Generate an appropriate single-sentence summary for the given text such that it includes the main topic of the text.

[EX Q]: The Oscar-nominated star of Can You Ever Forgive Me? is a lifelong fan of the US actress and singer. On social media on Tuesday, Grant shared his childhood letter, in which he offered Streisand a "two-week holiday, or longer" at his family home. Streisand replied to the tweet, thanking Grant for the "wonderful letter" he sent when he was 14. Grant first sent the letter to the US star when he was growing up in Swaziland, which is now called eSwatini. He shared it on social media on Tuesday, alongside a photograph of himself outside Streisand's home in California. In the letter, Grant wrote: "You don't know me yet, but I am writing to offer you an idea you might like to consider. My name is Richard and I live in a small African kingdom called Swaziland in south-east Africa." He told her his family had been avid fans since seeing her Oscar-winning performance in the 1968 film Funny Girl, and owned all her records. "I read in the paper that you were feeling very tired and pressurised by your fame and failed romance with Mr Ryan O'Neal. I would like to offer you a two week holiday, or longer, at our house, which is very beautiful with a pool and a magnificent view of the Ezulwini Valley." 'Hasty reply' He continued: "No-one will trouble you and I assure you you will not be mobbed in the street as your films only show in our one cinema for three days, so not that many people will know who you are, so no chance of being mobbed. Please consider this respite seriously. You will always be welcome." Grant signed off his letter "in anticipation of a hasty reply" - but he did not receive one at the time. He found fame as an actor 15 years later in Withnail & I, and finally got a response to his letter on Tuesday when Streisand replied to his tweet. The Oscar, Grammy, Emmy and Tony Award-winning star thanked Grant for his "wonderful letter" and called him "terrific" in his latest film. Grant, who's now 61, shared his tearful response to Streisand's tweet. The actor said he was "overcome with emotion" and called the moment "My 'Message in a bottle' miracle". Grant was nominated for his first Oscar last week, for best supporting actor in the biographical crime drama Can You Ever Forgive Me? The exchange between Grant and Streisand has received a warm response from Twitter users. They included Absolutely Fabulous actress Julia Sawalha, who starred alongside Grant in a series of adverts from 2002. Follow us on Facebook, on Twitter @BBCNewsEnts, or on Instagram at bbcnewsents. If you have a story suggestion email entertainment.news@bbc.co.uk.
[EX A]: Actor Richard E Grant was moved to tears after Barbra Streisand replied to a letter he sent her 47 years ago.

[EX Q]: By James LandaleDiplomatic correspondent They will be drawn to the UK's capital for the organisation's biennial heads-of-government summit, known by its inelegant acronym, CHOGM. It will be an enormous jamboree, with most of the Commonwealth's 53 leaders expected to attend - the largest number ever - in honour, perhaps, of Her Majesty the Queen, whose last CHOGM this is likely to be now that her travelling days are coming to an end. And with the leaders and their spouses will come the officials and protection officers, the charity workers and think-tankers, the lobbyists and journalists, and all the other hangers-on in this riotous caravan of global diplomacy. But to what end? For what purpose will these many thousands gather for what some officials estimate will be the largest summit ever held in London? Still relevant? For many of the 2.4 billion people who live in the Commonwealth, the organisation plays little role in their lives. They might know it as a post-imperial club, a body that holds global sporting events such as the games in Australia that have been going on over the past two weeks. Or perhaps they have family or personal connections with another Commonwealth country. But even those with a keen awareness of the international organisation might struggle to explain what relevance it had to their daily lives. Yet the Commonwealth includes about a third of the world's people. It forms layer upon layer of intermingling networks of professional, sporting, business and cultural groups. It provides a forum for co-operation between nations, a bastion - at least in theory - of the democratic, rules-based international order, with the English language and legal system forming a core denominator for many countries. And it is an organisation that the Queen values highly and has fought to protect during her long reign. So why is a body that has so much potential so much in the shade? One reason, perhaps, is that it has always been in search of a role. This is a Commonwealth of nations that was united at first by nothing more than a past membership of the British Empire. Shared experience is one thing but it is rarely a foundation for future co-operation, particularly when that shared experience was distant, at times painful and not of mutual benefit. The Commonwealth has also often been divided between what historically had been seen as the white, Anglocentric nations - "the ABCs" as they are known after Australia, Britain and Canada - and the African members, and the many small island countries. And these divisions have at times been deep, not just between wealth and geography but also between culture and values. Let us not forget that 36 of the 53 countries retain legislation that criminalises homosexuality. Trading vision CHOGM this week will undoubtedly be overshadowed by events in Syria. But beneath the diplomacy and ceremony, there will also be some tough questions about what the Commonwealth is for in the 21st Century. And many countries will bring different answers and agendas. Some British politicians look to the Commonwealth as a post-Brexit lifeboat, a multilateral organisation through which they can improve trade links outside the EU. And why not use this shared language, law and regulatory commonality to boost trade? Supporters point to what they call "the Commonwealth effect", the idea that trade between members is cheaper and easier. The Commonwealth Secretariat estimates that bilateral trade between members costs about 19% less than global averages. But while the British Empire was initially a trading empire, the Commonwealth is a different beast. And some members might resent being showered with love by a country that has often seemed to ignore the Commonwealth while its geopolitical and economic focus was on Europe. Many Commonwealth countries opposed Brexit. Some fear they will find it harder to access British markets. Others worry they will lose a powerful advocate for their rights around the EU table. After Brexit, the only Commonwealth countries remaining in the EU will be Cyprus and Malta. Indian influence Other countries see the Commonwealth as an international club with huge soft power potential. Take India. For years it has been a restrained member of the Commonwealth, despite being one of its largest economies and containing about half its population. India was one of the eight founder members but it was the only one which did not count the Queen as its head of state. It has always been cautious about engaging fully with the offspring of an empire that rendered its countrymen subject to British rule. But now India appears full of enthusiasm. Narendra Modi will attend CHOGM, the first Indian prime minster to do so for almost a decade. Indian diplomats are suddenly appearing at Commonwealth events and meetings. Officials say this is because India sees the Commonwealth as an organisation through which it can project influence within Asia - this one club that India's great rival, China, cannot join. The UK seems willing to play along with this. British diplomats say that one way the Commonwealth could thrive, and - yes - survive, as a credible international organisation would be to embrace India. To that end, the UK appears ready to contemplate greater decentralisation, with India possibly taking greater responsibility for the Commonwealth's trade co-operation. But is this what the rest of the Commonwealth wants - to swap Anglo-centrism for Delhification? If you are from a developing African country or a small island nation in the Pacific, is this how you see the future of the organisation? Introspection and uncertainty Many of the smaller nations, for example, are looking to the Commonwealth to help them tackle the climate change that threatens them with rising sea levels and extreme weather events. We may be horrified by the growing tides of plastic floating across our oceans but to many island nations this poses an explicit danger to their maritime and tourist economies. The Commonwealth could help in a tangible and practical way to share best practice and form coalitions to protect these members from this environmental threat. Underlying this latest bout of Commonwealth introspection is the largely unspoken uncertainty about what happens when the Queen's reign comes to an end. There is a lack of clarity because it is not automatic that the Queen's heir, the Prince of Wales, will replace Her Majesty at the head of the Commonwealth. The decision is entirely in the gift of the heads of government at the time. This CHOGM will be a forum to discuss - sotto voce - what should happen. The British government appears ready to allow just enough debate to ensure that Prince Charles is established as the de facto heir apparent. But the UK equally does not want this to become a distracting row that could embarrass the Queen - something shadow international development secretary Kate Osamor has made a forlorn hope. She told The House magazine bluntly that the role should not be taken up by Prince Charles but by someone who was "level-headed, someone people respect". This matters not just because officials want to ensure a smooth transition, but also because the Queen has been so central to the Commonwealth that her absence could create a vacuum. Her leadership has been part of the glue that has held this organisation together. The risk is that without her, the Commonwealth could come unstuck. Hence the need, once again, for the Commonwealth to change and find a new role for the 21st Century.
[EX A]: This week thousands of people will descend on London from all corners of the world, pilgrims coming to worship at the altar of post-colonial multilateralism that is the Commonwealth of Nations.

[EX Q]: "Kill him. We must kill him," young men are shouting, brandishing machetes and knives. These angry men are militiamen, calling themselves "anti-balaka". They took up arms, they say, to defend the Christian population. But they have now turned into lynch mobs. They have just found their prey - a Muslim man, whom they accuse of having fought with the Seleka forces who seized power last year. Covered in amulets and talismans, which they believe will make them invincible, they all want to have a go at him. Blood is trailing from the back of his head already, as he keeps being shoved. "Seleka killed our families like animals, we have to kill him," one of the militiaman says. Another one runs closer and whips him. After several failed attempts, he manages to escape, but he is quickly cornered again in a side street in the town of Bozoum, 400km (250 miles) north-west of the capital, Bangui. Warning shots "We have suffered terribly but I can't accept that we should kill as a result," a woman comes to tell us. "They should hand him over to Misca [the African Union peacekeeping mission] instead." Two Cameroonian soldiers force their way through the scrum, automatic rifles forward. The man is finally extracted; the peacekeepers are dragging him toward their base down the road. Dozens of militiamen are following them at a steady pace, some protest, shouting that they shouldn't be prevented from what they "have to do." The anger is rising and the peacekeepers are almost encircled. One of them has no other choice, he pulls the trigger pointing toward the sky. Only the gun makes a difference in front of these lynch mobs. It will take another burst of warning shots to keep the anti-balaka at a safe distance. "If you cross this line, we will shoot you," the AU team leader screams, leaving a horizontal trace with his foot on the dirt road. There are 11 AU soldiers here. They have prevented a man from being killed - but can they save the next one? Unleashed to kill Men with machetes strapped to their trousers or wearing belts of ammunitions for their homemade guns are all over the town, we bump into them every few metres. Seleka forces left the town of Bozoum on Monday. Since then, the anti-balaka keep pouring out of the forest. They are on the hunt, unleashed to kill and seeking "revenge". On Wednesday night, some of them attacked the house of imam Ahmad Mohamed. We had heard a volley of gunfire. As we meet the imam at his house the morning after, he explains that his quick call to the AU soldiers saved him and his family. "In 40 years here, I have never seen that," he says. "But the violence is out of control, we don't have a choice, we must leave or get killed." 'We live in fear' More than 1,000 Muslims were evacuated this week. Those, like imam Mohamed, who had thought they could stay, now say there is no more alternative. They are waiting for a military convoy - organised by the Chadian army most likely - to come and escort them all the way to Chad. A fearful countdown has started. Perched on a hill, the Catholic mission is holding a last church service for the displaced people it has hosted since early December. Time seems up for some, but for the displaced Christians, the departure of the Seleka forces may allow them safe passage back to their neighbourhoods. Many have lost relatives, and the church became their only sanctuary. "We've had enough, we want to go home," says Martien Yeremanda as he starts walking down the hill, a wooden bench with pots and basins on it swaying on his head. His brother was hit in his chest by a poisoned arrow and died during the violence last month. "An international force must come to protect us because we live in fear." The 3,500 Christian people who had chosen to camp out by the church returned home on Thursday, but they were not sure of what they would find. On the roads north and south of Bozoum, villagers have nowhere to return; they are still hiding in the forest. We immediately understood why as we drove outside the town. We saw the signs of the brutality they have faced: Every single house on either side of the road has been burned down. An estimated 1,300 homes were torched in two days last week, hours before the former Seleka's Michel Djotodia stepped down as interim president. Jerome Ngaina is returning to his village, Bokongo, for the first time. A group of anti-balaka militiamen - the only ones to venture around here - give him the local greeting; they gently touch foreheads together, and pat his head. Mr Ngaina worked at the parish before he was captured last week, beaten and held for three days, deprived of water and food. Like in all others in the village, there is nothing left in his house but cold ashes. The man who negotiated his release is an Italian priest, Father Aurelio Gazzera. After 22 years in this country, he has seen rebellions and coups, but he is now dealing with unprecedented sectarian violence. He is extremely worried that the worst may still happen. "It is possible to avoid it but it will be more and more difficult, and the margins are getting very narrow," he says. "Especially now that the former Seleka forces have left, it was clear that we were going to need a deployment of military forces to protect both communities, avoid the looting and attacks of anti-balaka fighters, and quickly disarm them all." Vigilantes Without a stronger international force around, he may be the last chance of mediation between the communities here. He's been driving around kilometres of land outside Bozoum to meet hundreds of anti-balaka fighters. He addresses them fluently in the local language, Sango. When he convinced the Chadians and the AU force to force the Seleka combatants out of Bozoum earlier this week, his car was stoned and he was nearly killed by Muslim civilians who were scared that they would lose protection. Other Muslims praise his courageous attempt to ease inter-communal tensions, and it was a Muslim man who saved him. On the road back to Bozoum, a group of anti-balaka comes out of the bush to stop our car. They have become Christian vigilantes and they are determined. Father Aurelio talks to them under an imposing mango tree. A few meters away from him though, these fighters speak their mind more freely. Flanked by two other fighters wearing rice bags for masks, a militiaman warns the Muslims. "If they don't leave, we will continue fighting and we will chase them," he tells me.
[EX A]:
As sectarian violence continues in the Central African Republic, the BBC's Thomas Fessy writes of his encounter with a lynch mob in the north-western town of Bozoum.

