering new sights and exploring new ideas. All without confining myself to the constraints of a literary mindset.

In short, without my writing to think about, I was more out there.

Less and less the shifting of styles mattered to me as the months went by. I would read the reading recommendations of my friend and roommate, no matter how much I used to disdain such writing because it was too abrupt, too formulaic and straightforward. I would edit a fellow writer’s piece accordingly, with the proper syntax and all, even if it weren’t the formal kind of English that I wanted to read. Perhaps a few months from now, I would visit once again the very first essay my writing mentor has ever sent me, and then perhaps hate it from now on, after having loved every line, every page of it for quite some time.

But this I would remind myself: the goal of an essayist is not to sell an idea or to market her own style—it is simply to understand and write how things fall into place. Turning away from my own kind of writing has taught me to care more about things and people apart from myself. No longer bound to the reading recommendations set by the academe, I am starting to accept that my writing may change because my mentor isn’t around anymore to criticize it. There is nothing else to mold the way I’m supposed to write, and to some extent, view the world, except through my own experiences, albeit full of mistakes and uncertainties. I may probably stop altogether once I realize this isn’t what I’m used to. Maybe go back again after taking a break. Whichever it is, I am fine with it.

Occasionally, I would call my parents for a video chat, tell them about the cold weather in Boston and how I’ve been adjusting to it, tell them a thing or two about the boys I’ve dated, and then perhaps tell them that the future is still up to me to decide.

But one thing I’m sure of: I will always be a writer. There is this kind of sentimentality paired with the discipline that never fades within writers even if three, five, ten years has passed. I will always be a writer, and no matter what, I’m going to hold on to that small reminder, that small fleeting gesture of hope, that my writing, always in response to my current state of mind, is changing with respect to the demands of time.

HULT-Boston holds Career Boot Camp for students


Business graduate students today are more equipped with the technical skills needed in many high-functioning industries, but many are still lost in getting to their intended career path. By equipping the students with the necessary career development preparations for their future, HULT International Business School has organized the first Career Boot Camp for the academic year of 2017.

Initially thought of as a disciplined form of military training, a Career Boot Camp is nowhere near that strict. Although intensive all throughout the day, it is a rigorous preparation for creating one’s personal brand and image, introducing oneself to the market, and practicing one’s pitch during networking.

The Boston campus held its Boot Camp last October 13 with its students from the MIB, MFin, MIM, and MBA programs. The morning sessions catered to the theme of “Product: Me” wherein the students were asked to assess their own values, skills, motivators, and mission statement. Careers advisors facilitated the entire process, bridging the first session to the second one in the afternoon that held the theme of “Brand: Me.”

The whole-day event capped off with a talk on networking from professional speaker and coach Jaymin J. Patel. In his talk, Patel strongly encouraged his audience to practice conducting meaningful conversations when building networks. “But most of all, be authentic,” says Patel who also published his first book on networking.

What proved to be a genuine success for the event were the students’ takeaways from it. “[T]he last talk from Jaymin Patel about ‘networking like a rockstar’ [was particularly interesting for me],” says Tejal Cheekhooree, MIB student from Mauritius,”It actually made me understand the true meaning of networking and how to do it. This will greatly influence my networking skills which can help me a lot in the future.” On the other hand, Bahyt Kuntuarova, MIM student from Kazakhstan, wants to make use of the learnings in the Boot Camp in her future interactions with employers and in a deeper understanding of herself.

As an international business school that focuses on the personal development of its students, HULT believes that by incorporating their takeaways with the HULT DNA the students may be more confident in building relationships and pursuing the career paths they want for themselves.

(Photos by Rodrigo Castro and Reina Adriano)

This was the original version of the article I submitted as a Global Ambassador before the editor had to merge this with that of the other campuses. Feel free to read the final version here.


I assumed getting accepted into HULT was exactly what I needed to reimagine old perspectives. Do not expect great business ideas in my application; there was no telling where the need to be in Boston simply began for me. Neither how the inevitable question of leaving or staying in the Philippines led to a point in which I had to choose the former. Nothing was profound with the things I did–what I only had was a bucketlist of adventures or experiences to try, a string of possibilities that I’ve been waiting for to happen. Before then, there was little room in my mind for making big changes in the future or of helping my country in grandiose ways. At times I would entertain these kinds of hope, but I would say that such dreams did not really make me believe that I could become someone worth listening to, much more someone likely to make an impact on the world.

It would take me a while to reach a conclusion of what studying abroad is all about, more so of being in a business school where every student had a different nationality. Truth be told, sometimes I felt even guilty of being part of the global generation. I would spend less on my own, interact less with people who have more than I do. Privilege apparently did not make me believe that I deserved such opportunity. In the first few months of my stay, I was going out almost all the time, wanting to visit one place in Boston after another, trying out too many things. There was nothing bad in of itself.  Such responsibility put so much weight on my shoulders that I started brushing it off. But when one indulges too much, one tends to forget her sense of direction, and with it, the need to build genuine connections with people.

It had not occurred to me that being part of the global generation also meant taking care of one’s own roots. I figured I was trying to imbibe as many different cultures as possible, of painting myself a new face after another, shedding away old-fashioned habits not a lot of people would understand. It was like holding too many strings of connections together only to find myself deeply entangled in a multitude of knots. I happened to neglect the people I care about and only talked to those who initiated conversations with me. The wide-eyed girl from a tropical country was no longer wide-eyed anymore. Ignorance matched with immaturity could be the perfect excuse, but I taught myself to be responsible for my own mistakes.

If only I could express what it’s like flying in to the States all by myself, how sad and overwhelmed and confused I was at the same time. But I reached a conclusion upon that sudden realization that being in Boston alone will not solve my problems. Up until then, I had always assumed that being in the global generation meant exploring as many cultures as possible. I was aware that different backgrounds provided the cultural diversity people had been talking about. Every day I try to remind myself that where I currently live is the closest thing I have to a home, that the girls I live with are the closest to what I could call family. Time in passing has also taught me to accept the possibility that an education abroad cannot change the status of my country anytime soon. But it has also given me the hope that maybe one day it can.

The global generation doesn’t start from knowing different cultures all at the same time; it starts from knowing yourself. I look at the connections I’ve made with people, of strings I’ve tangled and untangled again and again, perhaps giving myself the assurance that I can always fix loose ends. ##

Blog post as a HULT Ambassador for the month of November. I still have more to work on to make it into a polished piece.

Update: Already posted in HULT News. Read it here.

Poetry reads on a Thursday



Today is a crash course on moving gently.
How to take a gift from someone so gingerly
they believe they still have it. If you move
soft enough through the wind or woods,
they say the sun will make a space for you.
Some of your regrets might soften. I move
terribly. I crush twigs and spiders but the horses
say nothing of it; they let me pet their long manes.
I hop on and we walk out to the end of wanting.
What is God? I ask them. They tell me, Yes.

From AGNI. Apparently it is based in Boston (Boston University, to be exact, where Robert Pinsky teaches). Truth be told, I miss reading poetry and talking about it with people.


Sidewalk Business


In the Philippines, people make business on the sidewalks. Concrete pavements make the transaction easier, dusty roads and polluted air even faster. I watch those who come and go. There in one corner stands the mango peddler. Somewhere else is the cigarette vendor whom I refused a stick from. I know a man, a carpenter or a plumber (I have forgotten), who wants to repair things that are broken. But he goes for a construction job; repairing broken things is not enough to feed his family. So he’s out on the streets too, covering manholes and putting plasters on bridges.

Not all business happens along the sidewalks: there are people who sign contracts in coffee shops, some who shake hands with others at their own desks. There are those who rarely see the pavement because their offices are found up high in skyscrapers. At times I tell myself, I want to be like these people—to live like them, to work like they do. Perhaps this is why I went for a business program at HULT; then again, perhaps not. I write about people who deal with day-to-day business, even more on the people who do it on the sidewalks. This I know: a lot more deals are sealed where lint and grime meet in the open.

My background is anything else but business, which means I must find a way to connect the dots, to make sense of where I’m going. Maybe create a path where a lot of things can happen and where a lot of things are already happening I can easily get lost. I finished my undergraduate in Math and Creating Writing; these are my sidewalks, where I see myself immersed in the world around me. An unusual combination, as many people would say. Even more unusual, I think, now that I went for a graduate school in International Business.

My father wanted his eldest daughter away from these sidewalks. He suggested I take my master’s degree while I’m young and unburdened by other commitments. I think he’s right. Every morning, I read the reports on the stock market in my country, understand how one news affects another. When things get confusing, I stick to simple routines, in hopes that one day it would matter in the greater scheme of things. I write my analysis on these charts and numbers on a journal, pretend business cases are stories with conflicts and the manager is a protagonist in need of a resolution. Sometimes believe the line cuts, the rhymes and rhythms, are essential to marketing strategies. When words do not make sense, I dive into numbers, make remarks on the statistics in my country: how many people are homeless or unemployed, how many have to live with business on the sidewalks.

At HULT International Business School, I try to learn business ideas from people with different backgrounds and contexts. Grasp their cultures when making deals. Hope that I can make solid and sincere connections with students all over the world. Understand that what may work in another country may not work in mine. Try again after an attempt and be more open to possibilities. Because often times the voice of one isn’t enough and I know this all too well.

I am now miles away from the Philippines. But in every elevator pitch I say, or with every person I shake a hand of, I always remember the sidewalks, those who put their business on it every day, and those who don’t. I cannot promise when I’ll do great things to help them. But for now, all I can do is this: immerse myself into business, understand its language, and realize how the world poses challenges to different people—to those who are making business in concrete pavements and dusty roads, and to the one who tries to make use of both words and numbers.

Submitted this for my Global Ambassador blog post for the month of October. This is the closest thing I have to an essay these past few weeks. I’ve been trying to pitch my social entrepreneurship idea to some people for the HULT Business Challenge, but considering I’m currently in Boston and I want to launch the project here first, I may have to do some modifications.

Update: It has been published on the HULT News with some variations. Read and if possible, share.