How a dogged 83-year-old shook up Singapore’s health system

Getting old and paying for healthcare is an increasing worry for many people around the world, but the elderly in Singapore could be forgiven for thinking their country had it sorted. After all, its healthcare system ranks among the best in the world, delivering basic, affordable treatment for those who qualify. And this is not all on the taxpayer, either, with individuals paying an initial amount and then a national health insurance scheme kicking in.

The compulsory health insurance scheme, called Medishield Life, was introduced in 2015 to help cope with the needs of a rapidly ageing population, with families worried about the large medical bills that can arise with a loved one becoming frail.

But the recent case of 83-year-old Mr Seow Ban Yam revealed that for some, the worry had not gone away. He was shocked by a medical bill well over a thousand dollars higher than he expected, and for which he received only a S$4.50 (US$3.24) insurance payment. The bill was for treatment at the Singapore National Eye Centre (SNEC).

The normally mild-mannered Mr Seow took it upon himself to challenge the bill, writing to hospital authorities and insurance administrators to get to the bottom of the issue.

However, the explanations, which essentially said no mistake had been made, merely confused him further. That’s because the maximum amount that he could claim under for his surgery was S$2,800, yet he was charged S$3,664  by the public institution (after taking into account government subsidies).

The puzzled retiree, worried that maybe it was he who had got his sums wrong, contacted The Straits Times in a neat, handwritten letter saying:

“Hopefully, you can find my case worth looking into, not only for myself, but also for the sake of the many people like me who otherwise are not aware of what a Medishield Life claims entails.

“We all think that Medishield Life is to subsidise large hospital bills. It is only when one goes through some kind of operation will one know it may not be true.”

What The Straits Times discovered thanks to Mr Seow shocked even those in the upper echelons of the Ministry of Health – that at least one public health institution had raised fees to levels much higher than those covered by the national health insurance scheme.

In Mr Seow’s case, the reason for his paltry insurance payout was that the subsidised bill from the SNEC was 50 per cent higher than the claim limit for that procedure.

The wider implication was that thousands of patients in Singapore were probably finding themselves in the same situation each year as Mr Seow, facing bills from public institutions which were higher than what the government allows MediShield Life to cover.

As a result of Mr Seow’s determination and the newspaper’s inquiries, the issue was raised in Parliament in January this year (2019).

The government has now decided to review national health insurance claim limits every three years instead of five.

And there was more good news for those who rely that the system will deliver basic, affordable healthcare – in March, the SNEC cut its fees for 20 procedures by between 15 and 32 per cent. This could reduce each bill by up to several hundred dollars for about 14, 500 procedures done a year at that institution.

What The Straits Times discovered thanks to Mr Seow shocked even those in the upper echelons of the Ministry of Health – that at least one public health institution had raised fees to levels much higher than those covered by the national health insurance scheme.

WHY IT MATTERED

What got Mr Seow so riled up and made the issue such a talking point was that when Medishield Life was introduced, the trade-off for making it compulsory was that the government made a promise: lower-income people now need never fear having to foot big medical bills entirely themselves for treatment at public hospitals.

The aim was that 90 per cent of patients would have 90 per cent of their bills covered, beyond an initial amount – which insurers call a “deductible” – and co-payment over that.

But Mr Seow’s complaint led to the discovery that, in the years since Medishield Life was launched, coverage had in fact dropped to 80 per cent of fully subsidised bills.

And these are patients who need a helping hand – about a third of 4 million Singapore residents rely entirely on MediShield Life for their health insurance. The rest can afford policy add-ons from the private sector.

HOW THE PROBLEM CAME TO LIGHT

So how did Mr Seow, who is retired and lives in a subsidised government apartment, end up caught between high medical fees and low insurance payout, sending him on the road to being an unlikely healthcare hero for the needy?

It all began in 2017 when he went to the Singapore National Eye Centre for two operations involving unblocking his tear ducts in both eyes in preparation for cataract surgery. He certainly wasn’t prepared for the financial shock that followed.

Mr Seow knew he would have to pay 10 per cent of the bill after the deductible, which is capped at S$3,000 a year, but only expected to only fork out a total of S$3,148 himself. However, he ended up paying S$4,472.30 – a figure S$1,329 more than he had anticipated. To a retiree, this is no small sum.

The main problem was that the bill was S$1,472 over the claim limit of S$3,005 including room and board as well as the operation. The latter alone was limited to S$2,800. This capped amount is stated in the Ministry of Health’s (MOH) table for surgical procedures, though there is no explanation how the amount is arrived at.

Said Mr Seow: “The whole idea of MediShield Life is to meet heavy bills. I don’t understand why it is limited to S$2,800 when the bill is more than S$4,000. This defeats the purpose of insurance.”

Mr Seow Ban Yam, a subsidised patient who went for an eye surgery at the Singapore National Eye Centre (SNEC).
Source: Chong Jun Liang

Another was that while S$3,005 was claimable, as Mr Seow is over 80, the insurance scheme requires him to pay the deductible amount of S$3,000 himself. As for the remaining $5, the helping hand of Medisave Life paid the 90 per cent, alright – a grand sum of S$4.50. Mr Seow’s 10 per cent co-payment was still required, of 50 cents.

Fortunately, Mr Seow did not need to take out a bank loan for the overall big bill – he could pay the amount from a long-established scheme the government operates where workers pay into designated savings accounts that include a healthcare one called MediSave.

In January, addressing ST’s report over Mr Seow’s plight, Senior Minister of State for Health Edwin Tong not only announced more regular reviews of claim limits that cap national health insurance coverage, but also promised: “We will continue to review, refine and strengthen MediShield Life and other components of our public healthcare financing system, and just as importantly, manage our healthcare costs to ensure that public healthcare remains affordable for all Singaporeans.”

As for Mr Seow, his dogged pursuit of his SNEC bill will benefit those who undergo similar procedures: in particular, patients who need the same surgery as him – called dacryocystorhinostomy (duct drainage surgery) – as well as procedures such as glaucoma surgery with implant and retinal detachment surgery, “will see subsidised bill sizes lowered by an average of 25 per cent”, said a spokesman for the centre..

And what of the amount that Mr Seow had to cover himself? SNEC has since offered Mr Seow a goodwill payment of S$1,300 – or near the amount MediShield Life would have covered if the entire bill had been within the limits set.

This story is a compilation of a series of articles by Salma Khalik published by The Straits Times from Dec 31, 2018 to Jan 16.


BEHIND THE STORY
On discovering Mr Seow’s plight, StraitsTimes senior health correspondent Salma Khalik spent four months probing the gap between Singapore’s health insurance claim limits and subsidised fees charged by public health institutions. Not only did her coverage spur debate in Parliament about the adequacy of national healthcare insurance in January 2019, it led to the government’s decision to review national health insurance claim limits every three years instead of five. The 83-year-old patient in the centre of the issue was also delighted to hear that the Singapore National Eye Centre’s (SNEC) decision to review and adjust its charges. “This will help many other people,” he said.

Taking down a drug mule syndicate

In a crowded shopping mall in Kuala Lumpur, 16-year-old Shirley* (not her real name) met with two men she had never seen in her life. They gave her a flight ticket to Hong Kong, and RM2,000 (US$474.32) in spending money. A friend she had met on Facebook, 15 years old at the time, had arranged the trip, telling her it was a free holiday. He had gone several times before, and even brought souvenirs back for her.

On the morning of her flight, one of the men showed up again and gave her and another fellow traveller a pair of shoes each. They were asked to wear them to Hong Kong.

Hours later, her life as she knew it was over. After arriving at Hong Kong International Airport, she was picked out for a body search, and 700g of heroin were found in the soles of the shoes.

In the past year, nearly 30 young Malaysians – some still teenagers – have been arrested in Hong Kong for being drug mules on behalf of international syndicates; and experts say the arrest numbers are just a fraction of those who actually make it through.

For Shirley’s parents back in Malaysia, the nightmare was only just beginning. For nearly two months, they had no idea what had happened to her. The last time they saw Shirley, their only child, she was begging them to let her go to Hong Kong with her friends. She was only supposed to be gone for three days.

Her parents searched everywhere – the airport, the police, hospitals – and found nothing. They couldn’t eat or sleep, and yet, as the owners of a small business, they had to continue working each day to survive.

And then came a phone call which gave them fear and relief in equal measure. It was from Hong Kong Correctional Services – their daughter was facing over 20 years in prison on drug trafficking charges. Ever since that moment, Shirley’s parents have been working frantically and desperately to prove their daughter’s innocence. But Shirley is not alone.

In the past year, nearly 30 young Malaysians – some still teenagers – have been arrested in Hong Kong for being drug mules on behalf of international syndicates; and experts say the arrest numbers are just a fraction of those who actually make it through.

With drug production in South-East Asia’s infamous “Golden Triangle” region hitting record highs in the past year, the number of mules being recruited to transport drugs could grow even higher across Asia, and Malaysia – the region’s low-cost airline hub – appears to be the perfect transit country.

Drug syndicates operating in Malaysia have been using Facebook pages and WeChat groups with devastating effect, luring impressionable young people with “paid holidays” (like the one Shirley went for) or part-time courier jobs. Some openly say the job involves drugs.

If the mules get arrested, they are left to rot in prison while the syndicates get off scot-free. All communications are done using fake profiles on chat apps, so the recruiters can’t be traced.

Posing as a potential mule, a R.AGE undercover journalist (left) secures a meeting with a drug syndicate recruiter.
Source: R.AGE

After receiving a tip-off from a lawyer and a prison chaplain in Hong Kong, investigative journalists from R.AGE started looking into this increase in drug mule activity and working with the families of the arrested mules to find out more about the syndicates. Through its investigations in Malaysia and Hong Kong alone, the journalists were able to uncover syndicates which were sending mules to Vietnam, China, South Korea, Taiwan, the Middle East, Australia, and even as far as Brazil and Peru.

The team then went undercover, posing as potential drug mules to meet with the syndicates’ recruiters, in hopes of exposing their tactics – which range from friendly recruitment to brutal physical force. Little did they know, their investigations would eventually help expose a dangerous drug trafficking network, with connections to a dealer in Hong Kong.
But it all started with a series of prison visits in Hong Kong.

Shirley, now 18, told R.AGE her story from behind a glass panel at a Hong Kong prison. She was supposed to be graduating high school this year. Her Facebook page is full of photos of her and her friends from school. None of them know what happened. Only her parents and a few close relatives were clued in.

“I told her not to go,” said Shirley’s mother, her voice trembling as she spoke from their home, in a small town two hours south of Kuala Lumpur.

They haven’t moved anything in Shirley’s room, the bigger of the two rooms in their home. It’s also the only one with a window, so the parents offered it to her. “She’s such a sweet child – her grandmother’s favourite, and popular with all her schoolmates – but she started mixing with these ‘friends’ on Facebook, and now they’ve ruined her life.

“She begged me to let her go with them. I felt bad because we never had the money to bring her for a holiday overseas, but I still said no. In the end, we just couldn’t stop her,” said the mother.

Her parents, too, had never been on a plane. Despite surviving on a combined RM3,000 a month, they spent almost all their savings making two trips to see Shirley in Hong Kong, desperate to find evidence that could help her case before she is sentenced.

“I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I just cry myself to sleep every night thinking about her,” said the mother. “Just one trip – her first time on a plane,” said her father ruefully. “Look what it has done to us.”

“I believe I was set up (to be arrested),” said Shirley. “I was the one to take the fall. Why else would they only plant 700g on me? That seems like a very small amount.”

Shirley has not heard from the 15-year-old friend who recruited her. He was on the same trip, but on an earlier flight. As far as she knows, he’s back in Malaysia, safe and sound. Other mules tell us it’s a common diversionary tactic – keep the authorities busy with one or two arrests, while the majority pass through.
“I believe I was set up (to be arrested),” said Shirley. “I was the one to take the fall. Why else would they only plant 700g on me? That seems like a very small amount.”

Proving that in court, however, seemed an almost impossible task for her parents. The syndicate had burned all traces of their involvement, and the parents didn’t have enough money to hire a lawyer.

Although Shirley eventually pleaded guilty to avoid trial, the group of undercover journalists’ investigation behind this story put a dent in local drug syndicates’ operations by exposing their mule recruitment methods.Their work has helped raise awareness about Father John Wotherspoon’s work, a prison chaplain from Hong Kong on a mission to expose drug mule recruiters in Malaysia before they ruin any more lives. With the help of corroborative intel from Father Wotherspoon and families of incarcerated drug mules, a drug lord dubbed as Shanker was detained under the Special Preventive Measures by narcotics officers in February.

Another three senior figures in his syndicate were arrested as well. However, much remains to be done, like many others the teenage recruiter who made Shirley a drug mule is still at large.

* All names have been changed to protect the identity of the families involved.

This story by Ian Yee and Shanjeev Reddy was originally published by R.AGE, the Star on June 24.


BEHIND THE STORY
Drug syndicates operating out of the infamous Golden Triangle in Myanmar have been flooding Asia with record levels of synthetic drugs, with Malaysia a strategic transit point — particularly for the recruitment of innocent young mules. Undercover journalists from The Star’s R.AGE team followed the trail of information left by the mules and their devastated families to track down the syndicates’ recruiters, and found enough information to help Malaysian narcotics officers make several arrests, crippling at least one drug mule network. Their work, which included a hidden camera sting operation on a mule recruiter, helped stem the tide of Malaysian drug mule arrests in Hong Kong — another strategic transit point for drug trafficking, according to experts. It also helped create widespread awareness about the drug mule syndicates’ recruitment strategies. In the months after R.AGE’s investigations, there were zero Malaysian mule arrests reported in Hong Kong, according to one activist; compared to the over two dozen that had been arrested in the nine months before. Then, on May 2019, another two arrests emerged. R.AGE is now working with the arrested mules’ families to provide information that could help the mules’ cases in court, and is planning a follow-up campaign to tackle drug abuse.

Predators Around Us

Policing and courts alone can’t counter sexual harassment and abuse. The emotional complexity of such experiences as well as the family’s reluctance to discuss abuse make it hard for survivors, male or female, to speak up.

Yet an increasing number of survivors now want to put their experiences out in public – as long as their identity is not disclosed. This is their way of owning their experiences which, they say, helps to heal.

When Times of India’s Ambika Pandit started the series of first person accounts, she was flooded with responses from readers and motivated survivors to come forward to share their experiences buried for years.

This series of 10 survivor accounts shows that the trauma stays for years and often affects other relationships. Some of the survivors have not even been able to open up to their families.

In the first part of this series, a successful career woman in her early 40s explains that her confident facade hides scars of being harassed by an uncle, victimised by an alcoholic husband and raped by a stranger.

She tried to numb the pain with alcohol and drugs, but then chose to fight back. Now sober for nearly eight years, she says she still struggles for a life that’s ‘normal’.

‘I SPEAK SO THAT OTHERS WON’T SUFFER ALONE’

Years ago, a man raped me as his friends stood guard at what looked like a construction site near Dwarka. I was terrified. I was sure I would be killed.

As I waited in fear, another man threw my clothes at me, and said, “The man who raped you is the son of a politician from another state and he has a gun. He will kill you and I don’t want to be embroiled in a murder case so I have decided to help you escape.”

Rape was normal for these men.

He dropped me off where I lived. I dragged myself to the police station to lodge an FIR. A cop heard my story. He went on to ask me my name, address and father’s name.

The last (piece of information) made me back out. I realised that I could not tell my parents all this. They would not be able to take it.

My identity became my biggest challenge as I had a successful career as a communications professional. I was a single woman, a divorcee, 28 years old at that time, living alone in an upscale neighbourhood.

The stakes were high, so I chose silence over legal recourse. My rape is still a secret.

“Tu hi galat hogi (you must have done something wrong)”

Years later, I have forgotten the faces of those men in the SUV but when I hear of a rape case, I am unable to take it. Something inside me breaks every time.

There’s more. To this day I remember an uncle shutting the dressing room door to fiddle with my skirt. I was 12. I shouted. He let me go, but never let me be.

Every time we visited his house, he would hold me tight, touch me inappropriately, or switch to a porn movie if I was in the room. I was too scared to speak. In my late 30s, when I finally told my mother, her response shocked me.

She said: “Tu hi galat hogi (you must have done something wrong)”. This changed everything between us. I still love her but it was a turning point in our relationship.

I was not always an alcoholic. I married when I was 23, only to realise I was stuck with an alcoholic and a drug addict. I started drinking with him.

He beat me, I drank more; substance abuse became a way of life. I always wonder how such an educated man could beat such an educated woman. We divorced a year later.

When Times of India’s Ambika Pandit started the series of first person accounts, she was flooded with responses from readers and motivated survivors to come forward to share their experiences buried for years. Source: Times of India

I focused on my career but being single is not easy. I worked for a top corporate, and one day my boss asked for the keys to my house.

He said he wanted to rest and I could join him. Stunned by this open assault on my dignity, I threatened to go to the HR department. He said he’d give me a bad appraisal. I decided to be quiet. That was the biggest mistake.

He ruined my career anyway, and it was too late to go to HR. I wish I had acted earlier.

I hope my story will help others find their way. I was lucky to find help to battle alcoholism, the coping mechanism I’d fallen back on to deal with years of abuse.

Today, I have been sober for nearly eight years. I am in the midst of setting up a business. The wounds are healing. Normal feels good.

I have started writing and share my experience on various platforms, keeping my identity anonymous.

I speak here hoping that this coming out will help other women and girls. I want them to stand up for themselves and not suffer alone.

Caption: Survivors of sexual violence share their stories to help others open up, own and heal their trauma.
Source: Times of India

In the second account of the series, this 19-year-old Delhi University student speaks of repeated sexual assault she ensured from a cousin- an experience she still hasn’t been able to tell her parents about.

‘I CALLED HIM BROTHER, YET HE RAPED ME OVER AND OVER AGAIN’

I was too young to know how to protest, how to make my parents understand that I was being raped, again and again.

In villages, everyone knows everyone else, in fact most of us are related. My rapist was a distant cousin. He was in college; I wasn’t even 10 years old. I called him ‘bhaiya’ (brother), yet he raped me each time I went to his house in our village in Haryana.

My mother would send me to his house to buy milk. That’s when he’d rape me. At that age, I couldn’t understand what was happening but I knew it was not right.

I would protest when my mother asked me to get milk, but couldn’t muster the courage to tell her what was happening to me. Every time I refused to go she asked me why. Finally, she started going to get the milk herself.

My parents are still unaware of what I’ve faced. I know the consequences of having this conversation but I want to share my real name soon.

The abuse stopped when we moved to the city. A few years later, that cousin came visiting. He was married. I turned and ran to my room, and refused to come out. My parents scolded me for behaving badly.

My heart yearned to tell them but courage failed me again. I was around 12 at that time. I never saw him again.

Last year, after I joined college, I heard about a voluntary organisation that encouraged people to break their silence around sexual abuse and harassment. I joined the group.

Just being part of the group has made me realise that there are more people who have been sexually assaulted than I ever imagined.

In the group, I gained the confidence to speak, and with that came the conviction to question all that was wrong around me. Now, if I see someone staring, pushing or trying to grope someone, I shout at him to stop.

The sad part is that others don’t come forward to help or support. They just watch; this needs to change. Only if we rise collectively, can we hope to instil fear in the hearts and minds of those who sexually harass women.

We need to have these conversations not only to heal ourselves but also warn others of the dangers they face, and the action to take in such circumstances.

My parents are still unaware of what I’ve faced. I know the consequences of having this conversation but I want to share my real name soon. A beginning has to be made.

This story is a compilation of a series of articles published by the Times of India from July 2018 to Aug 2018. To read more click here

Sexual abuse on campus: 174 survivors across Indonesia speak up

“The road was quiet with only palm trees around and it was only two of us in his car when he began to caress my thigh and slip his hand under my bottom. I don’t know why but I couldn’t scream. I didn’t fight back because I was so scared. I was afraid he would get angry and he could do anything to me if I screamed. I could be killed. I didn’t want to die in vain,” said a student from a state university in Sumatra, recalling her chilling story of sexual abuse at the hands of her lecturer. She was going with him on a field trip to do research.

Her story is among 174 stories from survivors, which reveal that sexual harassment and abuse on campuses in Indonesia are widespread in 29 cities from the western to eastern parts of Indonesia, encompassing 79 state, private and religious-based universities.

Most of the survivors were female college students at the time of the alleged abuse, with seven being male.

The cities include Serang and Tangerang in Banten, Medan in North Sumatra, Makassar in South Sulawesi and Malang in East Java.

Many of the cases were not reported and those that were are mostly unresolved.

TIP OF THE ICEBERG

From Feb 13 to March 28, The Jakarta Post, Tirto.id and VICE Indonesia working in collaboration in a project called #NamaBaikKampus (CampusReputation) received 207 testimonies, of which 174 were alleged cases of sexual harassment.

Eighty-eight per cent of the survivors, who shared their stories on an online testimony form, come from universities in Java, with Semarang and Yogyakarta being named the two cities with the highest number of survivors who filled out the collaborative online form.

Yogyakarta and Semarang are home to Gadjah Mada University (UGM) and Diponegoro University (Undip), respectively, which have been named in high profile cases of alleged sexual abuse. There have been two cases at UGM, one of which went viral in November last year, in which a student, whose pseudonym is Agni, reported that she was sexually assaulted by a fellow student.

Last month, #NamaBaikKampus revealed a case at Undip, in which students testified that they were harassed by a male lecturer. The collaboration recorded a spike in testimonies coming from Undip after Tirto.id, the Post and VICE Indonesia published the story.

The National Commission on Violence against Women (Komnas Perempuan) said sexual abuse reports were usually the tip of the iceberg, with more reports meaning more survivors speaking up, but no reports from a certain institution does not mean there was no abuse at that institution.

Women and men march on International Women’s Day in Yogyakarta on March 8. Source: The Jakarta Post/Bambang Muryanto

HAPPENED ON- AND OFF-CAMPUS

Most of the survivors were female college students at the time of the alleged abuse, with seven being male.

Data compiled from their testimonies showed that 50 percent of the survivors said they had experienced sexual harassment multiple times, while the other 50 percent said it happened only once. They were harassed on- and off-campus by students and lecturers when going about their daily activities, during university events, internship programs, community service programs or when doing research.

In another story shared by a survivor, who was a medical student at an Islamic-based university in Central Java, she claims to have been harassed before an operation by a doctor during her internship at a hospital.

“He was sleeping in a resting room so I called him because the patient was ready for surgery. He then asked me to sit next him for a chit chat. He was my professor so I did what he asked me to do, I sat down. He then put his arms around me and tried to kiss me. I was so shocked I didn’t fight back; I just covered my face with my hands. Luckily, my friend suddenly opened the door, I got up and excused myself,” she told #NamaBaikKampus.

The medical student then told the story to her parents. Although they were angry, her parents decided not to do anything about it.

“We couldn’t do much. He is a doctor, a professor and the former director of that hospital,” she said.

Some survivors also reported being verbally harassed. One of them is a student at a Catholic university in West Java. She said a lecturer made a “joke” about susu, which can mean either milk or breasts, while pointing at her breasts in front of her friend and another lecturer.

TOO AFRAID TO REPORT THE CASES

Of 174 survivors, who shared their stories, 87 said they did not report the harassment to any authorities.

“I was still a student when the harassment took place. I’m afraid that [by reporting the case] the university would postpone my graduation because of this matter. Studying at the university already costs so much and I only want to finish my studies on time without any delay,” a survivor in Semarang said.

Most campuses do not have any known procedure to help survivors report their cases. The Research, Technology and Higher Education Ministry’s director general of learning and student affairs, Ismunandar, said in an interview with VICE Indonesia in February that universities in Indonesia were “autonomous” entities and such sexual abuse cases should be handled by each individual institution. The ministry did not have any plan to issue a guideline on eradicating sexual abuse on campus, including abuse perpetrated by lecturers.

However, UGM might be the first one to set up a university-wide policy. After much criticism about how the rectorate handled Agni’s case, which included victim blaming from some officials, UGM is deliberating a policy to give the rectorate a tool to handle future cases better.
“My lecturer also harassed my friend when we were still students but we didn’t know what to do or who to call for help. We didn’t have any facility on campus to solve this issue until now,” another survivor said.

Some of the survivors also did not report their cases because they suspected that university officials would care more about the university’s reputation.
“I’m scared of the top officials who resolutely try to protect the university’s reputation,” a survivor in Banten said.

This story by Gemma Holliani Cahya and Evi Mariani was originally published by Jakarta Post on April 29, 2019. To read more, click here.


Pioneering daily use of cutting-edge tech

In Fuzhou, capital of East China’s Fujian province, a white, 5G-enabled, sensor-rich agricultural robot moves between two rows of leafy greens in a greenhouse, collects data about the plants, and feeds it back to the control room.

The farm robot has been successfully tested for compatibility with the 5G mobile communication technology.

What this means in real terms is this: pictures and other data can be transmitted from farmland in almost real time.

Latency, or the time lag, is no longer than just one-hundredth of a second.

This allows the data to be analysed by computers enabled by artificial intelligence, or AI, in the control room more efficiently, according to the Fujian Academy of Agricultural Sciences and Fujian Newland Era Hi-Tech Co, the two entities that developed the robot.

As if to soften the aura of its high-tech innards, the robot sports the eye-pleasing appearance of an adorable cartoon character.

Its smooth, round base, which hides wheels underneath it, adds to the overall cuddly effect.

The robot can move in a smooth, fluid, jerk-free motion in all directions. It can inspect farms automatically and collect data samples used to power various applications. It can determine plants’ health condition and decide if pest control measures are warranted.

Odds are, in the not too distant future, the 5G super robot can even pick fruit with one of its bionic hands.

This robot is part of a broader trend in China, which involves tech companies teaming up with a variety of industries- agriculture, automobile, healthcare- to explore possibilities of combining 5G and AI to revolutionise the traditional sectors of the economy.

China is forecast to invest US$184 billion in 5G by 2025, according to a report released by the Global System for Mobile Communications Association, which represents the interests of more than 750 mobile operators worldwide.

From conducting the world’s first 5G-enabled surgery on a human and transmitting 8K ultra-high-definition TV content through 5G networks to piloting self-driving buses and cars, a range of cutting-edge technologies are being put to commercial use.

The high-tech push is expected to accelerate now that the nation has kicked off the 5G era in June.

Yang Kun, an expert at the China Academy of Information and Communications Technology, a research institute based in Beijing, said 5G enables data transfers at speeds at least 10 times faster than 4G, so it is possible to gather high-quality data quickly, which is necessary to ensure AI is effective.

“AI applications have existed before the commercial use of 5G, but it is the superfast speed, gigantic computing capacity and massive device connectivity of 5G that will spawn the use of AI in more sectors and on a far larger scale,” Yang said.

Lyu Tingjie, a professor at the Beijing University of Posts and Telecommunications agreed. According to him, 5G’s responsive speed can empower mission-critical applications that were impossible with 4G networks.

“When a needle pinches your finger, it takes one hundredth of a second for you to feel the pain. And theoretical latency of 5G is one-tenth of that. Only with such speed can remote surgeries and autonomous driving see wider applications,” Lyu said.

In March, a patient with Parkinson’s disease underwent China’s, and possibly the world’s, first 5G-based remote surgery.

With technological support from Huawei Technologies Co and China Mobile, a doctor in Sanya of the Hainan province, remotely operated surgical instruments to implant a deep brain stimulator known as a “brain pacemaker” into the patient in Beijing around 2,500 kilometers away.

Ling Zhipei, chief physician of the First Medical Centre of the Chinese PLA General Hospital, conducted the three-hour surgery. “The 5G network has solved problems like video lag and remote control delay experienced under the 4G network, ensuring a nearly real-time operation,” Ling said.

On June 6, China granted commercial 5G licenses to China Mobile, China Telecom and China Unicom, the nation’s top three telecom carriers by the number of subscribers. State-owned China Broadcasting Network Corp also received the 5G license.

China is forecast to invest US$184 billion in 5G by 2025, according to a report released by the Global System for Mobile Communications Association, which represents the interests of more than 750 mobile operators worldwide.

Such investments are expected to power China’s big AI push. The nation is implementing an AI development plan that aims to build a 1 trillion yuan (US$141 billion) AI core industry by 2030, which is expected to stimulate related businesses to the tune of 10 trillion yuan.

Digital technologies such as AI, next-generation network security, robotics, blockchain, internet of things, 3D printing and virtual reality all depend on data, and 5G can address this need for data collection and its quick, smooth transmission, said Zhong Zhenshan, vice-president of emerging technology research at the China branch of International Data Corp.

Wang Xianchang, a professor at Jilin University, said the most important use of AI is to allow machines to automatically make decisions.

The best application scenario in civil use is self-driving vehicles. And 5G will allow such decisions to be made properly and more reliably.

“AI applications have existed before the commercial use of 5G, but it is the superfast speed, gigantic computing capacity and massive device connectivity of 5G that will spawn the use of AI in more sectors and on a far larger scale,”

When a car runs into emergencies like a pedestrian suddenly jaywalking, a delay in seconds of data transmission among sensors equipped within the car will likely cause a potentially grievous, even fatal, accident.

5G is here to prevent such things from happening, Wang said.

Currently, self-driving buses are under test in a string of cities across China, including Shenzhen, Guangdong province, and Changsha, Hunan province.

Chinese online search engine operator Baidu Inc announced plans as early as in December 2017 to mass-produce autonomous buses for designated areas. It will partner with bus manufacturer Xiamen King Long United Automotive Industry Co.

In East China’s Anhui province, carmaker Anhui Jianghuai Automobile Co Ltd teamed up with Baidu to develop cars with auto-pilot systems.

Xiang Ligang, director-general of the Information Consumption Alliance, said the commercial use of 5G will impart further momentum to AI, but more discussions are needed to talk about the legal and ethical issues surrounding its wider applications.

China took a step in that direction in June when it issued new guidelines for scientists and lawmakers to promote the “safe, controllable and responsible use” of AI for the benefit of mankind.

Xue Lan, dean of Schwarzman College at Tsinghua University and chairman of the committee that issued the guidelines, said AI has raised many new and complex issues, like data privacy, machine ethics, safety, risks and misuse like spreading misinformation using “deepfake videos”, and AI-manipulated footage.

But AI is not as uncontrollable or mystical as some people appear to presume, experts said. The regulatory or supervisory mechanisms could steer it in the right direction and leave enough room for exploration, course-correction, remedies and calibrated growth, analysts said.

This story by Ma Si and Hu Meidong was originally published on Jul 8 by China Daily.


BEHIND THE STORY
China Daily has taken a broader look at the potential for 5G mobile technology to transform industries well beyond the telecommunications sector in submitting an article that appeared in Business Weekly on July 8, 2019. The report, a collaboration between Ma Si in Beijing and Hu Meidong in Fuzhou,took an in-depth look at how the fifth-generation technology is being increasingly put to work in industrial applications that also exploit advances in artificial intelligence (AI). While consumer-oriented applications of 5G have monopolised the headlines, the report by Ma and Hu shed light on the commercial uses that are being explored for these technologies. The marriage of 5G and AI is also being championed as a means for China to promote their safe and responsible use for the benefit of mankind. The report led with the use of 5G in agriculture and healthcare. The sectors offer interesting contrasts. Agriculture has been seen as a laggard in the uptake of cutting- edge advances, while caution has been at the forefront in people’s minds when it comes to the medical establishment’s adoption of new practices underpinned by scientific breakthroughs. As they interviewed experts in diverse fields, the reporters were impressed by the extent of the progress made by Chinese scientists and the readiness of entrepreneurs to embrace their work.

Technology offers freedom of mobility

For an able-bodied person, it takes less than 10 minutes to transfer from line No. 2 to line No. 6 at Sindang Station, one of the biggest transit points in Seoul.

For a person in a wheelchair, it takes up to 40 minutes.

The corridor at Sindang Station is long. It contains a lot of stairs and not enough ramps or elevators to help those using a wheelchair move on their own. During rush hour, the commute is a nightmare.

“Most subway stations in Korea were designed without mobility disabled people in the picture,” said Hong Yun-hui, founder and head of Muui, a nonprofit that provides transit information for people with physical impairments.

To point out one problem, “because Seoul’s subways are operated by more than two organisations, the signs are inconsistently placed,” she said.

“There are even blind spots in stations where there are no signs at all. It is impossible for people with an impairment to even bother to use the subway relying on these signs.”

“People with impairments are generally not financially affluent,” said Shim Jae-shin of Todo Works. “It is critical to develop something that can be used right away, which is what we are doing.”

Last year, Muui released a service that gives passengers the easiest transfer routes in select subway stations. The app can tell users which subway car is closest to the elevator and which corridors have more ramps. The nonprofit started with 14 stations and expanded the service to 33 this year. Volunteers collect the information by actually wandering the stations in wheelchairs.

“We have to consider everything from the perspective of those who move around in wheelchairs,” Hong said. “Even if there’s a sign, it is not useful for the mobility disabled because they cannot see them.”

Hong started Muui because of her daughter, who is unable to walk due to neuroblastoma. She believes people with disabilities should venture out and raise awareness of their experiences, but the infrastructure and technology in Korea is far from sufficient.

According to the Ministry of Land, Infrastructure and Transport, one out of four people in South Korea face difficulties getting around on their own. Ten per cent of that population has limited mobility because of conditions inherited at birth or wrought by a tragic accident. That adds up to about 1.2 million people in a country of 50 million.

Volunteers from Muui explore the Seoul subway in wheelchairs to collect information on accessibility. Source: Muui

Perceptions of people with disabilities cannot change overnight, but technology and services can.

“With the help of electronic wheelchairs and computer-assistive equipment, I was able to study and participate in society again,” Kim Jong-bae, an associate professor of occupational therapy at Yonsei University, told the Korea JoongAng Daily.

An accident in graduate school paralysed Kim from the neck down, but he was later able to study rehabilitation engineering in the United States with the aid of diverse technology and equipment.

“I severely felt the importance of rehabilitation engineering and how it is vital for disabled people to live independent lives,” he said.

SMALL CHANGES, BIG IMPACT

Hong Yun-hui believes in the positive effect of technology for people with physical impairments, but she also says it does not have to be expensive or sophisticated.

“Very, very small changes can entirely change how disabled people move around outside,” she said.

Todo Works is a Korean start-up that provides kits to turn manual wheelchairs into electric ones.

“I witnessed my daughter’s friend struggling with a foldable wheelchair, so I made a motor in about six months that let her more easily move around,” said Shim Jae-shin, founder and CEO of Todo Works. “I received more than 200 calls from parents of mobility disabled children to make the same motor for them after this one-time product.”

The motor weighs about 4.5 kilograms and coupled with a foldable wheelchair – which can weigh anywhere from 15 to 20 kilograms – the contraption is lighter than an electric wheelchair, which can easily exceed 100 kilograms.

Shim said the kit, called Todo Drive, represents a “midway technology” that resolves an immediate inconvenience until a more complete solution is developed. The motor can drive a wheelchair about 10 kilometres on one charge.

“It is a rather simple task for the manufacturer to make these kinds of products,” Shim said. “But for disabled people, these simple products change their entire lives. The most frequent feedback I hear from parents is that the personality of their disabled children has changed to become brighter and more positive.”

Todo Drive sells for 1.76 million won (US$1475.89), while similar imported products go for over 5 million won (US$4192.88) on average.

Conglomerates have also started initiatives to help people with limited mobility. Hyundai Motor Group, the nation’s largest automaker, set up a social enterprise called Easy Move in 2010 to develop products catered toward that population.

The company remodelled its Carnival van and Ray box car with a ramp in the trunk so that wheelchair-bound people can easily get in and out of the car. The modified cars and other products posted 2 billion won in sales in 2011 and went up to 7.7 billion won last year.

Easy Move also designed a wheelchair for children that resembles a baby stroller. “Most of the wheelchairs sold in Korea are made for adults,” an official from Easy Move said. “But children who are unable to walk also need to use wheelchairs instead of just settling for a baby carriage because that option is not safe” since they were not designed for children with disabilities.

Like Todo Drive, the domestically developed and manufactured Easy Move products are less expensive than comparable imports.

ROBOT SUITS

Hyundai Motor has given its researchers opportunities to come up with novel ideas that help the disabled population.

Last year, it held an R&D festival where a team called Sympony took first prize for creating a system that turns sound into visible colors in a car’s front window to help the hard of hearing easily identify police or ambulance sirens.

A researcher from Sympony, a team of in-house researchers at Hyundai Motor, demonstrates a system that visualizes sound. Source: Hyundai Motor

The automaker’s research has even expanded to the realm of wearable robots. At last year’s Consumer Electronics Show in Las Vegas, it unveiled three types of wearable robots, also known as exoskeletons.

One of them, called H-MEX (Hyundai Medical Exoskeleton), allows people with lower spinal cord injuries to walk. Paraplegics can sit, stand and even walk up and down stairs by controlling the legs with a joystick.

The exoskeleton market is expected to exceed US$3.4 billion by 2024, according to Global Market Insights, and research on the technology is rising in South Korea. The number of patents related to exoskeletons filed in the Korea Intellectual Property Office hit a record high of 44 last year compared to just 11 in 2010. Hyundai Motor and Daewoo Shipbuilding & Marine Engineering filed the most patents between 2007 and 2016.

Such futuristic technology, however, has a long way to go in practically helping people with physical impairments. “Most of the robotic equipment being developed today cannot be worn or taken off by disabled people on their own,” said Prof. Kim Jong-bae at Yonsei University.
“I wonder if they can be really called a practical invention for the disabled.”

Accessibility is also a problem. “People with impairments are generally not financially affluent,” said Shim Jae-shin of Todo Works. “It is critical to develop something that can be used right away, which is what we are doing.”

“We already experienced information gap problem when the internet and PCs first emerged,” Professor Kim said. “If technology of the so-called fourth industrial revolution doesn’t consider accessibility among the disabled population, it will end in a serious ‘technology gap.’”

This story by Jin Eun-Soo was originally published by Korea JoongAng Daily on March 12, 2018.

BEHIND THE STORY
Published on March 12, 2018, business reporter Jin Eun-Soo’s story in JoongAng Daily drew attention to the plight of people with mobility impairments in South Korea and the technology that improved their lives. Listening to the difficulties of parents with disabled children in South Korea inspired her to shed light on the issue in a society so inattentive to their needs. She said: “It wasn’t an intentional violence, they say, but this ignorant attitude was what eventually lead to hostility and discrimination towards disabled people.” Her conversations with these parents revealed how small changes, such as information about which subway exit has ramps and an elevator, could help tremendously. The journalist then searched for people behind the products and services making these changes. They were eager to talk, because despite how useful their service was, nobody seemed to care. After running the story, Eun-Soo received many messages from people with disabilities and parents of disabled children thanking her for telling their stories to the world. She said: “They did not wish for immediate changes, but were thankful that the story could act as a pathway to elevating social awareness on disabled people and letting them know that small changes could really have big impacts on these disabled people.”

Trouble in paradise

A single mother, Atelma Jacosalem Familara used to feed her family by working as a massage therapist for weary tourists at Boracay, the Philippines’ most popular beach destination that is located in Malay town, Aklan province.

Atelma lost her job earlier this month. The spa she worked for was shut down due to the lack of proper permits. Shortly after, environmental officials issued notices for her to vacate her family’s bamboo-made house that sits on one of almost a dozen wetlands, which were said to have been reclaimed.

The businessmen have money at the bank, but we don’t. Can the government sustain us, the poor?

Boracay natives are the most likely to suffer from President Rodrigo Duterte’s abrupt order to halt the entry of tourists starting April 26, 2018, and pave way for the six-month rehabilitation program.

The resort island has contributed P56.14 billion (US$10.7 billion) to the economy and provided jobs to 17,328 registered local and foreign workers as well as 19,289 unregistered workers in 2017.

Atelma’s brother Thiting Jacosalem told Manila Bulletin that she could not sleep and stopped eating on the night she lost her job.

Anxiety grew as it dawned on the family that, with the island’s closure on April 26, it would be improbable to sustain her family.

The 42-year-old mother, who lost her husband to terminal illness five years ago, turned to the Bible and somehow drew strength from it, as she went around her neighborhood spreading the word of God.

“Kumakapit na lang siya sa panalangin kasi wala na siyang maasahan na iba (She’s praying for Divine Intervention. She has no one to turn to),” he added hours after social workers picked up Atelma and took her to a treatment center in the mainland.

Her plight is only all too familiar in Boracay.

The government’s crackdown to reverse the environmental damage to the resort island dubbed as “Asia’s 24/7” destination is beginning to upend the daily life of an estimated 56,444 residents.

“Sabi dati ni President Duterte, dapat mayroong malasakit. Ang tanong ngayon: Saan ang malasakit sa kapwa? Sa mga mahihirap? (President Duterte previously said there should be compassion. The question is: Where is the compassion for your fellow human being? For the poor?),” said Ron Degayo, a 39-year-old motorcycle driver.

“Daw kulang nalang silingon sang Presidente nga mag halin na kami diri sa Boracay (It’s short of saying the President want us to leave Boracay),” added Hilton Gelito, a 53-year-old native.

UNREGULATED TOURISM DEVELOPMENT

Boracay before rehabilitation. Sewage water flows directly to the beach, affecting water quality and increasing levels of coliform bacteria. Source: Czar Dancel

The pollution of Philippines’ most popular beach attraction brings to light the government’s failure to enforce existing regulations, which could have curbed its environmental degradation.

President Duterte’s description of Boracay as “cesspool” came from videos showing untreated wastewater being dumped into the sea from the island’s back beach, an area that is popular among foreigners for water kite surfing.

This came almost two months after Boracay experienced its worst flooding in history. Before Christmas in 2017, continuous rainfall flooded almost 90 percent of the island.

Inspectors found that businesses such as hotels, resorts and restaurants were illegally connected to the drainage system. Instead of only handling wastewater, it was also carrying waste.
There’s also the garbage problem.

In 2017, the Malay local government had to haul off more than 20,000-30,000 kilograms of trash from Boracay to the mainland after both tourists and residents complained of foul odour and health risks from uncollected garbage.

The construction of structures in areas considered as forestlands is also questionable. Of the 377.68 hectares of forestland area in this island, at least 90.61 hectares have land titles while 287.06 hectares are not titled.

Several establishments were also found to have violated easement rules, built structures that were less than 30 metres from the shoreline along the famous white-sand beach, while also encroaching the access roads. Several local residents, who requested anonymity, blamed local government officials as well as those from the Department of Environment and Natural Resources (DENR) and the Department of Tourism (DOT) for allowing investors to build in no-build zones.

Many claimed that corruption tempted some officials to wantonly issue permits to operate or build at the expense of the environment and upkeep of this island.

LIVELIHOOD IN PERIL

With the closure, it is estimated that 36,617 workers in Boracay will lose their jobs.

Shienna Caigoy, a 26-year-old waitress at one of the posh resorts, said she will have no choice but to go back to her hometown in Nabas, Aklan.

Not having reached regular working status, she will not qualify for the almost P2 billion (US$38.2 million) fund that will be distributed by the government to tide over Boracay’s displaced workers.
Dianaluz Señeres Tolentino is set to lose P21,000 (US$401.49) per month from workers renting rooms in her modest boarding house.

Worse, Dianaluz is worried that her residence, which she inherited from her parents, might be demolished by the government’s rehabilitation team.

UNFAIR PUNISHMENT

What is breaking the hearts of local residents is that the closure order will affect most individuals who have done nothing wrong to cause the problem in Boracay.

Resident Dan Gelito said that President Duterte should have thoroughly thought of his decision and only went after the violators. Dan pointed out that he spent P40,000 (US$764.66) so his house can legally connect to the sewage system while big businesses have been left untouched.

“Mga negosyante may kwarta sa bangko pero kami wala. Wala sila labot kon six months o pila ka tuig magsarado. Ang gobyerno, maka sustain bala sa amon nga imol? (The businessmen have money at the bank, but we don’t. Can the government sustain us, the poor?),” lamented the 54-year-old.

Even the 58-year-old tribal chieftain of the Ati indigenous group expressed dismay about President Duterte’s decision. Delsa Justo said several Ati families are already feeling the burden of the closure. Ati men, who were hired as construction workers, were laid off and are scrambling where to find money to feed their children.

PROPER REHABILITATION

A few days before the formal opening, Boracay is seen here in its rehabilitated state. The beachfront is cleaner, the water is more pristine and new rules are imposed. Source: Yvette Fernandez

With only a few days before the closure, Boracay locals can only hope that the government can realistically achieve the rehabilitation program.
In a mixture of Tagalog and English, Johnny Sacapaño said that he is supportive of the clean-up drive as long as it is done properly.
“Ang dumi talaga ng Boracay (Boracay is very dirty),” he noted.
For the 65-year-old, the time has come to properly enforce the law and regain what was lost in Boracay for the past 40 years.
“Dapat tuloy-tuloy ang rehabilitasyon at sulit din yung sakripisyo namin (The rehabilitation should be continuous and that our sacrifices will be worth it),” Johnny concluded.
This hope was ultimately realised.
A few days before the official opening of Boracay, the Task Force in charge of the island laid out new rules and regulations for both business establishments and tourists.
Despite the cost that the closure had on livelihoods, Boracay’s successful rehabilitation shows that with political backing, cleaning the environment is not an insurmountable challenge.

This story by Tara Yap was originally published by The Manila Bulletin on Aug 22, 2018.


BEHIND THE STORY
On the last day before the closure of Boracay, Tara Yap reported the unhappiness of locals about the devastation it would have on their livelihoods. Published on Aug 22, 2018, the article is one of a series of features by the Manila Bulletin, that extensively documented the impact that the six-month closure with journalists from various beats – tourism, the environment and labour. In wake of President Duterte’s shock decision to close the island, a team of reporters from the Manila Bulletin interviewed stakeholders ranging from government agencies to public transportation drivers. Through a series of stories following the island’s transformation, the publication quelled rumours about the ‘real’ reason for the island’s closure, including the purported construction of a casino complex by a foreign company. Their efforts to hold government agencies to account proved successful in Boracay’s eventual restoration.

Only unmasked protester that stormed LegCo explains July 1 drama

Hundreds of protesters stormed Hong Kong’s Legislative Council on the 22nd anniversary of the city’s handover to Chinese rule on July 1, breaking glass panels, windows, dismantling furniture, daubing graffiti in the chamber and attempting to put up the British colonial flag.

Brian Leung Kai-ping, 25, was among those who entered the legislature – and the only one who has openly revealed his identity that night.

The storming made international headlines and marked a “quantum leap” for the entire movement against the extradition bill and the city’s push for democracy, he said.

In an exclusive interview with the South China Morning Post, via a Telegram phone call – the social networking tool widely used in the movement – he explained his actions and why he had no regrets.

Watch South China Morning Post’s video here.

Where were you on Monday (July 1) and what was your role?

I skipped another major rally to stay around the Legislative Council complex for nearly eight hours, keeping a close eye on every move. Like most protesters, we had been waiting for this opportunity to make a statement inside Legco. There was, of course, no clear consensus at the time how long we should occupy it, which underlined the very nature of the extradition bill movement – decentralised, leaderless and spontaneous. We were improvising.

After an hour and a half, reporters observed you removing your mask and asking everyone to stay. Why did you do that?

At the time, more and more people, wary of police countermoves, started to leave the Legco chamber.

I made a risky move to step on the desk of one lawmaker, removed my face mask, and shouted at the top of my voice: “The more people here, the safer we are. Let’s stay and occupy the chamber, we can’t lose no more.”

Some protesters warned me not to remove my mask, but I felt it was the defining moment of the night. I felt we ought to appeal to the crowds to join in and form a barrier and support those inside the Legco complex. No one could tell when we would step foot in Legco again.

As police were drawing closer and closer, after some deliberation, most decided to end the siege. I volunteered to be in front of the camera to read out the key demands of protesters in the chamber.

The last thing I wished to see, after all the action taken, was to have no clear demands put on the table.

If we didn’t do that, the public might only remember the vandalism and point fingers at us as a mob. That would also hand the government a convenient reason to prosecute each and every one of us, which would mark yet another setback to civil society like in the 2014 Occupy movement.

But weren’t the actions of the protesters that day, along with the damage done to Legco, violent?

Be clear that any damage was only done to the Legco building or properties within, not so much to any person or even police officers. Protesters have been restrained in their use of force.

It is worthwhile to note the graffiti was not merely vandalising. For instance, protesters spray-painted and covered up “People’s Republic of China”, leaving behind only “Hong Kong Special Administrative Region”. That is a clear mistrust of the two-systems principle. Most of the other graffiti was about commemorating the three lives lost in this movement.

So they were only telling the public that this was not just mob action but to register the accumulated frustrations of an unfair electoral system. Compared with the death of three people who used their lives to deliver a message, does the damage to several glass frames even count?

So what was the young protesters’ state of mind in being part of the July 1 protest and other sieges?

The pursuit of freedom and democracy is what fundamentally drove hundreds of protesters on Monday into Legco, the same goal shared by hundreds of thousands who took to the streets earlier. The government has thus far turned a blind eye to our demands, and there was no real change nor real actions tabled. If Carrie Lam claimed herself ready to be more humble, why did she not make clear the suspended bill was completely withdrawn, a move that could easily settle the controversy?

Or, the government could choose not to charge protesters arrested earlier, which we saw happened to those in Taiwan’s Sunflower movement. Or, it could task an independent inquiry into police’s excessive use of force.
Any of these would be welcomed by the civil society, but the government refused to take these calls on board.

You mentioned the three deaths. These are suicide cases. Isn’t it wrong to glamorise them and call them martyrs?

It was evident that protesters were so outraged that three lives were sacrificed throughout this movement, when peaceful means were almost all exhausted. Young protesters were at a point of desperation.

We were not in a position to pass any judgment on their decisions but what the protesters could do was to honour their faith.

One may well argue that time is supposed to be on young people’s side. But with the disqualification and jailing of pro-democracy lawmakers and activists after 2014 “umbrella movement”, the entire generation was banned from the political system.
We do not have the luxury of our parents to settle down in another place. Nor do we have the burden of a 30-year mortgage to worry about. Young people have nothing to lose, their only hope is to stay safe to see the sun rise, and hope to join protest another day. We want democracy, now.

Can you share your personal background, your schooling, your parents?

Hong Kong’s social movement has always inspired my academic study. After graduating from the University of Hong Kong with a dual degree in law and politics, I chose for my master’s thesis the topic of how civil society could help democratic transition and prevent authoritarian regimes.

I have always aspired to become a professor and return to teach Hong Kong students to be socially aware in the future.

I really don’t want to mention my family, as I don’t think that’s helpful.

What’s next for the movement? And what’s next for you? And are you in Hong Kong?

Civil society has already exhausted every possible peaceful means, and it is not trying to exercise violence for the sake of violence. The government needs to reflect on its response.

For my own part, I am not sure whether I can fly to the United States this September to continue my PhD studies in political science at the University of Washington. I am still considering various options, and seeking as much advice as I can.

While I am not yet a political dissident in exile, that is a real threat ahead of me and my peers if the government chooses to press charges against all those who entered Legco, who played their part in this protest.

I am blessed to receive legal advice and other recommendations from my social network, while remaining financially independent through a role as a teaching assistant. For those who may be 17 and 18 years old, there could be real consequences and it is worrying.

This story by Alvin Lum was originally published by the South China Morning Post on July 5. Read more here .


BEHIND THE STORY
Alvin Lum is an award-winning political journalist specialising in Hong Kong politics and the city’s justice system. He sought to understand the reason why protesters stormed the council even after the government had shelved the bill. This led him to contact Brian, who had left Hong Kong right after the movement, through a mutual acquaintance.Published on Jul 5, his exclusive interview was a scoop, Alvin being the first journalist to speak to the only protest leader who was willing to take off his mask during the trashing of Hong Kong’s Legislative Council. “That interview, when it was published, helped fill the void why protesters still need to resort to this kind of more radical measures which has never happened before in Hong Kong,” Alvin said. Tammy Tam, editor-in-chief, South China Morning Post added: “Alvin’s exclusive interview with Brian Leung reflects the vital role SCMP has played in independently covering and revealing insights into an important chapter of this still ongoing unprecedented political crisis in our city. We will continue in our unwavering commitment to report these developments with professionalism and courage.”

Battling the spectre of fires in densely populated areas

Fires in commercial establishments do more damage than setting buildings ablaze.

Lives are lost, businesses disrupted and wounds take years to heal.

In Bangladesh, a survey by the Fire Service and Civil Defence headquarters, in 2017, showed that only 129 of 3,786 establishments in Dhaka, the country’s capital city, were not classified as “Risky” or “Extremely Risky”.

The results signal the high risk of accidents taking place.

On Mar 28, 2019, a massive fire engulfed the FR Tower in Dhaka’s commercial Banani area, killing 26 people and leaving around 100 people injured.

Barely a month ago, at least 70 people were killed after a fire broke out in an apartment building that was reportedly also used as a chemicals warehouse and spread to nearby buildings.

Fire accidents are not uncommon in densely populated Bangladesh owing to lax safety regulations and poor building conditions.

Officials say the problem is that the laws requiring buildings to have safety measures was enforced only in 2006.

There is a treasure trove of risk assessments conducted by urban planners over the years all nailing down the same conclusion — the city needs to be protected.

“In 2017 we surveyed over 3,500 schools, colleges, universities, hotels banks, hospitals, media houses and shopping markets within Dhaka city to assess their vulnerability to fire, and what we found was pretty frightening,” said Major AKM Shakil Newaz, the director of operations at the Bangladesh Fire Service and Civil Defence headquarters.

“None of the buildings built before 2006 have the things necessary for fire protection, because the Bangladesh National Building Code (BNBC) was yet to come into effect,” he added.

The BNBC was drafted in 1993 and published in the form of a government gazette, but was not enforced as a legally binding document until a decade and a half later.

The factors examined were quite simple and gauged a building’s basic fire-safety measures – does the building have firefighting equipment? Is it heavily populated? Does it have emergency exits? Does the establishment practise evacuation drills? Was there any chance of an electrical fire? Is there an underground water reservoir?

“All high-rise constructions that took place after 2006 needed to get a fire safety clearance from the Fire Service department. They will not be able to build any building over six storeys without having the plans inspected by someone from this department,” said Major Shakil.

However, this still excludes majority of the city.

This is what people in the 22-storey FR Tower – which was constructed before the 2006 cut-off mark – were quick to find out.

There was not a single fire-protected staircase in the entire building.

“The building had only one staircase,” said Kazi Saad Nur, whose wife Zarin Tasnim works on the 12th floor of the building.

“She called me and told me she cannot come down, so she went up to the 15th floor. But after that her phone was found switched off and I was unable to reach her,” he said. Zarin was later reported to have suffocated to death.

The staircase, which was already overcome with smoke, was, however, not the only one in the building.

There was another – a barely one-foot wide staircase snaking out of the back of the building. This staircase had become a doubly precarious undertaking during the fire.

The risks were such that the Fire Department actually sent two letters in 2017 and 2018 to the building authorities which highlighted the lack of fire safety measures in the building.

“The staircase was filled with smoke and my brother, who was stuck on the 9th floor, was unable to use it to escape. He and his colleagues used a hacksaw to cut open the iron grilles on the toilet window and jumped to the next building,” said Nalifa Mehelin, another relative of a victim who was trapped in the fire.

The lack of safety measures in buildings has become alarmingly common.

THE CITY THAT BURNS

On March 2, 2019, just ten days after an inferno took over Churihatta in Chawkbazaar, a fire broke out again in the area. This time it was a scrap metal shop where a gas cylinder had exploded, turning the shop white-hot, and leaving three staffers with as much as 30 per cent burns.

On the very same day a fire broke out in a slum in Tejgaon Industrial area, gutting 50 homes. This newspaper reported that the fire stemmed from a pile of rubble left behind by government workers, following an eviction drive.
Three days later, a fire broke out in a tyre warehouse in Old Dhaka’s Nawabpur area. Media reported that it took firefighters two hours to bring the flames under control.

Before the fumes from that had died down, there was a fire in a slum in Nakhalpara – one big enough for the fire service to need eight units to bring it under control. Following this, there was another fire in another scrap goods warehouse in Lalbagh.

All of this was a month’s work.

But more importantly, these were only the ones that were reported – in fact a Star Weekend analysis showed that only one per cent of fire incidents are ever reported in the media.

Calculating from the statistics of the last three years published by the Fire Service Department, there are on average 43 fire incidents every single day that need to be tackled by firefighters.

Additionally, an article published in 2004 by the Institute of Engineers, Bangladesh, titled “Fire Hazard Categorization and Risk Assessment for Dhaka City in GIS Framework”, found that the Tejgaon Industrial Area, Fulbaria and Postogola were the most hazardous areas in the city to live in, having more than 30 fire incidents annually. The next-worst areas were found to be Jatrabari, Sadarghat, Shakhari bazar, Waizghat, Simpson Road, New Market and Mirpur-1.

Risk zones are many. In 2001, a Bangladesh University of Engineering and Technology (BUET) graduate student studying the area of Mohammadpur found that shopping centres and filling stations have more frequent fire incidents.

On top of the pile of tinder – which are high-rises without basic safety measures – there are 867 chemical warehouses spread throughout the city which too are operating without fire safety clearances, according to statistics provided by the department.
In 2012, students from BUET’s department of Urban & Regional Planning (URP) assessed 153 chemical warehouses on Armanitola road for fire risk.

All the chemical warehouses studied showed that the amount of chemicals stored exceeded the amount allowed by BNBC. In most of the warehouses the amount stored was between 2,500kg and 5,500kg, with the highest going to 10,000 kilograms.

Worse yet, they found that of the warehouses, 17 percent had chemicals that would ignite almost immediately – similar to what had been observed in Chawkbazaar.

“None of the buildings built before 2006 have the things necessary for fire protection, because the Bangladesh National Building Code (BNBC) was yet to come into effect,”

Only a quarter of the warehouses were storing non-flammable materials.

This fire risk did not seem to cause a dent in the psyche of the businessmen there – very few of the warehouses had fire extinguishers and none of them had fire alarms or any fire-protected staircases. A quarter had staircases which also served as storage units. Shockingly, half of the warehouses had homes and hospitals in the same building.

“The people who are in the business of importing and storing chemicals do not have knowledge of the chemical properties of those substances at all. Most chemical shop and storage owners do not even accept that they are dealing with chemicals,” said Nushrat Jahan, one of the authors of the paper titled “Fire Hazard Risk Assessment of Mixed Use Chemical Storage Facilities: A Case Study of Chemical Warehouses in Old Dhaka”, which was published in Journal of Bangladesh Institute of Planners.

The author, currently a Planning PhD student at the University of Toronto, also added that all of this boils down to creating awareness.

There is a treasure trove of risk assessments conducted by urban planners over the years all nailing down the same conclusion — the city needs to be protected.

A thesis published in 2008 by the Department of Urban Planning (URP) at BUET narrowed in on what was then ward 72 (now ward 36) comprising Islampur, Shakhari bazar, Simpson Road and Court House Street, and found that most of the buildings there were moderately vulnerable to fire.

Similarly in 2015, a report published in the International Journal of Disaster Risk Reduction by graduate students of University of Texas and BUET, studied the buildings in ward number 29, which is the area around Islambagh.

They found that less than half of the buildings there could be accessed by fire engines and that nearly 59 percent of the buildings were vulnerable to fire.

So why can not the fire service simply go and evacuate the places without any fire safety clearances?

“We do not have the powers of a magistrate. We can only intervene after a disaster has already occurred,” said Maj Shakil.

Besides, he added, that it was not as if they could empty out the city considering the widespread nature of the problem.
“Did you know that 71 percent of the streets in Dhaka are too narrow for fire engines to pass through?”

According to the current law, the roads need to be at least nine metres wide for fire engines to pass through. There needs to be at least a 4.5 metre wide space in front of the building for the fire units to set themselves up.

“These laws completely fall flat in entire areas like Old Dhaka, Mirpur, Mohammadpur, Rampura and Khilgaon, among others,” he said.

This story by Zyma Islam was originally published by the Daily Star on March 29.


BEHIND THE STORY
Published on March 29, journalist Zyma Islam exposed the inadequate fire safety of buildings in Bangladesh hot on the heels of a massive fire on March 28 in Dhaka, the nation’s capital. Dubbed as the Banani FR Tower fire, the flames left 26 people dead and around 100 injured. In response to criticism, Housing and Public Works Minister SM Rezaul Karim declared on March 30 that all buildings constructed violating rules would be identified within 15 days. “If necessary, the identified buildings will be sealed off, demolished, or all activities will be suspended there until safety is ensured,” he told reporters after visiting a Gulshan kitchen market where a fire broke out in the morning.

Politician caught negotiating with Russia in trap

Heinz-Christian Strache, the leader of Austria’s right-wing populist FPÖ party, met with purported Russian multimillionaire in Ibiza on July 24, 2017. She offered him campaign support in exchange for public contracts.

What he didn’t know was that the entire exchange was staged and recorded by hidden cameras.

The video was created three months before Austria’s general election that October. Following the election, Heinz-Christian Strache would rise to become the country’s vice-chancellor.

The video shows Strache and fellow party member Johann Gudenus, deputy mayor of Vienna at the time, meeting with a woman in a luxurious holiday villa on the Spanish island of Ibiza. She was introduced to them as Alyona Makarova, the purported niece of

Igor Makarov, a Russian oligarch close to President Vladimir Putin. The elegant woman could conduct business practically anywhere she wanted with her ‘Latvian’ passport.

The supposed investor who offered to invest a hundred million euros into their partnership already had a plan.

She proposed acquiring a 50 per cent stake in a highly influential Austrian tabloid, the Kronen Zeitung, to use the newspaper as a mouthpiece backing Strache and his party in the election campaign.

Strache, dressed casually in a T-shirt and jeans, seemed enthusiastic – mostly about the proposal, but also about the woman herself. “Are you kidding? She’s hot,” he said, with a Viennese lilt.

Strache spoke for more than six hours with the woman, alternately whispering and roaring, lecturing and gesticulating.

“As long as I’m not dead,” Strache said at one point, “I’ll be in charge for the next 20 years.”

Ultimately, a deal took shape in that room in the Ibiza villa on that July day in 2017: Russian money of uncertain origin would help boost the FPÖ’s election results. And it goes without saying that the woman purporting to be Alyona Makarova would also get something out of it.

The Russian woman’s apparent confidant said her money wasn’t “actually entirely legal” and described the deal as “legally tricky.”

That night, switching between Russian and English, she repeatedly asked what she would get in return after the election if, as planned, Strache were to become part of the government. The woman had a confidant at her side in the villa, a middle-aged man in white trousers and a blue shirt, who did most of the talking when it came to the sensitive negotiations. He demanded, in German, that they be granted the kind of blatant financial advantages that only a government can provide.

But Heinz-Christian Strache, who is fond of presenting himself as the man cleaning up Austrian politics, didn’t stand up and leave as one might have expected him to do in such a situation.

Instead, while he repeatedly emphasized during the conversation that he was only available for legal deals, he would quickly turn around and agree to proposals that, if implemented, would clearly be illegal.

The matters discussed included the question of whether the FPÖ, if it became part of a coalition government, would be in a position to award artificially inflated government contracts to the purported Russian.

They also talked about the possibility of the Russian woman making a donation to the FPÖ party that could be concealed by way of an association.

The Russian woman’s apparent confidant said her money wasn’t “actually entirely legal” and described the deal as “legally tricky.” And yet that still didn’t prompt Strache and Gudenus to leave. The confidant said the Russian woman’s dealings were in “an illegal space.” Strache and Gudenus remained seated.

The full length of the meeting is documented in the video, sober viewing that raises deep moral questions.

More than six hours that covered not only backroom deals, but also the overarching goal of creating a tamed Austrian media landscape similar to the Hungarian model.

Did Strache or Gudenus report to the authorities the next day that someone had attempted to bribe them? Or that illicit money was to be smuggled into Austria?

Requests for responses to those questions sent by Süddeutsche Zeitung and news weekly Der Spiegel were left unanswered.

“As long as I’m not dead,” Strache said at one point, “I’ll be in charge for the next 20 years.”

In a message to Süddeutsche Zeitung and Der Spiegel, Strache and Gudenus did not deny having been in that villa, but stress that it was a “strictly private meeting”.

Ibiza, an oligarch’s niece, millions and millions of euros and a major newspaper?

Even by the standards of Austrian politics – which has a penchant for absurdist drama – it is a rather audacious scenario. Too audacious to be real, in fact. Strache and Gudenus, it turns out, had been lured into a trap. Apparently, someone wanted to test how they would react to such a tempting offer.

The purported Russian wasn’t the niece of oligarch Makarov, who actually is a real person. Nor is it likely that she had hundreds of millions of euros at her disposal. She was simply acting as a decoy.

Neither Der Spiegel nor the Süddeutsche Zeitung have any reliable information about the motives of the people who set Strache this trap in 2017 or who they may have been working for.

But one thing is clear following the evaluation of the material and verification of its authenticity by two experts: It is in the public interest to know how Strache and Gudenus, high-ranking representatives of the Austrian government and of their party, responded to dubious advances from a purported oligarch.

This story by Leila Al-Serori, Oliver Das Gupta, Peter Münch, Frederik Obermaier and Bastian Obermayer was originally published online by Süddeutsche Zeitung on 17 May 2019 .

BEHIND THE STORY
The meeting in Ibiza appears to have served the sole purpose of deceiving Strache and Gudenus in a professionally staged and technically elaborate spectacle. Hidden cameras and microphones were installed in the villa in light switches and in a mobile phone charging station. The microphones recorded almost every word spoken. The Süddeutsche Zeitung and Der Spiegel both obtained parts of the video and audio recordings and analysed them together. However, the newspaper paid no money for the material, and neither did Der Spiegel, according to the magazine. To verify the veracity of the video, Süddeutsche Zeitung obtained photos of an invoice showing the villa was booked from July 22-25, 2017. An expert hired by the Süddeutsche Zeitung confirmed that the photos advertising the villa on the booking website show the same rooms that can be seen in the hours of video footage.
Hidden cameras and microphones began recording their conversations there.