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Hong Kong is Our Home too

The city’s first registered social worker with an ethnic minority background, Jeffrey Andrews, shares his experience in raising a voice for a multicultural Hong Kong.

By Gabriella Lynn

Jeffrey Andrews, Hong Kong’s first registered social worker with an ethnic minority background, has been serving ethnic minorities and refugees for around 12 years. Nicknamed “Jeff,” he ran for the pro-democracy primaries last year, hoping to win a seat in the Legislative Council. 

“I stand for unity in diversity, and I feel the need to be a voice for ethnic minorities, which is why I wanted to stand for the election,” he says.

After the primary election, Andrews and 52 pro-democracy figures, including activists, politicians and academics were arrested by the National Security Department of the Hong Kong Police Force on January 6, 2021. He was later charged with “conspiracy to commit subversion”. 

On bail at the time of the interview, Andrews, who considers himself a Hongkonger with an Indian descent, says he cannot disclose details regarding the charge and arrest. But he is determined that the arrest will not stop him from continuing to help other ethnic minorities and refugees in the future.

“Even with what happened to me, I still believe there should be an ethnic minority representative in Hong Kong. I might not [run in the election] again, but we still need a voice,” Andrews vows. 

“I am confused about the future and [my feelings for Hong Kong], just like everyone else, but Hongkongers have gone through so much, like the SARS and economic crises, we somehow just get on with it. I still have so much faith in this Hong Konger spirit,” he adds. 

“I stand for unity in diversity, and I feel the need to be a voice for ethnic minorities, which is why I wanted to stand for the election.”

From Gang Member to Social Worker

Becoming a social worker was never on young Andrews’ mind. Growing up in the 1990s, he went to a school which had many non-Chinese-speaking (NCS) students, commonly referred as “designated school”.  The term was later abolished by the Education Bureau in the 2013/14 school year to remove the misconception arising from the label.

Students studying in designated schools were assumed to finish their school days at the age of 15 or 17 as they finished Form 3 or Form 5 at best but students in other schools would continue their studies.

“In Form 5, when [my classmates and I] left the school with public exam results…there were gang members outside, trying to recruit us. They asked: ‘Why do you want to study when you can make money this [easily]?’ And many of us ended up joining them, including me,” Andrews recalls.

Led astray, he wasted two years of his life as a gang member. The wake-up call, Andrews says, was when he got arrested for theft at the age of 19.

Jeffrey Andrews and Fermi Wong at the graduation ceremony of the part-time social work programme. (Photo Courtesy of Jeffrey Andrews)

“It was 4 a.m. in the morning. I did not want to call my parents, so I ended up calling my social worker, Fermi Wong. It was God’s intervention for putting [her] number in my head, because back in the day, we had no cell phones, and I still remember her phone number to this day,” Andrews chuckles.

Since then, the once troubled teenager grew a strong desire to become a social worker like Wong, the founder of Hong Kong Unison, who protects the rights of ethnic minorities. Because of his cultural background, Andrews believes he is the perfect fit to help other ethnic minorities like him.

In 2011, 25-year-old Andrews enrolled in a part-time social work programme at the Caritas Institute of Higher Education. He was one of the first three ethnic minority students to study this programme — now, there have been 17 more since Andrews graduated in 2014.

After three years, Andrews graduated and became a registered social worker. He joined Wong, and together, they supported the forgotten and excluded people in the city.

Unity in Diversity

Now 36, Andrews spends most of his time at Chungking Mansions, home to low-budget hostels, restaurants, and shops mainly opened by Africans and South Asians. Andrews is the co-manager at Christian Action Centre for Refugees, a non-governmental organisation (NGO), which is located on the 17th floor of the building.

Andrews regularly organises guided tours of the building for students, volunteers, and even corporate leaders. As he led a group of Youth Men’s Christian Association (YMCA) volunteers touring inside the building on the day of the interview, he greeted almost every resident passing by whom he called them “brothers” or “uncles”. He introduced their background and culture to the volunteers in fluent Cantonese.

Jeffrey Andrews leads a group of YMCA volunteers touring inside the Chungking Mansions.

To Andrews, Chungking Mansions is much more than a place for curry or currency exchange. Starting from this building that many locals are intimidated by, he wants to bridge the gap between ethnic minorities and local Chinese.

He believes a big step moving forward was achieved two years ago during a protest.

“In the challenging times we are in, people understand and relate to ethnic minorities, who have been struggling for all their lives.”

On October 20, 2019, during the period of anti-government protest, a group of ethnic minorities, including Andrews, stood outside Chungking Mansions and distributed drinking water to protesters.

“[The support] was so amazingly well-received that many people wanted to check out us and Chungking Mansions, so we did tours for them too,” says Andrews, pointing at a picture of a long queue outside the building for the tour.

“In the challenging times we are in, people understand and relate to ethnic minorities, who have been struggling for all their lives,” he adds.

Hong Kongers queued up outside the Chungking Mansions to show support to ethnic minorities. (Photo Courtesy of Stand News)

Looking Ahead

At the time of the interview, Andrews was still anticipating his next bail report on October 21, 2021.

“I do not know what will happen to me on [that day] but let me just leave a legacy as far as I can and see where it takes me. I just keep my head down no matter what,” the 36-year-old says.

Despite the uncertainties, Andrews vows to make Hong Kong a better place for ethnic minorities. He wishes schools will incorporate guided tours to Chungking Mansions into their curriculum.

“I want children to come to feel, touch, talk, and taste. Education needs to change. Minority interaction needs to change,” he adds.

Edited by Fiona Cheung
Sub-edited by Eve Lee

Apple Daily Spirit Lives on

Former Apple Daily journalists remain in their profession, despite declining press freedom.

By Gloria Chan Yi-lam

Ingrid Tse Hing-yee worked for three media outlets in three years. She joined Apple Daily in 2021 after resigning from i-Cable in 2019 due to arguments about editorial decisions. The 25-year-old journalist now works in online media Hong Kong Citizen News after Apple Daily was folded in June this year.

“I think I am doing the right thing, and I will continue to do so… I am determined to stay in the industry as long as I can,” she vows.

During Tse’s job interview with Apple Daily in January 2021, her employer warned her that she might not be able to work in the company for long. But she still took the job offer.

“Apple Daily reporters could still do reporting freely and did not do news stories to please the government at that time. There was still room to practise journalism,” Tse says.

The Tearing Down of Apple Daily

On August 10, 2020, about a month after the introduction of the national security law, police raided Apple Daily’s office on Chun Ying Street, Tseung Kwan O Industrial Estate. They arrested Jimmy Lai Chee-ying, founder of its parent company, Next Digital, alleging him of violating the national security law.

On June 17, 2021, hundreds of police officers raided the office a second time and arrested five executives on suspicion of “colluding with a foreign country or with external elements”, violating the national security law. Assets worth HK$18 million were frozen on the same day. The company announced its closure “in view of employees’ safety” a week later.

Apple Daily’s office at 8 Chun Ying Street, Tseung Kwan O.

“The tearing down of Apple Daily, one of the major Chinese-language media critical of the ruling regime in Beijing, after years of harassment, is sending a chilling message to Hong Kong journalists,” says Cédric Alviani, the East Asia bureau head of Reporters Without Borders.

Seven people associated with Apple Daily, including journalists and executives, have been charged under national security law, which could lead up to penalties of up to life imprisonment so far.

Not Giving Up

After Apple Daily’s closure, Tse felt lost about her career in journalism and sad for the dwindling press freedom in Hong Kong. “It is not just about a few hundred employees losing their job. It is about the voice of Apple Daily, which could not be found in other news media outlets,” Tse says.

The city’s press freedom world ranking dived from 18 in 2002 to 80 this year, according to Reporters Without Borders.

Tse is now working for Hong Kong Citizen News, as it gives her room to produce good news stories. She believes if she loses her job as a journalist in the future, she will still do reporting in her free time. “I don’t have to give up. I will continue to practice journalism and do reporting as long as I can,” she says.

Local news journalist Ingrid Tse Hing-yee in the studio of Hong Kong Citizen News.

“I don’t have to give up. I will continue to practice journalism and do reporting as long as I can.”

All by Oneself 

Another former Apple Daily reporter Leung Ka-lai is also determined to stay in the industry. She is now an independent journalist who posts stories about the aftermaths of the social movement on her personal Facebook page.

Leung has been a journalist for more than 15 years. Before Leung was invited to join Apple Daily’s local news features section in June 2018, she worked for other local news media outlets like The Standard, U Magazine, Metro Pop, and Ming Pao Daily.

Even though many of her ex-colleagues have left the industry, she believes in the value of quality journalistic work and is determined to stay on.

The Facebook page of independent journalist Leung Ka-lai.

“I want to make a record of what is happening to this generation,” she says. Leung’s Facebook page currently has more than 26,000 followers while her Patreon page has around 200 followers.

“Who controls the past controls the future, and who controls the present controls the past,” she quotes from the dystopian novel Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell. She believes that it is important to record the history of Hong Kong in her stories.

Leung feels sad about the news industry in Hong Kong. “The authorities not only suppress press freedom in Hong Kong, but also treat journalists like criminals,” Leung says.

Being an independent journalist, Leung does not have any legal support. “No one backs me up. No one offers me legal advice,” she says.

Leung fears that if she has any legal troubles, she will have no financial and legal support but her own.

“The reason why I am committed to be a journalist is not for myself. I do this for the truth. I do this for Hong Kong history,” Leung says.

Independent journalist Leung Ka-lai has a tattoo on her right arm, which says “I’d rather die for speaking out, than to live and be silent” in Chinese.

“The reason why I am committed to be a journalist is not for myself. I do this for the truth. I do this for Hong Kong history.”

Penniless Journalism

Apart from local news reporters, seven former Apple Daily sports reporters set up Sportsone (體壹), an independent online news media to continue their journey in journalism. Ping is one of them. He refuses to reveal his full identity due to safety reasons.

“We do not want to give up and leave the news industry… We want to speak up for Hong Kong athletes and coaches,” Ping, who had worked for Apple Daily for 26 years, says.

Sportsone’s Facebook Page.

The Facebook page has over 75,000 followers, but they are still struggling to survive.

Ping’s teammates take up part-time or full-time jobs and spend their free time to work for the platform. “We still cannot make enough to pay reporters and cover their travel expenses,” he sighs.

“Sportsone cannot solely rely on Facebook in maintaining its operation. Facebook likes cannot be turned into income. Our members have to find other ways to survive financially,” Ping says.

Despite the hardship, Ping’s team is trying their best to sustain its operation. “We are still passionate about sports and journalism. Passion is the reason why we continue reporting sports news,” he says.

“We do not want to give up and leave the news industry… We want to speak up for Hong Kong athletes and coaches.”

Limitations of Independent Journalists

Ronson Chan Ron-sing, chairperson of Hong Kong Journalist Association (HKJA) says being independent journalists now in Hong Kong is “really hard”.

“They work hard for their passion, but their income is not enough for daily expenses. It is not sustainable,” he says.

Chan thinks the shutdown of Apple Daily not only has killed 600 to 1,000 jobs in the journalism industry, but also limits news coverage about Hong Kong.

“The manpower of Apple Daily was bountiful…It is very difficult (for existing news media outlets) to fill the gap that Apple Daily has left,” he sighs.

“It is very difficult (for existing news media outlets) to fill the gap that Apple Daily has left.”

Edited by Hayley Wong
Sub-edited by Mandy Yim

Crackdown on Private Tutoring

The Chinese government has introduced new regulations to cut down tutoring hours, leading to unemployment and forcing companies to restructure their business models.

By Jack Deng

Zhang Lihui started his private tutoring agency in August 2018 after working as a private tutor for three years. But his business has been badly affected by a government policy introduced in July.

“I used to have 400 people working for me, and now I have to cut 20 per cent of them. Half of my students left, and I have to refund all the fees to parents, which puts me under financial pressure,” the 38-year-old private tutoring agency founder says.

Zhang’s agency has six branches offering courses that cover all subjects taught in primary and middle schools such as Mathematics, English, Physics, Chemistry and so on during weekdays, weekends, and holidays.

His business has been severely hit since the Chinese government rolled out a set of measures known as the “double reduction”, which aimed at reducing homework and restricting off-campus tutoring for students from kindergarten to 12th grade or K-12 in July.

More than 160,000 tutoring agencies have closed down due to the “double reduction” policy.

One of the policy measures bans private tutoring agencies to offer after-school classes on weekends, holidays, summer, and winter breaks. Tutoring is only allowed on weekdays with a limited number of hours.

A government guide was also issued to regulate tuition fees of courses for students undergoing compulsory education in China.

Zhang says the policy is killing their business. “It is impossible to operate if we follow the official guide on tuition fee charges. We cannot make any profit,” he says.

“When I first started the business 13 years ago, there were no regulations or government restrictions,” Zhang says. “Parents and schools wanted us to help their children and students to get into prestigious schools,” he adds.

“Even big companies like New Oriental Education & Technology Group (Xindongfang) cannot escape. They stopped offering online classes in August immediately. Many teachers have lost their jobs, and no help is offered to them,” Zhang says.

Zhu Yu, vice-president and chief executive officer of Oriental Youbo (New Oriental’s online K-12 course project), posted a message on WeChat in September saying that the company was financially healthy. Oriental Youbo promised to refund all tuition fees to students and compensated its employees. “After finishing all these, I think I will go to teach in rural villages for a year or two,” Zhu said in the post.

New Oriental Education & Technology Group Inc(Xindongfang) is the largest player in the private tutoring market in China. The company had 1,600 branches and over two million students all over the country, according to its third-quarter financial report in the 2021 fiscal year. It mainly offered courses related to the Test of English as a Foreign Language (TOEFL) and for K-12 students.

Zhang says he will change his business model. “We can run calligraphy classes or Lego playgroups since those are not related to the compulsory education,” he explains.

“As long as the demand exists, there is always a way out. The requirement of elite school admission is getting higher,” Zhang says.

Private tutors are also badly affected by the policy. However, it is hard for the government to monitor individual tutoring. Some private tutors continue to coach students, although they will be punished by the Ministry of Education of the People’s Republic of China if someone reported them.

Liu Guodong, 28, has been working in the education industry as a private tutor for four years. He has become underemployed due to the “double reduction” policy.

“I used to teach 40 hours per week. But now I can only teach three hours a week. And I am doing it illegally. I must sneak into students’ homes on weekends. I dare not to tell anyone about this,” he says.

The computer science major graduate is now teaching one on one lessons with middle school students in Foshan, a city in Guangdong province.

Liu’s income dropped by 80 per cent after the government introduced the new policy to crack down on private tutoring. He cannot afford to pay his mortgage due to the massive pay cut.

“My friends who worked as private tutors lost their jobs as well. It’s the policy from the ‘top’ (government), we have no say,” he adds.

“I am doing it illegally. I must sneak into students’ homes on weekends. I dare not to tell anyone about this.”

Edward Vickers, professor of the Department of Education at Kyushu University believes that the “double reduction” policy will not tackle root problems.

“Tutoring may happen in people’s homes and can be paid in cash. The government won’t be able to track these consumptions. The mom might quit her job to coach their children at home. That will bring even more financial pressure on this family,” Vickers explains.

“The Chinese government is only dealing with the symptom but not the causes. The main reason for the problem is a sense of insecurity. The number of well-paid jobs is limited in the Chinese economy. People are getting so desperate hence they rely on their child to go to a good university to find a good job,” Vickers adds.

“The Chinese government is only dealing with the symptom but not the causes. The main reason for the problem is a sense of insecurity.”

He believes that the “double reduction” policy will also have a negative impact on the economy in general, especially for foreign investors.

“It is also a signal for investors. Now everyone wants to pull out. Just like the ‘double reduction’ policy…it happened overnight without any signs. Investing in China will face some kinds of risks because certain industries can be suddenly cracked down,” Vickers says.

Edited by Coco Zhang
Sub-edited by Charlie Yip & Gloria Wei

Heritage Conservation? or Conversion?

Amid rising attention to Hong Kong cultural heritage by the young generation, the Central Market is newly opened to the public.

By Felicia Lam

Casper Yam Ming-ho is so passionate about heritage conservation that he started an Instagram page called Commosus in June 2021.

“I first learnt about heritage conservation when I was a kid. My grandpa took me out weekly for lunch at a restaurant near Lui Seng Chun. I enjoyed looking at the old building at that time. I think conserving heritage sites is meaningful as it can keep the history of Hong Kong alive,” he says.

Lui Seng Chun is an old Chinese shophouse which was built in 1931. It is a Grade 1 historic building and is currently operated by the Hong Kong Baptist University as a Chinese medicine healthcare centre.

“My friends started to care more about heritage sites as they recognise themselves as a Hongkonger and grow a stronger sense of belonging to the city. They ask me to take them to heritage sites in Hong Kong,” says Yam.

“I am glad to see that public awareness about heritage conservation has increased in recent years. Public awareness is essential to push the government to protect historic sites,” he adds.

Yam finds that many social media pages are promoting Hong Kong culture and heritage conservation, but he thinks many page owners lack professional knowledge about conservation and heritage sites.

“Some of the page owners express their opinions based on inaccurate information, and their views on conservation projects are biased. Their views may misinform the public about heritage conservation and mislead them to think that commercialising heritage sites is wrong,” he says.

“My friends started to care more about heritage sites as they recognise themselves as a Hongkonger and grow a stronger sense of belonging to the city.”

  • The Central Market revitalisation project was guided by four pillars – physical condition, legislation requirements, retention of cultural significance and stakeholders' requirements.

Yam understands that commercialisation is a must to preserve heritage sites and make them sustainable. But he thinks that the Central Market is over-commercialised.

The Central Market is a government-owned Grade 3 historic building. As one of the oldest wet markets, the 82-year-old building used to be a vibrant place for residents nearby to buy groceries and build a local network until 2003.

In 2009, the Central Market was announced to be revitalised as a response to the Chief Executive’s Policy Address.

After three years of revitalisation by the Urban Renewal Authority (URA), the building with the long-standing history re-opened in August 2021 and will be operated by Chinachem Group for 10 years.

“Most of the stalls sell high-class goods and the first public activity at the site is a science education workshop which is not related to the site’s historical or cultural value,” Yam says.

Katty Law Ngar-ning, convenor of the Central and Western Concern Group, agrees with Yam. She says the younger generation born in and after the 1980s have a strong awareness about heritage conservation, citing the protest to urge the government to conserve Central Star Ferry Pier as an example.

In 2006, the government demolished the 48-year-old Central Star Ferry Pier for the Central and Wan Chai Reclamation. Many young people protested to show their discontent.

“After this incident, young people at that time started to care more about heritage conservation. Voices about protecting historical sites grew louder and that has planted seeds of heritage conservation in the next generation,” says Law.

The concern group convenor has also been following the Central Market revitalisation project.

“The Central Market was originally planned to be sold to developers. It is preserved and protected now because of public concern,” says Law.

“The over-commercialisation of the whole site by introducing high-end stores such as bars and luxurious cake shops contradicts with the original wet market vibes of the Central Market,” she adds.

“The over-commercialisation of the whole site by introducing high-end stores such as bars and luxurious cake shops contradicts with the original wet market vibes of the Central Market.”

  • The first exhibition held in August 2021 at the Central Market was a workshop of STEAM education. (Photo courtesy of The Urban Renewal Authority)

“It is sad to see that many special features are removed after the revitalisation. For instance, handrails are added to the signature staircases and the windows near Des Voeux Road are removed and replaced by glass walls,” she says.

Wilfred Au Chun-ho, Director (Planning and Design) of the URA, shares a different concern. He thinks that it is difficult to strike a balance between different concerns for the Central Market project.

“We have spent three years collecting views from more than 10,000 citizens and professionals. The study finding shows the public wants to preserve the historical features of the structure instead of commercialising the site,” he says.

Au and his team also faced safety constraints in the project.

“The site was built in 1939 and extra measures and facilities have to be added to ensure that it is safe for people to enjoy the site,” he says.

“The URA also hopes to suggest new placemaking ideas and connect the Central Market with other heritage sites like Tai Kwun and PMQ to build a ‘cultural triangle’ in the Central and Western District,” he adds.

Lee Ho-yin, associate professor of Architectural Conservation at the University of Hong Kong, says that public awareness about heritage conservation has grown stronger as developments in Hong Kong matured.

“No one cared about heritage conservation, and everyone was busy making a living in the 1970s. People who were born in the 1980s were the first generation who grew up in a mature society and started to care more about culture and heritage conservation,” he says.

Lee points out that it is an outdated and unsustainable common belief that preserving a site entirely is the best way of conservation.

“As a lot of early conservation theories are borrowed from archaeology and museology, people from older generation follow these theories and are dissatisfied about the URA for being unable to entirely preserve the site’s outlook,” the architectural conservation professor says.

“I think preservation is a way to make a heritage site sustainable and fulfil a certain function in the community rather than a goal. The revitalised Central Market serves the community by providing space for locals and avoiding competition with a nearby wet market at Graham Street,” he adds.

“More importantly the site supports young entrepreneurs. The site not only provides stalls with cheaper rent but also teaches young people about how to run and sustain their business,” says Lee.

Lee also thinks that property developers and the public should do more.

“The property developers should spend their money on heritage conservation as a redistribution of their wealth to the citizens. The citizens should also actively urge property developers and the government to preserve heritage sites,” he says.

“People who were born in the 1980s were the first generation who grew up in a mature society and started to care more about culture and heritage conservation.”

Edited by Soweon Park
Sub-edited by Lynne Rao

What Else is in a Blind Box? “Love”

Participants leaving their WeChat accounts in a blind box. (Photo courtesy of Huang Shiwen)

Young people in China have come up with a way of exchanging contacts through blind boxes to meet new friends.

By Ryan Li

Steven Zhang*, a 25-year-old bachelor in Guangzhou, China, joined Blind Box for Love on September 13, 2021, wishing to find a lover.

He received two friend requests through WeChat, an instant chat application in China, after leaving his contact in a blind box that cost him RMB ¥2 (US $0.31). He had chats with his new friends, exchanging basic information such as age and hobbies.

“I have very long working hours and have no time to make new friends,” says Zhang who works in the construction industry. He thinks that Blind Box for Love provides a new way to start a romantic relationship.

Zhang has already participated in several different blind box activities since September 10, 2021. He has added contacts of 10 girls to his WeChat friend list so far. They have short and simple conversations most of the time due to “lack of common topics”.

Inside the Blind Box

Blind Boxes operate like toys packed in boxes with the same appearances and sold by vending machines or in stores. In Blind Box for Love activities, or Tuodanmanghe (脫單盲盒) in Chinese, buyers pay for a blind box containing a note with contact information of a stranger.

A participant can leave his or her WeChat account on a note in a paper-made blind box or take a note left by others. No further information other than gender is required. Each box costs RMB ¥1-2 (US $0.16-0.31). Then participants can make use of contact information inside blind boxes to start a conversation through WeChat.

Posts about Blind Box for Love on RED, a social media platform in China where users share their life experience.

Katrina Pan*, who is a 19-year-old university student in Nanyang, Guangdong province, left two notes with her contact in a blind box activity on September 1, 2021.

“I wanted to see what kind of people I would meet by luck, out of curiosity. But it largely depends on what the participants are like,” Pan says.

Blind Box for Love has two categories with one for heterosexual lovers and another for homosexual group. As a member of LGBTQ+ community, Pan was contacted by two girls.

“I wanted to see what kind of people I would meet by luck.”

However, she only chatted once with them upon adding on WeChat, with no further interactions. Pan is disappointed and thinks that she will not try the blind box again. “There are too many uncertainties,” she says.

Unexpected Popularity

One of the Blind Box for Love activities that Zhang and Pan joined was held by Huang Shiwen, who operates a blind box stall and prepares blind boxes for participants together with her two friends.

Huang Shiwen and her friends’ blind box stall in Guangzhou, which involves 100 to 150 participants per day on average.
(Photo courtesy of Huang Shiwen)

Huang, a 20-year-old student majoring in economics at the University of Washington in the U.S., has been staying at home in Guangzhou for online study because of the pandemic.

She spotted the trend of Blind Box for Love activities on RED, a Chinese social media platform where users share their life experience, on August 24, 2021. She was inspired by the idea so she started her own stall.

“We have multiple channels to meet friends nowadays, but the blind box seems purer to me compared to online dating applications. No extra information needed. It is all about luck,” she says. 

“We have multiple channels to meet friends nowadays, but the blind box seems purer to me compared to online dating applications.”

Three days after coming up with the idea of setting up a stall, Huang and her friends stood by the street of Jiangnanxi, a business district in Guangzhou, Guangdong province.

Huang makes about RMB ¥250 (US $38.78) a day in total, involving 100 to 150 participants per day on average. “We didn’t expect so many people would be interested. From 8:00 p.m. to 10:30 p.m. every day, none of us have taken a rest,” she adds.

Huang Shiwen (middle) and her friends standing behind their blind box stall.
(Photo courtesy of Huang Shiwen)

Huang and her friends also initiated an online version. People leave their contacts to Huang through private messages on RED, and Huang then writes a note for each of them and drops it into a blind box.

According to Huang’s observation, most of the participants are female college students, while male participants are at the age of 25 on average.

Huang thinks some of the participants do have the expectation of finding partners through blind boxes. “Everyone understands that the chance is rare,” she says.

“But it’s still good to have one more friend for your contact lists and gives likes to your posts on WeChat even relationship does not work out,” she adds.

A New Option

Chan Lik Sam, associate professor at the School of Journalism and Communication at the Chinese University of Hong Kong, believes that young people’s desire of meeting new people and the “luck by chance” principle of the game are the two factors that make Blind Box for Love popular.

“Young people do have the desire to make their peer circle bigger, which has motivated the development of dating technology,” says Chan, who researches online dating applications and interpersonal communication.

“While dating technology is visually driven, the blind box’s rule is designed to have WeChat ID as the only information, thus resulting in participants’ lower level of purposefulness,” Chan adds.

“The blind box’s rule is designed to have WeChat ID as the only information, thus resulting in participants’ lower level of purposefulness.”

In one of his research papers published in 2020, Chan looked into multiple uses of Momo, a Chinese dating application. He suggested that informants demonstrated dislike towards strong “mudixing” (目的性, purposefulness) when using dating apps.

Chan also holds the view that young people in China seem to be unwilling to date “in any form”, which also contributes to the popularity of Blind Box for Love.

* Names changed at interviewees’ request.

Edited by Lynne Rao
Sub-edited by Vivian Cao

Less Tutoring, More Anxiety

Despite effort to ease pressure on school pupils and parents, the Chinese education system remains competitive.

By Ella Lang

Mary Li enrolled her eight-year-old son in English, drawing, and Lego classes when he was four. When the boy started to go to primary school, other than 40 hours per week in school, he had to spend nine hours on five after-school classes including English and Mathematics.

“Every parent in Shanghai does the same thing. Children will fall behind if they do not take extra classes,” Li says.

Li’s family spends about RMB ¥60,000 (US $9,282) a year on tutoring classes and has spent over RMB ¥200,000 (US $30,940) since her son started attending tutoring classes. Every year countless families fork out for off-campus classes for their children, contributing to the booming tutoring industry in China.

“CHILDREN WILL FALL BEHIND IF THEY DO NOT TAKE EXTRA CLASSES.”

The market size of China’s after-school tutoring for kindergarten to 12th grade (K-12) students reached RMB ¥800 billion (US $123.7 billion) in 2019, and was predicted to break RMB ¥1 trillion (US $0.15 trillion) by 2025, according to a 2020 report by management consulting firm Oliver Wyman.

China banned for-profit tutoring in core education to rein in the country’s private education industry and improve school-life balance for families in July 2021. The policy, dubbed “double reduction”, aims at releasing the burden of off-campus tutoring for students at the stage of compulsory education and excessive homework assigned by schools.

Under the new policy, all private tutoring institutions are banned from making profits by providing tutoring services of school curriculum subjects such as English and Mathematics during weekends, holidays, or after 9:00 p.m. on weekdays. Tutoring is only allowed on weekdays with a limited number of hours.

China issued the “double reduction” policy in late July.
(Source: The State Council of The People’s Republic of China)

After the “Double Reduction” Policy

Li signed up her son for English and Mathematics tutoring classes on Monday and Friday respectively before the “double reduction” policy was introduced. Each lesson lasts for two hours and ends before 9:00 p.m. Her son also has calligraphy, street dance, and basketball classes during weekends.

“All arrangements can remain unchanged because they all meet the time restrictions. But I still dropped Mathematics class provided by leading training organisation Xueersi（學而思）for my son, as he has to stay in school for one more hour. That is quite tiring for him,” Li says.

The “double reduction” policy came with many supporting measures. One of them is to make students stay at school longer by providing free after-school services. Teachers will either help students finish their homework or carry out extracurricular activities based on students’ interests during the extra hours after school, according to a circular issued in June by the Ministry of Education.

“But if my son fails to perform well in school when he goes to high school, I will still sign him up for private tutoring classes,” Li says.

Many parents in China like Li are still worried about their children’s education, although the “double reduction” policy aims to reduce student’s burden and ease parents’ anxiety.

Another anxious parent is Zhou Chunmei in Kunming, the capital city of Yunnan province. The English tutoring agency her son used to go for classes has stopped offering lessons after the policy was introduced. Luckily, she received a full refund from the agency.

Her nine-year-old son Yi Zhishan feels happy about the change. His weekends used to be filled with off-campus classes since he was seven with drawing, piano, programming, tennis, and English classes.

“The English class used to take three hours. Now I can spend time with my friends and family instead,” Yi says. “I am so happy that I can go to amusement parks more often!”

Yi Zhishan, Zhou’s nine-year-old son, is doing homework.
(Photo Courtesy of Zhou Chunmei)

But his mother is still planning to sign him up for English tutoring classes later. “I will wait for a while to see how the policy is implemented. If the restriction loosens, I will get my son to do English tutoring again,” she says.

Zhou is worried about her son falling behind his peers. “If everybody quits off-campus tutoring, then I will certainly applaud the ‘double reduction’. Both parents and students can escape from fierce competition and take a breath of relief. But in fact, the competition still exists,” Zhou says.

Another parent, Selena Zheng, has to cancel Chinese and Mathematics private tutoring classes for her ten-year-old son because the private tutoring agency is no longer allowed to offer classes on weekends. Zheng saves RMB ¥20,000 (US $3,094) per year by cancelling the classes, but she cannot feel any pleasure from this. 

“I am quite worried that he may not learn as well as before. Without extra classes, students’ self-motivation becomes more important,” Zheng says. 

She adds that her son is also not happy about this, as he feels stressed about fighting for a school place of an elite secondary school after becoming a fifth grade student this September.

“As long as there is a university entrance examination, parents will never stop feeling anxious,” Zheng says.

“Those tutoring agencies took care of my anxieties and worries about my child’s education before the ‘double reduction’ policy was implemented. So, now I feel more stressed without the tutoring agencies, and I cannot find a way out,” she adds.

No One Will Stop

Edward Vickers, professor of the Department of Education at Kyushu University, thinks the new policy will not solve the problem.

“The competition will continue, but it will take new forms. Most families will face considerable struggles,” Vickers says.

Vickers thinks private tutoring will continue at private homes on a one-to-one basis, in ways that are very difficult to monitor and in ways that will increase inequality. “You will have to be wealthier to afford,” he says.

He adds that the South Korean government made a radical attempt to crack down private tutoring agencies years ago, but it did not work.

“Because you are not dealing with the demand for tutoring. The Chinese government is only dealing with the symptoms of the disease of educational competition by closing down tutoring agencies, but not dealing with what is causing this educational competition, which is credentialism,” he says.

“Because you are not dealing with the demand for tutoring.”

Edited by Vivian Cao & Gloria Wei
Sub-edited by Lynne Rao & Linn Wu

Millennials Return to Nature

More young people in South Korea develop a career in farming recently.

By Chaelim Kim

Kim Young-jin, 27, has been running a blueberry farm for four years after graduating from the Korea National College of Agriculture and Fisheries (KNCAF).

“My father saw possibilities in farming and suggested I study agriculture at university,” he says.

More young people develop a career in farming in South Korea. The number of young farmers under 30 increased by 12.7 per cent over the past year, according to The National Statistical Office.

One of them is Kim who specialised in mushroom production in his study. “Mushrooms were sold at a very low price when I graduated in 2016, so I decided to grow something else,” he says.

He plants blueberries in his 4600-square-metre land because the land is steep, and it can grow limited crops. Blueberry is also a popular fruit in Korea these days.

Kim Young-jin feels happy when his customers and friends enjoy his blueberries. (Photo courtesy of Kim Young-jin)

“The hardest part about starting my farm was securing starting fund. Being a newcomer in the rural area, without knowing anyone, was tough too,” he says.

Kim applied for a government subsidy in 2016 under the ‘Youth Farmer Fostering Policy,’ a scheme that aims to help farmers aged between 20 and 40.

“The scheme subsidises a farmer for three years. A farmer can get a monthly support fund of 1,000,000 won (US $1,000) in the first year, 900,000 won (US $900) in the second year, and 800,000 won (US $800) in the third year,” he says.

“You cannot survive just by growing crops unless you are rich enough to hire employees,” he says. Kim starts his day at 5:30 a.m. and does everything from growing to harvesting by himself. He is also the marketing officer. “Farming is not as simple as it seems. You need to have different skills to make it happen,” he says.

“Farming is not as simple as it seems. You need to have different skills to make it happen.”

Kim reminds future farmers to make as many visits as possible to farming communities beforehand. “Learn from experienced farmers and make very specific plans,” he says.

While there are young farmers like Kim who want to start their own farming business, there are also young farmers who just want to be self-sufficient.

Baik Ji-hyeon and Kim Chan-mi are young part-time farmers in their early 20s. Baik is a university student majoring in history. Kim is a stored-food shop owner who sells different kinds of pesto and pickled food. They are members of Pusil, a group of 10 young farmers practising sustainable farming.

Kim Chan-mi’s Lotus Root Store opened on 28, August, 2021 in Incheon, a city which is 25 kilometres from her farm. (Photo courtsey of Kim Chan-mi)

“I started farming in 2020 because I realised that my freedom is actually a product of exploiting others. I just want to grow enough food for myself,” Baik says.

Baik’s farming partner Kim Chan-mi learned about agriculture when she was a chef. “I love nature and cooking with my own produce. I wanted to farm since I was young,” Kim Chan-mi says.

No chemical fertiliser nor machinery is used in Pusil farm. “My work follows my belief. But sometimes I think modern technology can make the work easier,” Kim Chan-mi says.

“We have to clear weeds with our hands. It takes time and efforts to farm sustainably,” Baik says.

“We have to clear weeds with our hands. It takes time and efforts to farm sustainably.”

Kim Chan-mi harvests sesame in Pusil farm. In Pusil, farmer practises sustainable farming. (Photo courtesy of Kim Chan-mi)

Their hardship pays off when people enjoy their produce. “When my friends smile eating my produce—that is the happiest moment of farming,” Baik says.

Kim Chan-mi feels the same way when she cooks with her produce. “Being able to say ‘This is made out of my crops’ is a big joy,” she says.

Han Ok-gyu, a professor in the Department of Food Crops at KNCAF, says government subsidy and keen competition in cities are the two main reasons why young people join farming.

“The government introduced various measures to encourage more young people to settle in the ageing rural communities,” he says.

Han is optimistic about the future of agricultural industry. “There is potential because the industry is less developed than others. Farming can offer new opportunities to young people,” he says

Professor Han advises young farmers to be well-prepared. “A new and young farmer should also harmonise with the local community in order to be a successful farmer,” he says.

Edited by Eve Lee
Sub-edited by Soweon Park and Charile Yip

A Cantonese Fan from London

Polyglot Grace Njoku learns Cantonese by herself and shares her learning experience on YouTube.

By Winkie Ng

Like many Hongkongers, Grace Njoku falls in love with celebrity Anson Lo, member of a Cantonese boy band Mirror after watching Hong Kong drama Ossan’s Love.

The 17-year-old Irish girl living in London has been learning Cantonese for four years. She can understand many slangs and jokes in the popular drama about gay love. 

“I actually watched Ossan’s Love without any English subtitles. I was so proud because I actually understood it. (It was the) first drama I have watched without English subtitles,” the high school student says.

Njoku’s passion for Cantonese was first ignited when she heard her Chinese friend’s mother speaking Cantonese in 2016.

“I used to feel a bit left out. I never really understood what was going on. If her mum spoke to me, my friend had to be the middle person to translate. I just really hated that,” she recalls.

“I like learning languages, so I was like—Why not just try learning Cantonese? I just thought it will be fun and I will be able to understand,” the Irish girl adds.

Njoku, who is now 17-year-old, can speak six languages: English, Japanese, Mandarin, Cantonese, French and Igbo.

“It (Cantonese) is always very expressive and passionate, so I quite like that,” she says.

Njoku is especially fond of the pronunciation of Cantonese.

“It sounds really funny. It is like singing songs…Even now I have been learning for so many years, whenever I watch anything in Cantonese, I really like the way it sounds,” she adds.

A Bumpy Cantonese Learning Journey

Njoku finds speaking Cantonese difficult at the beginning.

“I couldn’t pronounce the tones. While I was listening, I couldn’t hear the difference between tones. Everything just sounded the same. It was really hard to pronounce and to understand people,” she says.

Grace Njoku takes note of the tones when she learns Cantonese vocabulary. (Photo courtesy of Grace Njoku)

Lacking resources to learn Cantonese in London is another difficulty she encountered.

“I went to a book shop and tried to look for books. Everything was (for learning) Mandarin and Chinese. There was nothing for Cantonese,” she sighs.

But Njoku manages to overcome many obstacles and picks up Cantonese by watching different Cantonese videos and dramas.

“I like watching YouTube videos because they are really easy and short. But recently I just finished a drama, which was Ossan’s Love. I think it is really good so I want to watch more (Cantonese) dramas,” the polyglot says.

Njoku believes Cantonese can be mastered with ease once a person learns the tones.

“I don’t think the grammar is too complicated. When you are able to pronounce the tones. Everything then is not really too difficult,” she says.

She also discovers the beauty of Hong Kong culture.

 “When I first learnt Cantonese, I knew nothing about it…It was the real learning when I found out it was spoken in Hong Kong. Then I started to know about Hong Kong culture and I fell in love with that as well,” she says.

Though Njoku has not been to Hong Kong, she loves the Hong Kong dishes at London’s Chinatown.

“I would say (my favourite foods are) dim sum and desserts like pineapple buns and egg tarts,” she says

Grace Njoku loves making Hong Kong dishes such as scrambled eggs with tomatoes at home. (Photo courtesy of Grace Njoku)

Helping Other Cantonese Learners

Njoku launched her YouTube channel two years ago to share language learning tips. She has about 36,300 subscribers and over 70 videos as of early November.

Nearly a quarter of her videos are about enhancing Cantonese learning and exploring Hong Kong culture.

Her most popular video Black Girl Orders Dim Sum in Perfect Cantonese published last November has garnered over 527,000 views.

“I realised that there might be people like me who are looking for people (who share their Cantonese learning experience) on YouTube, but there weren’t many. So I want to become one of those people and help any other person who is learning Cantonese,” she adds.

Being a YouTuber also helps Njoku build a network and reach out to people who speak different languages including Cantonese around the world.

“Before YouTube, I barely had anybody to speak to. Now, it’s nice that I have people to practise with,” Njoku says.

Besides Cantonese learners, many native speakers also find Njoku’s YouTube videos appealing and follow her on social media.

“When I have questions about Cantonese, I post it on my Instagram. Immediately, I get responses because I have many Hongkongers following me,” she adds.

Grace Njoku learns Cantonese idioms and phrases from her Hong Kong friend. (Photo courtesy of Grace Njoku)

Njoku is happy to see many positive comments on her videos, praising her great effort and accurate pronunciations.

“Seeing those comments makes me believe more in myself. It gives me motivations…(and makes me feel) like I am doing really well now,” she explains.

Sometimes there are a few negative comments, criticising her Cantonese is not impressive enough. Njoku just deletes them and keeps working hard.

Njoku loves Cantonese a lot and wishes there will be more Cantonese learners.

“It will be really sad if it dies and no one speaks (Cantonese) anymore. So I just hope more people can learn Cantonese and people can just continue to speak Cantonese,” Njoku says.

Edited by Linn Wu
Sub-edited by Kelly Yu

2021 Election Committee Subsector Ordinary Elections

The Election Committee subsector elections held on 19 September, 2021 was a far cry from the 2016 polls, in terms of size of the electorate, with a 97 per cent drop in registered voters.

By Pak Hei Leung & Christopher James Lee

Under the new electoral framework imposed by the National People’s Congress (NPC), the 2021 Election Committee subsector ordinary elections saw a 97 per cent decrease in registered voters.

A total of 7,891 voters registered for the 2021 Election Committee election, among whom only 4,889 had to vote, since the rest of the subsectors were uncontested. There were 246,440 registered voters in the last election held in 2016. A total of 412 candidates contest 364 out of the 1,500 seat.

Over 300 people queued outside the Hong Kong Convention and Exhibition Centre to watch the vote counting process at 5:45 pm.
Members of the Federation of Hong Kong and Kowloon Labour Unions (HKFLU), the third largest trade union in Hong Kong, distributed leaflets near the Immigration Tower in Wan Chai.
Secretary of Security Chris Tang Ping-keung arrived at the Hong Kong Convention and Exhibition
Centre at 4:45pm.
The first batch of ballots arrived at the Hong Kong Convention and Exhibition Centre at 7:10 pm.

Electoral Affairs Commission chairman Barnabas Fung Wah apologized for the delay in the announcement of results and admitted the process of vote counting was “unsatisfactory”. Fung expected all results to be announced at around 8am the next day. It took almost 14 hours to finish counting 4,380 votes.

He explained that the problem lied with ballot verification papers – there were human errors with the frontline staff, causing discrepancies on the fill-in ballot paper account.

The Electoral Affairs Commission announced at 8:55 pm that the public gallery has reached full capacity.
Electoral Affairs Commission chairman Barnabus Fung Wah and Constitutional and Mainland Affairs chief Erick Tsang Kwok-wai opened the first ballot box at 9:10 pm.


Edited by Mandy YIM

A Neighbourhood Complying with the Trend of Times

Tangled up in redevelopment and a railway launch, To Kwa Wan residents find ways to cope with the changes in the old neighbourhood.

By Kajal Aidasani

Mok Suk-fan, who has been working in To Kwa Wan for 15 years, feels numb about redevelopment plans in the area and the newly launched MTR Tuen Ma Line.

“Shops being acquired, people moving out… all these have been going on for over 10 years. I am so used to all these new establishments such as Grand Waterfront and Sky Tower,” says Mok, who is a clerk and health worker at Kau Pui Lung Elderly Home.

The elderly home is only a three-minute walk from the MTR station opened since June 27. The railway has brought convenience to Mok and families of the elderly home residents by reducing their commuting time and that encourages them to visit the elderly more frequently.

The district in eastern Kowloon houses over 20 elderly homes. Mok says even with the rising rent, none of them plan to relocate. But shops in the neighbourhood are not that lucky.

An area stretching from Chatham Road north to Ma Tau Wai Road was known as the “Furniture Street”, where many shops vended imported furniture of various styles.

Mok says the noise and road blockage caused by the station’s construction, which lasted for nine years, greatly affected the business of the furniture shops.

“Furniture Street” is now packed with shops selling bread, noodles, paper offerings, and many more.

A hardware store and a candy shop which Mok used to visit are closed. The site where they were located is now zoned for urban renewal.

Kalo Supermarket, a grocery shop run by Winnie Wong, is one of those affected by the redevelopment plans. Her shop moved from Hung Fook Street to Yuk Shing Street, in June.

“To be honest, small shops like us are all struggling. We are just waiting for government’s compensation,” Wong says.

Her shop has withstood the test of time in one of Hong Kong’s oldest districts for nearly two decades. It was even featured in a local illustrator, Wai-wai’s postcard set entitled “Vintage Shop with Love” with 19 sketches of shops in 2016.

Wong’s shop was loved by the community – kids used to go for soda drinks after school, and their parents bought daily necessities such as soy sauce. Workers used to gather there for beer, and some spent quality time petting Wong’s cat at the shop.

Customers used to spend quality time petting the cat at Kalo Supermarket.

Wong says her business has not benefited from the newly launched MTR line as her regular customers were relocated to public housing estates in other districts. “I am suffering from 60 per cent business loss, meaning almost no salary,” she says.

The shop owner says her old customers still visit her at the shop. “They come back two to three times a week to take a final glimpse before more buildings get demolished,” she says.

Although she feels attached to the blue-collar neighbourhood, she believes it is time to use an uplift.

“The walls are cracked and leakage is a problem. It is similar to old people like me. When your internal system is malfunctioning, there is no way to repair. You have to change the entire thing,” she says.

The 55-year-old grocery shop owner has spent 30 years in To Kwa Wan. She hopes she can stay in the district for the rest of her life.

“My youth is here,” she sighs. “I will live here anyway, but I am not sure about my shop. The neighbourhood is changing, and all I can do is to go with the flow,” she says.

The neighbourhood is changing, and all I can do is to go with the flow.

Also being subjected to move are ethnic minority residents in the culturally diverse community. According to the 2016 Population By-Census, 10.1 per cent of Kowloon City District’s population, To Kwa Wan included, were ethnic minorities. One of them is Pakistan-born Wasal Khan, owner of Mashaallah Provision Store, who feels uncertain about the future.

Wasal Khan at his snack shop.

He has lived in To Kwa Wan for nine years, and his shop which sells South Asian snacks opened two years ago.

Khan’s home and his shop are both in the redevelopment area. He has signed the relocation agreement but has not been informed about the official vacate date yet.

His monthly rental expense stays at HK$8600 during the years of urban renewal project. But his business has dropped 70 per cent since the redevelopment projects emptied five streets by the end of August.

“Buildings are cleared up. They are all empty places now. Before there was no MTR, and now there is,” 43-year-old Khan says.

Khan thinks he does not benefit from the new MTR line as his old customers are no longer here. They order delivery by telephone once in a while, and do not do shopping as often as before.

According to the Urban Renewal Authority’s website, a “people first, district-based, public participatory” approach should be adopted to carry out urban renewal, with their sustainability aim to support social inclusiveness and social mobility of the underprivileged.

Notice posted by the Urban Renewal Authority in the redevelopment zone.

But many of Khan’s friends had to move out of To Kwa Wan and bear higher living costs.

Khan prefers staying in the area and moving both his shop and home to the nearby wet market. “I have many friends here. I have business here, and I have my home here, so it (To Kwa Wan) is special (to me),” he says.

Chloe Au Yee-wing, a social worker in the To Kwa Wan urban renewal social service team, thinks the place is unique for its intangible connections between people.

The renewal projects involving Wing Kwong Street, Kai Ming Street, Hung Fook Street, Yuk Shing Street and Ngan Hon Street came to an end by August, with the last two shops moved out on August 16 and the last resident moved out on August 31.

Au says though many elderly people have resettled in buildings with lifts, they prefer their old homes where they grew up with fond memories.

She recalls seeing the charm of the neighbourhood when she first started working in the area two years ago.

“Walking from one end of the street to another, everyone greeted one another. They gathered around a burst water main and joked about it. They put down shopping bags at shops and retrieved them later at night… Small communities with close ties like these are becoming rare in Hong Kong,” she says.

“Strong community networks may be alien to the young generation. Urban renewal and redevelopment are not just about demolishing, compensating and relocating. The ties between people matter too,” Au adds.

Urban renewal and redevelopment are not just about demolishing, compensating and relocating. The ties between people matter too.

Edited by Kelly Yu
Sub-edited by Reus Lok

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