分类： society

In a significant turn of events that has captured national attention in India, widespread public celebration has broken out among demonstrators following the announcement that the country’s education minister has resigned from their post. The demonstration, which was organized and led by the youth-focused activist group the Cockroach Janta Party (CJP), had drawn growing public momentum in recent weeks, and the minister’s departure marked a major victory for the movement. Within hours of the official confirmation of the resignation, CJP leadership announced that the group would be ending its protest, fulfilling one of the core demands that had anchored their demonstration. Footage shared across social media and news outlets shows crowds of demonstrators cheering, waving placards, and marking the moment as a win for grassroots youth advocacy in the country. The outcome of the protest highlights the growing influence of youth-led political organizing in India, where young voters and activists have increasingly pushed for systemic changes across key public sectors including education. While the resignation has resolved the immediate trigger for the demonstration, CJP leaders have hinted that the group will continue pushing for broader reforms to India’s education system in the coming months. The event has sparked widespread discussion across Indian political circles about the power of grassroots public pressure to shape government leadership and policy priorities.

At Ichikawa City Zoological and Botanical Garden, located east of Tokyo, a once-orphaned baby macaque that captured global attention for his endearing attachment to an orangutan stuffed toy is celebrating a major milestone: his first birthday. One year to the day after he was abandoned by his exhausted mother shortly after birth, Punch is marking the occasion with a flood of warm birthday wishes from fans across the world — a far cry from his lonely early days when the plush toy was his only constant companion.

When Punch was first rejected by his mother, zoo caregivers stepped in to raise him by hand. To help the newborn macaque build the natural gripping skill that all infant macaques rely on to cling to their mothers and survive, staff gave him the soft orangutan plushie as a substitute. For months, the tiny baby depended on both the toy and the round-the-clock care of his two dedicated keepers, who worked tirelessly to nurture him through the unusually hot summer of his birth.

Six months of specialized care later, in mid-January, Punch made his big transition: zookeepers introduced him to the zoo’s main macaque enclosure, where he would join a troop of roughly 50 other monkeys. The adjustment was not easy. When older members of the group chased the tiny newcomer away, Punch would retreat back to his trusted plush toy, clinging to it for comfort. In February, the zoo shared photos of Punch hugging his toy on social media, and the images immediately went viral. The hashtag #HangInTherePunch quickly spread across platforms, turning the little monkey into a global sensation.

Today, Punch is unrecognizable from the tiny orphan that once depended on a stuffed toy. He has fully integrated into the macaque troop, playing and socializing with the other monkeys so seamlessly that he blends right in with the group. But his fame has not faded — he still draws massive crowds of admirers to the zoo, and for his first birthday, the facility has hosted a special indoor exhibit celebrating his first year of life. The exhibit’s walls are lined with roughly 2,500 birthday cards sent by fans from Japan and across the globe, alongside a video timeline chronicling Punch’s journey from a vulnerable newborn to a thriving young macaque.

Zoo director Takashi Yasunaga reflected on the past year, noting that the extreme heat of the summer when Punch was born remains a vivid memory for staff, who all pulled together to support the baby monkey and his two primary keepers. He added that after the viral social media posts, the zoo saw a surge of tens of thousands of new visitors, half of whom traveled from overseas to catch a glimpse of Punch.

For many fans, Punch’s story resonated far beyond his cuteness. His quiet struggle to win acceptance from the troop and reliance on his comfort toy struck a chord with people facing their own challenges. Kumi Ishizawa, a resident of Kobe who visited the birthday exhibit, said she first found Punch on social media earlier this year while she was battling an illness. At the time, recovering enough to travel to see Punch in person became her personal goal. Now fully recovered, she made the trip after a business trip, saying “I kept on telling myself that I’m going to get well and come visit to see Punch… And here I am, I made it. I’m very happy I could finally see him in person.”

Yeye Lights, a long-time Ichikawa resident who had never visited the zoo before becoming a Punch fan, now holds an annual pass. She first learned about the monkey from her daughter living in the Philippines, and joined other local fans to celebrate Punch’s birthday with a custom cake. Using the affectionate Japanese honorific “-kun” for young boys, she thanked the zookeepers for their gentle care of the little celebrity macaque.

This report was compiled from contributions by Yamaguchi, who reported from Tokyo.

Six years ago, 27-year-old Jang Deok-jun collapsed unconscious in his bathtub after working more than a year of overnight warehouse shifts for Coupang, South Korea’s largest online retail platform. He was pronounced dead of a heart attack shortly after arriving at the hospital, and a subsequent investigation by South Korea’s state-run workers’ compensation insurer Comwel officially ruled his death a work-related fatality caused by chronic overwork.

Jang’s death was not an isolated incident. Between 2000 and May 2026, Comwel has attributed 46 work-related deaths of warehouse and delivery workers to stroke or heart disease, conditions widely linked to excessive overwork. Today, his mother Park Mi-suk has spent six years carrying on a relentless advocacy campaign to ban overnight deliveries, the working practice she blames for robbing her of her son.

South Korea’s delivery sector has exploded into a massive industry built on the promise of unrivaled speed and convenience. In the country’s hyper-connected digital economy, customers who place orders before midnight are guaranteed delivery by 7 a.m. the next day – a service that relies entirely on an sprawling network of overnight warehouse staff and delivery drivers. Coupang, founded by a Korean-American entrepreneur, has dominated this market since expanding its overnight fresh produce delivery in 2015, now employing nearly 100,000 workers across its nationwide logistics network.

But this industry-defining convenience has come at a steep hidden cost to frontline workers, public health experts and labor advocates warn. The UN International Agency for Research on Cancer classifies overnight work as a probable human carcinogen, and research from South Korea’s Catholic University of Korea professor of occupational medicine Kang Mo-yeon adds that mounting evidence also links irregular night shifts to elevated risks of cardiovascular disease, diabetes, and chronic mental illness.

Unlike the UK, which caps overnight delivery driving at 10 hours per 24-hour period, South Korea imposes no legal limits on overnight working hours, creating a regulatory gap that has allowed extreme working conditions to become normalized. The debate over overnight delivery also reveals deep divides among workers themselves: while the national delivery workers’ union has called for a full ban on overnight deliveries since 2025, many drivers opt for night shifts voluntarily, drawn by higher pay and the flexibility to care for children or ill family members during the day.

One subcontracted Coupang driver, who spoke to the BBC on condition of anonymity, explained that he earns roughly 7 million won ($4,600) per month – nearly double South Korea’s national average income – working 10-hour overnight shifts five to six days a week. “I know this is destroying my body long-term, but the pay makes it worth it,” he said. “Critics who call for banning overnight deliveries aren’t listening to the choices we’ve made to support our families.” Still, he acknowledged the constant pressure: drivers are paid per package, and failure to complete all deliveries by the 7 a.m. deadline can result in losing their assigned delivery route to a competitor, leaving no time for scheduled breaks. His wife, he added, still worries he will fall asleep at the wheel during long shifts.

Park argues that as demand for faster deliveries grows, the sacrifice of these frontline workers has been rendered invisible to the consumers who benefit from their labor. In Jang’s case, she says, holding the company accountable was an uphill battle: South Korean law places the burden of proving overwork on grieving families, and Coupang was only required to share Jang’s work records and CCTV footage with Comwel, not with Park. It took months of lobbying lawmakers and government agencies for her to obtain the documents that confirmed Jang’s working hours met the legal threshold for overwork-related death: his shift count met the standard of an average 60-hour workweek over 12 weeks, with overnight hours weighted 30% more heavily under Comwel rules.

The controversy deepened in 2025, when local media published leaked chat logs allegedly between Coupang’s chairman Bom Kim and a former chief privacy officer, showing Kim ordering staff to remove references to Jang “working hard” from internal reports. Coupang has dismissed the claim as groundless, alleging the leak came from a disgruntled former employee, but labor unions filed a criminal complaint alleging evidence tampering, and South Korean police launched a formal investigation into the company in December 2025. Coupang maintains it has fully cooperated with all investigations and submitted all requested documentation to regulators.

Jang’s case was followed by another high-profile death that renewed public anger: 34-year-old Oh Seung-yong, a driver for a Coupang-contracted logistics firm, died after crashing his truck into a pole during an overnight delivery run. Comwel also ruled Oh’s death work-related. His sister told parliament that Oh had worked six days a week, clocking more than 11 hours per shift almost entirely overnight – and even continued working for four hours after his father’s sudden death before traveling to the hospital to be with his family. Coupang says it enforces a 52-hour weekly cap for all employees, gives subcontracted drivers a full weekend off every two weeks, provides free health screenings for all direct and contracted staff, and claims it holds the best safety record in the global logistics industry with no recorded industrial accident deaths. Unions argue that safety rules are rarely enforced by third-party subcontractors.

In December 2025, Coupang CEO Harold Rogers was summoned to South Korea’s national parliament to answer questions about the deaths of Jang and Oh, as well as the country’s largest ever data breach that exposed the personal information of 37.5 million Coupang users, resulting in a record $410 million fine against the company. During the televised hearing, Park publicly demanded Chairman Bom Kim be held criminally liable for her son’s death, while Oh’s sister pressed Rogers for a formal apology. Rogers offered “deepest condolences” and said he was sorry for the families’ loss, but remained silent when pressed for further comment.

The controversy has also put pressure on South Korean President Lee Jae Myung, who made reducing workplace injuries and deaths a top campaign priority, capitalizing on his own experience of a disabling factory injury earlier in life. South Korea has long struggled with one of the highest workplace fatality rates among developed nations, and the government has already passed major labor reforms: capping overall weekly work hours at 52, and introducing legislation that allows for jail time for executives found negligent in workplace death cases. Ironically, the governing party recently proposed new legislation to relax overnight delivery restrictions for smaller retailers to weaken Coupang’s market monopoly, a move that has angered unions and activists, including Park, who argue the core problem is unregulated overwork, not just Coupang’s market dominance.

Six years after her son’s death, Park’s advocacy has upended her own life. She was forced to close her small furniture-making business after spending years navigating legal battles for compensation and accountability, and moved from her longtime home to a small rental apartment in Daegu. She still keeps all of Jang’s belongings, including his collection of action figures, stored in a box in her home – not ready to let go, and not ready to end her fight.

Jang once compared his job to a seesaw: if he stepped down, his overworked colleagues would be left struggling to cover his load. Today, Park reframes that analogy for South Korea’s delivery industry: Jang and thousands of workers like him hold down one end of the seesaw, so consumers can enjoy the convenience of fast, early-morning deliveries on the other. “I hope we never become a society that closes our eyes to other people’s sacrifice just for a little bit of convenience,” she says.

Thousands of residents in India’s capital New Delhi have filled public thoroughfares in a widespread demonstration that has come to be known as the ‘cockroach protests’, with demonstrators uniting around a single core demand: sweeping, long-overdue changes to the country’s education system. Viral video footage shared widely across social media platforms has captured the moment law enforcement officers responded to the unrest by discharging pellet guns into the crowd, a escalation of force that has amplified public anger and drawn sharp scrutiny from rights observers. The unusual ‘cockroach’ moniker for the protests has its roots in demonstrators’ framing of themselves as marginalized groups that have been ignored and dismissed by authorities for years, much like unwanted pests that are pushed aside rather than addressed. While the immediate trigger for the mass mobilization varies across different segments of protesters, the overarching grievance centers on systemic flaws in India’s education sector, including underfunding, inequitable access to quality learning, outdated curriculum structures, and persistent job gaps for graduating students. As footage of the pellet gun use continues to circulate online, the demonstration has grown in size, with solidarity protests popping up in other major Indian cities, and calls growing louder for central and state education officials to open formal negotiations with protest leaders to address the community’s demands.