标签： Asia

China’s top legislative body is reviewing a damning annual audit that reveals widespread mismanagement, fraud, and embezzlement of billions of yuan in public welfare funds, prompting government authorities to launch targeted corrective actions to safeguard public livelihoods.

Presented by Auditor-General Hou Kai to the Standing Committee of the National People’s Congress on Tuesday, the 2025 fiscal audit evaluated the central government’s budget implementation and nationwide fiscal governance. Beyond its broad assessment of public spending, the report flagged severe irregularities across multiple high-priority social sectors, including childcare, compulsory education, employment support, public healthcare, elderly care services, affordable housing, and disability assistance. The most substantial problems were uncovered in two core social safety net programs: work-related injury insurance and maternity support funds.

Auditors traced nearly 4.87 billion yuan (equivalent to approximately $715.8 million) in problematic funds within the injury insurance system. The investigation found that roughly 3.97 million workers employed in high-risk industries either had no injury coverage at all or were enrolled under illegally reduced coverage standards that left them underprotected. As of the end of September 2025, a cross-provincial review of construction sites found that 34,100 active projects across 24 provinces had failed to provide injury insurance for 2.26 million migrant workers, resulting in 2.53 billion yuan in unpaid mandatory insurance premiums.

In addition to systemic undercoverage, auditors uncovered deliberate fraud dating back to 2013: across 22 provinces, 580 injured workers and collaborating employers had fraudulently claimed 48.13 million yuan in compensation by submitting fabricated workplace accident reports and falsified medical treatment records.

Maternity insurance and related subsidy programs also faced widespread irregularities totaling 1.08 billion yuan, with violations directly undermining the benefit rights of more than 1 million eligible people. In one common scenario, gaps in policy enforcement and calculation errors for maternity leave entitlements left 21,000 individuals across 21 provinces unable to access a total of 103 million yuan in rightfully owed benefits. In another disturbing pattern of abuse, 496 employers in 13 provinces intercepted 30.05 million yuan in maternity benefits that were intended for 3,511 of their female workers, diverting public funds designated for employee support to corporate use.

In an official statement released Wednesday, the National Audit Office noted that these widespread irregularities have directly eroded public trust in social welfare programs and diminished the tangible benefits that citizens are supposed to receive from government social policy. The office called for expanded, consistent audit oversight across all public spending sectors that impact people’s daily lives, with a specific priority placed on strengthening oversight of grassroots-level welfare distribution.

The audit’s scope extended beyond social welfare to examine public fund allocation in agriculture, finance, and natural resource conservation projects, uncovering additional cases of misuse and mismanagement. In one high-profile environmental project, a wetland protection initiative falsely claimed to have completed all required resident relocations for the protected area. In reality, fewer than 30% of the 27,000 planned relocations had been finished, with only 7,700 people moved, while persistent garbage and sewage contamination continued to threaten the wetland ecosystem.

In another case of public fund waste, 135 agricultural technology promotion projects spread across 92 counties, funded with a total of 516 million yuan in public investment, were either diverted to non-compliant uses such as corporate exhibitions and entertainment events or left completely idle with no tangible impact on local agricultural development.

Moving forward, the National Audit Office has committed to ramping up follow-up inspections and ongoing oversight to ensure all identified irregularities are fully resolved. A full public update on the progress of rectification and corrective actions is scheduled for release before the end of 2026.

A shocking case of modern-day slavery has been uncovered in the northern Indian state of Uttar Pradesh, where law enforcement officials have rescued 12 men who were held captive and forced into unpaid bonded labor at a small disposable plate manufacturing facility. The horrific ordeal of these workers, which included months of systematic abuse, starvation, and violence, has reignited fierce national debate over India’s persistent failure to eliminate a practice outlawed half a century ago.

According to Uttar Pradesh Police, the case emerged after authorities received an anonymous tip-off last week reporting captive workers at the factory located in Muzaffarnagar district. Senior police officer Sanjai Kumar told reporters that investigators deployed an undercover decoy to confirm the allegations before launching a coordinated raid on the facility on Monday, alongside officials from the state labor department and district administration.

Investigations reveal the factory operators targeted vulnerable job seekers at crowded public hubs such as railway stations, luring them with false promises of steady work, free meals, and safe accommodation. Once the workers arrived at the site, their personal communication devices were immediately seized, their official identity documents were destroyed, and they were locked inside the factory premises to prevent escape. For months, and in some cases nearly two years, the men were forced to work around the clock without pay, surviving on just one meager meal of dry flatbread or bran bread a day, with pit bull terriers deployed to guard them against escape attempts. Any attempt to demand owed wages or request to leave was met with brutal violence: multiple rescued workers showed visible injury marks across their bodies from repeated beatings with sharp wooden sticks.

Twelve men were freed in the raid, with origins across four Indian states — Uttar Pradesh, Haryana, Bihar, and Uttarakhand — plus one worker from Nepal. One worker from Nepal, Dan Bahadur Thapa, told reporters he had been held captive for almost two full years with no contact whatsoever with his family back home. Narayan, a worker from Chhattisgarh who took the job to support his two young children and brothers, said he had missed his family desperately during his four months of captivity. Ramu, from Uttarakhand, described the workers being “kept like prisoners,” with their Aadhaar national identity cards burned to cut off any outside connection.

Kumar, the senior police official, described the conditions workers were held in as marked by “tremendous atrocity,” adding that the scale of injury on the men’s bodies was “shocking.” To date, two suspects have been taken into custody in connection with the case, while the factory’s owner remains at large as a manhunt continues. Authorities have opened a formal case under India’s Bonded Labour System (Abolition) Act, alongside other relevant statutes, and have assembled a special investigation team to fully probe the operation. Police are also examining alarming allegations that multiple workers may have died at the factory during the period of captive operation.

The news of the rescue and the graphic accounts of abuse have sparked widespread outrage across India, with intense condemnation pouring in on social media and from political leaders. Opposition leader Rahul Gandhi condemned the incident as a direct attack on human dignity, writing on social platform X that “Victims must receive justice along with rehabilitation and the perpetrators the harshest possible punishment.” Social media users have expressed shock that such systematic abuse could persist decades after bonded labor was criminalized, with many describing the incident as “inhumane” and “a stain on our collective conscience” that demands swift, exemplary justice.

As of the latest update, all 12 rescued workers have received urgent medical treatment for their injuries and are currently undergoing psychiatric counseling to help them process their traumatic ordeal. Eight of the 12 have already been reunited with their families, according to police, while authorities work to locate the remaining workers’ next of kin and coordinate with state agencies to arrange long-term rehabilitation support for all victims.

The case has once again drawn unwanted attention to the ongoing problem of bonded labor across India. Though the practice was formally abolished by federal law 50 years ago, it remains endemic in many low-wage, informal sectors of the economy, where impoverished and marginalized workers are often trapped through debt bondage, coercion, and systemic threats, with weak enforcement allowing abusers to operate with impunity in many regions.

In the bustling coastal metropolis of Karachi, Pakistan, a remarkable interfaith tradition unfolds each year during the Islamic holy month of Muharram. For Raju Rathore, a lifelong Karachi resident whose parents resettled from India’s Gujarat region following the 1947 Partition of India, his Hindu faith and deep devotion to Imam Hussein coexist seamlessly, a legacy passed down through three generations of his family.

Muharram, and particularly the 10th day known as Ashoura, is most widely recognized as a sacred period of mourning for Shiite Muslims, who mark the 7th-century martyrdom of Prophet Muhammad’s grandson Hussein at the Battle of Karbala, in what is now modern-day Iraq. Hussein’s death stands as the foundational event that split Islam into the Sunni and Shiite branches, and millions of believers across the globe commemorate the tragedy each year. Yet across South Asia, a little-known cross-cultural practice has endured for centuries: participation by Hindu communities in Muharram rituals.

For Rathore, this devotion traces back to a promise his mother made decades ago. After years of struggling to conceive, she prayed at the shrine of Masoom Shah Bukhari, vowing that if she were blessed with a child, her offspring would honor Hussein’s martyrdom by crafting tazias — intricate, temporary replicas of Hussein’s mausoleum that are carried in large public processions during Muharram. Today, at 52 years old, Rathore has carried on that vow for 45 years, handcrafting detailed tazias from paper, cardboard, glass and other materials at his own expense. His family collects materials throughout the year in preparation for Ashoura, and now his own son has stepped in to learn the craft, ensuring the tradition will outlive him. “This is our passion,” Rathore explained. “Our devotion to Imam Hussein is such that even giving our lives would feel insufficient. As long as I have the strength to continue, I will keep making them.”

Historical records confirm that cross-communal participation in Muharram has deep roots across South Asia, with groups such as the Hussaini Brahmins developing layered religious traditions that blend Hindu and Shiite Islamic practices. Justin Jones, a religious studies professor at the University of Oxford, notes that one key driving force behind this widespread participation was the political history of the region. For centuries, many ruling dynasties across South Asia were Shiite, and these ruling houses publicly sponsored Muharram processions and commemorative events, transforming what began as a sect-specific religious observance into a large, inclusive public gathering that attracted participants from all faith backgrounds.

Over generations, these observances became woven into the civic and cultural fabric of many South Asian communities. Some Hindu communities contributed as musicians in processions, while others like Rathore’s family took on the role of crafting tazias. While Jones notes that these shared interfaith traditions have become less common over the past century, as religious communities have increasingly separated their ritual practices, the custom holds strong in pockets of the region, including Karachi.

Pakistan’s 2023 national census counts nearly 3.9 million Hindu residents, making Hinduism the country’s largest religious minority. While rights groups such as Minority Rights Group have documented widespread violations of religious freedom for Pakistani Hindus, Rathore says he has never faced barriers to continuing his family’s tradition. “Yes, I am Hindu, but this is not about religion,” he said. “Many of my fellow Hindus also hold Imam Hussein in great respect.”

Rathore and other Hindu participants in Karachi gather at Shiite congregation halls during Muharram, where they join in prayers and traditional mourning rituals including chest-beating before joining the public processions. Bharat Kumar, another Karachi-based Hindu who carries on the tazia crafting tradition, echoed that interfaith respect is a core part of his community’s values. “Our religion has never taught us that because we are Hindus we should not participate in or respect others’ traditions,” Kumar said. “We celebrate our own festivals with great enthusiasm and grandeur and we approach this in the same way.”

As religious divisions have sharpened across much of South Asia in recent decades, this quiet, centuries-old practice of cross-faith solidarity and shared ritual stands as a rare example of intercommunal harmony, preserved by families like the Rathores who see their participation not as a compromise of faith, but as a sacred vow and a deeply held cultural passion.

Across the sun-faded living rooms of southern India’s Kerala, a quiet crisis is unfolding. For 70-year-old TO Dominic, every morning opens the same way: with a quick phone call to one of his two adult sons. One son built his career in neighboring Karnataka, while the other sought work opportunities in the Middle East. Both left their childhood home years ago, leaving Dominic and his 70-something wife MJ Martha to navigate daily life entirely on their own.

These daily calls bring small comfort, filled with routine checks on health and casual chatter about the weather. But when the couple faces a broken pipe, a medical appointment, or even just need an extra pair of hands to carry groceries, their sons are thousands of kilometers away, unable to step in. Once, their home echoed with the noise of growing children; today, long stretches of silence fill most days. “We rely completely on our neighbors for help,” Dominic explains. “Our children can only visit once every few years, and we have no close relatives living nearby. Every year, daily tasks get just a little bit harder.” Martha nods beside him, adding that persistent loneliness has become an inescapable part of their old age.

The Dominics’ story is far from unique. For centuries, multigenerational cohabitation was the unbroken norm across India, with adult children caring for aging parents in the family home. But decades of out-migration for work and higher education have steadily eroded this centuries-old tradition, particularly in Kerala — India’s fastest-ageing state, where demographic shifts and labor mobility have left a growing share of the elderly population living alone. To confront this rapidly growing public challenge, the Kerala state government announced last month the launch of India’s first standalone government department dedicated exclusively to senior citizen welfare.

Dr. Rathan Kelkar, the head of the newly formed department, outlines that the agency’s core strategy centers on the principle of “ageing in place” — a framework designed to help older adults remain in their own homes and local communities, rather than relocating to institutional care facilities. The department’s rolling policy agenda includes expanding affordable community and in-home care services, rolling out “social prescribing” initiatives that connect isolated seniors to regular group activities and social outlets, launching a state-certified caregiver training program to build a professionalized care workforce, and constructing new public infrastructure including elderly-focused parks, senior day-care centers, and accessible fitness facilities. A comprehensive statewide survey of the senior population is also underway to lay the groundwork for a long-term national “Silver Economy” development roadmap.

Kelkar emphasizes that ageing can no longer be sidelined as a narrow social welfare issue: “It intersects with every sector of public life — healthcare, housing, transportation, local governance, technology, employment, public safety, financial services, and community connection.”

Kerala already holds the distinction of having the highest share of elderly residents among all of India’s major states. A 2026 analysis from the Reserve Bank of India projects that by 2036, nearly one in four Kerala residents — 22.8% of the total population — will be over the age of 60, compared to a projected national average of just 14.9%. This rapid demographic shift stems from two overlapping trends: social progress and persistent out-migration. Decades of improved public healthcare have pushed life expectancy higher, while falling birth rates have slowed population growth, naturally aging the state’s population pyramid. At the same time, generations of working-age Keralites have left the state to seek higher-wage work in the Middle East, Europe, North America, and other parts of India, often leaving aging parents behind.

While remittances from these migrant workers have lifted household incomes and overall living standards across Kerala, they have also created this growing social gap: millions of older Indians now spend their final years geographically separated from their children. For migrant children living abroad, the distance brings its own emotional toll. A Keralite IT professional based in Sydney, who asked not to be named, explains: “I send money home every month without fail, but financial support is never enough. Being there in person — for a medical emergency, or just to sit with them when they’re lonely — that’s something money can never replace.” When his parents fell ill with a viral infection last year, he could only coordinate care via phone and video calls from 10,000 kilometers away, saying, “I felt completely helpless, and that feeling never really goes away.”

Kelkar notes that Kerala is not starting from zero in its response to the ageing crisis: the state already runs successful existing programs including universal old-age pensions and the widely studied Vayomithram community palliative care initiative. What was missing, he argues, was a single centralized authority to coordinate across fragmented government sectors, close service gaps, and align long-term planning. “Before this, there was no single institutional body responsible for bringing all these different departments together, identifying unmet needs, building cross-sector convergence, and planning for decades to come,” he says.

Even with this new institutional structure, Kelkar acknowledges that bricks-and-mortar infrastructure and formal services alone cannot solve the crisis of senior isolation. “Loneliness and social disconnection have become one of the defining challenges of ageing in modern Kerala,” he says. To address this gap, the department is building out statewide volunteer networks and community connection programs to reach isolated seniors. “Our vision is simple: no elderly person in Kerala should feel invisible or abandoned, no matter where their children live.”

Medical experts across India warn that the crisis Kerala is now confronting is a preview of a coming nationwide challenge. Dr. Prasun Chatterjee, who leads the geriatrics unit at Delhi’s Apollo Hospital, says the question he hears most from his older patients is, “Who will take care of me when I can no longer take care of myself?” Many of his patients live alone after losing a spouse or watching their children relocate for work, and even minor emergencies become overwhelming: “They don’t just worry about long-term care. They worry about who will drive them to the hospital if they get sick at 2 a.m.”

Dr. Chatterjee also points to a critical systemic gap across India’s healthcare system: a severe shortage of specialized geriatric care providers, meaning most older adults rely on general healthcare services that are not designed to meet their unique physical and medical needs. He argues that what India needs is a broad, cross-sector support network that includes accessible day-care centers, community gathering spaces, age-friendly primary healthcare, and structured opportunities for seniors to maintain social connections. “No single government department can solve this problem on its own,” he notes.

Even with the launch of the new department, questions remain about whether Kerala’s ambition matches its available resources. This year, the state has allocated just 100 million rupees (approximately $1.05 million) to the new department, a figure many policy analysts call largely symbolic. Kelkar pushes back on this criticism, explaining that the initial funding is earmarked for building coordination capacity, supporting innovative pilot projects, and building the population data infrastructure needed to scale long-term policy. “The government views ageing not as a short-term welfare project, but as a long-term development priority for the entire state,” he says.

Some industry experts add that policy alone is not enough to address the gap. Srinivasan Govindaraj, CEO of Athulya Seniorcare, which operates assisted living facilities across India including in Kerala, argues that India still lacks a properly regulated private senior care market. “There are dozens of small, local providers across the country, but there are no uniform national quality standards or accountability measures,” he says. For Ker ala’s growing ageing population, he says, what is needed is not just government welfare schemes, but a trusted, regulated care ecosystem that can support low- and middle-income families who cannot afford full private pay care.

For 82-year-old MSR Dev, a retired scientist who lives in Kerala with his wife, the core of the issue is simpler than policy and funding: it is about keeping older people connected to the world around them. He says Kerala can draw lessons from nations like Sweden, where robust community support systems help older adults stay active and independent well into their later years. “Communication and connection are just as essential as food and healthcare,” Dev says. “As social beings, we all need places to go and people to talk to.”

Back in their small home, Dominic and Martha have not waited for government policy to improve their circumstances. Like many other elderly couples in Kerala, they continue to rely on the generosity of their neighbors, as they have for years. What Martha wants is not a grand policy overhaul, she says: it is just having someone they can call who will actually show up when they need help. Whether Kerala’s new dedicated department can deliver that simple promise, in a state where thousands of families are separated by oceans and time zones, remains to be seen.