WRITING
A selection of articles....

Dec. 22, 2023
A Sky News visual investigation shows a building in Deir al Balah was hit one day after civilians were told they could flee to the city. Israel says it struck military targets in the area that day. The UN told Sky News that such strikes had "no rationale".
Dec. 8, 2023
Since the start of the war on 7 October, 74 health facilities have been destroyed or damaged and 95 health workers have been killed, according to Sky News' analysis of data.


November, 2023
Using military footage, satellite imagery and open-source intelligence, Sky News created a 3D model of the tunnels under the hospital to try to answer a key question: What lies beneath al Shifa Hospital?
March 3, 2023
I arrived a few minutes late to the brightly-lit North London community center, excited to begin my first life drawing class since my student days. There were eight others already seated at tables arranged in a semi-circle around the model. Our teacher, a short man with a friendly face, mouthed “hello,” gesturing for me to pick a seat. I plopped down next to an elderly bearded man in a beanie and gray windbreaker, and was instructed to start sketching the model, a scrawny older man holding a 15-minute pose. I cringed as I knocked a few pencils off the table onto the floor, disrupting the silent concentration of students nearby. I picked them up, and set to work. Moments later, straining my peripheral vision like a kid cheating on a test, I caught a glimpse of my neighbor’s drawings. Perfectly proportioned, Renaissance-like sketches spread out on the page before him. He must be a regular, I thought, refocusing on my own clumsy images. The heel of my palm was already leaving a smudgy charcoal mess on the creamy paper. Before I knew it, the model had shifted into another pose. Reluctantly, I abandoned my drawing and began another on a fresh page. Then two more poses, before a short break. The model was now walking around in a silk gown, commenting on people’s sketches, snapping the odd photo with his phone. As others stood up to make themselves tea in the kitchen, I plucked up the courage to introduce myself to my neighbor. “Arthur,” he said. His quiet voice, muffled through a wiry beard, was hard to make out against the chatter. I could tell Arthur was shy. I asked if I could make him some tea, as I was on my way to get my own. He beamed and nodded. When I returned with our two steaming cups, he told me he’d been coming here for years, and then our teacher signaled the end of the break. Heads down, heads up, eyes squinting. Graphite swishing across paper and chairs squeaking as bodies shifted. Everyone lost in the translation of a live figure onto a plane of flat paper. That was the general rhythm of class. But I was glad that I’d made a friend. I went back two weeks later to find Arthur in the same spot, with an empty seat to his right. During the break, he asked me to make him some tea. Slightly conscious of becoming the tea lady, I agreed, happy to cement our new routine. He told me he’d been feeling down lately, and that my gesture last time had helped pick him back up. Arthur was 83, I learned. He wasn’t a professional artist (“what does professional even mean?” he asked) but he’d been drawing and painting since young adulthood, having moved from Liverpool to London at 30 to pursue art. He told me about a woman he’d approached at the National Gallery a while back, whom he’d noticed struggling to sketch a Caravaggio painting. “See the figure as different connecting geometric shapes, not as a human,” he told her. “Don’t fixate on the details.” His advice was so helpful that she asked if she could pay him, he said, laughing. I admitted I was having a tough time with my own drawings, as I fancied he already knew. I barely knew him, but Arthur fascinated me and I wanted to get to know him better. I had a sudden urge to make a short film about him. Before the end of class, I asked him if we could meet for coffee. Surprised and seemingly amused by the offer, he agreed. I found him the next morning, waiting for me at the cafe as we’d arranged, wearing his beanie and gray jacket. He’d trained as a hairdresser in Liverpool, he told me, following in his mother’s footsteps, before abandoning the profession and moving to London. He’d always done odd jobs, but his passions were his art and his family. He and his wife had lived in the same apartment for five decades, and together they had eight children and several grandkids. “A forest without old trees is no good. A forest without young trees is no good either,” Arthur said, describing our spontaneous friendship. In our budding forest, my curiosity about the world was being exchanged for his deep knowledge of it. On his long walks on Hampstead Heath, Arthur sometimes went down to the ponds to pick reeds that he’d later turn into quills for watercolor paintings, or sit and meditate on a bench. When we got chatting about the film I planned to make, I could see the idea made him self-conscious, but when I told him it would just be us chatting and spending time together, he relaxed. I put my digital camera on the table between us. He examined the buttons and was surprised by the weight of the machine. He let me take a few pictures of him as he shifted in his seat, not knowing where to look. We met again the next week at the same cafe. As we were both about to head on respective trips—he to Wales, and me to France—we agreed that the film would have to wait. As I walked him to the bus stop after settling the bill, he threw an arm around me and said that it felt like I was his granddaughter. A few weeks later, I found myself back at life drawing class on a cold, drizzly evening, but Arthur wasn’t there; he must still be away. The teacher made an announcement during the break as I was making tea, just for myself. “I wanted to let you all know that Arthur, the man who usually sits right there, has passed away.” Arthur had had a stroke a week earlier, and a fall. The teacher shared details about the memorial service. “I know some of you had gotten quite close to him,” he added, glancing at me. I was almost confused by the intensity of my sudden grief. Why was I so saddened by the death of an 80-something year old? I’d only just met him. But my complicated feelings—grief over the ending of a new friendship, anger that I hadn’t made more progress on the film, and sadness for his family—were eventually dispelled by gratitude that I’d gotten to know Arthur at all. When we’d met that first time in the cafe, Arthur suggested that I write my thoughts down before class, to set an intention and calm the mind; advice that could be applied to everything, not just sketching. As he showed me his own worn-out notebook, which had been resting on the table between us, I caught sight of the words “The Wanderings of Arthur” scrawled in his messy handwriting. I still think about that.

Dec. 27, 2018
Klyda Flanders held a stuffed toy monkey to her chest with one hand as she lay on a cot in an evacuation shelter in Gridley, near the town of Paradise. Her other hand was held by a Red Cross volunteer, Michelle Maki, who knelt by Flanders’ bed.
Feb. 24, 2018
What better feeling than having a hot cup of coffee on a winter morning? The familiar, dark-chocolatey aroma fills your nose as your lips meet the rounded, paper edge. This simple pleasure brings about one of the recycling industry’s biggest challenges. Contrary to popular belief, paper coffee cups are not just made of paper. The industry standard single-use cup is lined with a thin layer of polyethylene. This common plastic makes it possible for a paper cup to hold liquid and withstand high temperatures. You can find polyethylene in other common plastic items, like or detergent bottles. In those products, it comes in the form of High Density Polyethylene, which is typically easier to recycle than the thin interior lining on paper coffee cups. While it’s technically possible, none of the paper cups sold in New York every day are recycled, according to Muneer Ahmad, the general manager of Pratt Industries Paper Mill. Ahmad has worked at the Staten Island-based recycling facility for two decades. “Whatever goes into our pulper with paper cups comes out of the pulper as reject,” said Ahmad. “They’re not as environmentally friendly as you would think.” Every year in the U.S., coffee shops and fast food restaurants distribute between 52 and 58 billion disposable paper coffee cups, according to a report by Laura Fisher at Tufts University. This amounts to approximately 182 paper cups per person annually. Based on Fisher’s calculations, the 1.6 million people living in Manhattan likely throw away nearly 800,000 single-use cups every day. The numbers are hard to exact, however, as it’s difficult for recycling facilities and garbage collectors to count each cup that ends up in the garbage. “With plastic bindings, it’s a lot more difficult for the paper to break down,” said Sam Silver, education and outreach coordinator at the Sims recycling facility in Sunset Park, Brooklyn. The recycling that you put out on your curbside is collected and taken to Sims. They only recycle one third of this waste, and the rest is taken on barges and in trucks to Pratt Industries. The Pratt paper mill receives and processes about 450,000 tons of paper recycling a year (about 1,200 to 1,400 tons a day), according to Ahmad. They produce approximately 380,000 tons of paper using that recycling, but about 65 to 70,000 goes into the reject pile, where all material that can’t get recycled into paper ends up as waste. This includes disposable paper cups. The Department of Sanitation states on its website that paper cups are accepted under what can be recycled as “cardboard.” But according to Ahmad, only a small percentage of the paper in a paper cup is getting recycled. “90 or 85 percent of that one cup gets rejected,” he said. Also, the waste or “reject stream” is made up of far more than just paper cups. If you go to Pratt Industries in Staten Island and observe the large piles of waste on the property, below the seagulls scavenging for scraps of leftover food, you might see plastic garbage bags, food packaging, baby diapers, and a DVD machine. Unrecyclable materials that people mix in with their paper waste. When trash arrives at Pratt, it is unloaded from barges and trucks. Everything then goes through the sorting and pulping process. All of the material that can’t be pulped and later recycled into paper paper is to another Pratt mill in Georgia. There, the waste is incinerated and used as fuel to run that facility. Even though it's rare that paper cups get recycled, it’s not impossible, according to Lynn Dyer, president of Foodservice Packaging Institute, a trade association. “Every facility is going to be different,” she said. “Depending on the temperature they use [during corrugation], depending on the equipment they have, some will be able to process coffee cups and some will not.” She says it’s very hard to understand numbers behind paper cup recycling, as many do not get counted once in the recycling system. The Foodservice Packaging Institute represents roughly 90 percent of the total foodservice packaging industry. Eight of the largest paper cup manufacturers in North America are members of the Foodservice Packaging Institute, according to Dyer. Some manufacturers, like Dart or Genpak, are keen to place a recycling label on their products to portray themselves as more sustainable, said Dyer, but it is hard to meet the Federal Trade Commission’s “Green Guide” criteria. “They are very specific when it comes to how you can label a product,” said Dyer. If something is to be labeled recyclable, at least 60 percent of the U.S. population must be aware that they can recycle that product. Right now, due to a lack of awareness about the recyclability of paper cups, “we are nowhere near that number. Publicly we’ll say [awareness is] lower than 20 percent,” she said. In Dyer’s opinion, the problem lies within a lack of education. In Sarah Currie-Halpern’s opinion, when it comes to New York City, the number of people who care about recycling is outweighed by the people who don’t. “New York is capitalistic. Unless you can provide a model that’s profitable, then people won’t be interested,” she said. Currie-Halpern is the Founder of Think Zero, a consulting group that helps businesses identify their waste production. After conducting a waste audit for one of their clients, a commercial 30 to 40-story skyscraper located in Manhattan’s Financial District, the group found that 2,542 coffee cups were used in one day during May 2017. Currie-Halpern says this is relatively standard for a building of that size. Across the pond, in England, there have been efforts to curb the waste of single-use paper cups. The Environmental Audit Committee, a group within the House of Commons, produced a report in Jan. 2018, outlining the reasons why coffee cups are unsustainable. The committee’s role is to examine how government department’s policies will affect sustainability and the environment, and through this study they are proposing that the U.K. government impose a tax on the disposable paper cups. The “latte levy,” as it’s being called, would introduce a 25-pence charge (equivalent to U.S. 35-cents) on all coffee cups to encourage the use of reusable products. “Most coffee shops have a discount when you bring your own cup,” said Wouter Poortinga, professor of environmental psychology at Cardiff University. Poortinga, in collaboration with Bewley’s Tea & Coffee company, conducted a study in March 2017 that looked at the effects of providing reusable alternatives, and imposing financial incentives to discourage the use of coffee cups. Previously, Poortinga conducted a study on single-use plastic bags, and the results were astounding. The report found that a 5-pence charge on a disposable bag reduced the use of them by 80 to 90 percent, leading to an 85 percent reduction in single-use plastic. “The behavior changed overnight,” said Poortinga. Results from the study on coffee cups were less promising. Putting an additional charge on a cup of coffee showed the researchers that usage was reduced by only 2.5 to 17.5 percent. “It’s far more difficult to adapt to a coffee cup charge,” said Poortinga. He thinks people feel too inconvenienced carrying around a reusable cup. The U.K. population of about 65 million people throws away 2.5 billion coffee cups every year. Only one out of every 400 cups are being recycled, according to the Environmental Audit Committee’s report, and the rest goes into landfill. According to Poortinga, there are a few sites where recycling of paper cups is technically possible, but effectively it doesn’t happen. While a “latte levy” could work effectively to curb the waste issue, Poortinga suspects that the government may not listen to the Enviornmental Audit Committee. “They don’t seem too enthusiastic about the idea,” he said. “Whether the charge on coffee cups would be the best is not in their interest.” In other words, there are bigger fish to fry. Coffee cups make up only one percent of household waste. Additionally, some cafes are reluctant to introduce the charge because they are afraid it will affect sales. According to multiple reports by the BBC, The Independent, and The Guardian, some coffee shops in the U.K. are moving towards using biodegradable coffee cups. However, while they are a more sustainable alternative to the plastic-lined cups, specialist facilities are required to dispose of them correctly. Right now, as is the case in New York, the U.K. doesn’t have a sufficient waste management structure to do that. However, there are increasingly more people trying to come up with inventive ways to combat waste. Loliware, a New York-based startup, produces biodegradable cups and straws that the founders describe as “hyper-compostable” and marine friendly. The cups are made of seaweed, organic sweeteners and fruit and vegetable extract. Not only are the products compostable, but their line of cups can be eaten once you’re done with your drink. While the company’s goal is to find a sustainable solution to single-use plastic products, they emphasize that there is no simple solution to the problem. “From an economic perspective, businesses are not going to choose sustainable solutions until they’re more convenient or less costly,” said Leah Anne Tucker, Loliware’s co-founder. Reducing use of plastic has proven to be more of a priority for some governments. Come July 2018, Seattle will be banning plastic straws entirely. In Taiwan, the government just announced a ban on single-use plastic straws, plastic bags and disposable utensils entirely by 2030. “Government regulations are the best way for sustainable solutions to be implemented,” said Tucker. “It forces business to adopt those initiatives.”

Jan. 5, 2018
Large crowds jeering at the opposition and yelling profanities during a soccer game is a common scene around the world. But in Hong Kong, when the booing is directed towards the Chinese national anthem, also technically Hong Kong’s anthem, there may be more serious implications. At the beginning of Nov. 2017, China inserted new legislation into Hong Kong’s Basic Law, the supposed semi-autonomous region’s mini-constitution. The new law states that anyone who disrespects China’s national anthem may be sentenced to up to 15 days in prison. The legislation was passed in China last month with sanctions of up to three years. The decision to implement this law came in the wake of several instances of soccer fans chanting “We are Hong Kong” and booing as China’s anthem played in a local stadium as Hong Kong players walked out onto the field. But the proposed legislation has yet to take effect, and is pending adoption before the Hong Kong legislature enforces its own version of the law. “The legislators in Hong Kong still have the chance to debate the details of what is considered lawful or unlawful behavior,” said Kelvin Cheung, an assistant professor at the department of Asian and policy studies at The Education University of Hong Kong. It’s perceived to be another step that China is taking to establish more influence over Hong Kong, according to Andrew Nathan, a professor of politics with a specialization in Chinese foreign policy and human rights at Columbia University. “It also reflects an anxiety of losing control of the younger generation on the part of the Chinese regime,” he said. This sense of paranoia, according to Nathan, comes from the Chinese Communist Party worrying that there could be disaster if they don’t crack down at the slightest hints of political dissent. The small island of Hong Kong, at the most southern tip of Mainland China, was ceded to the government of Great Britain in 1842. Under British colonial rule, the rocky, barren island became a dynamic trading hub and the best example of a thriving and stable economy in South East Asia. When the Bamboo Curtain, which kept china culturally and economically isolated from the rest of the world was lifted, China insisted on renegotiating with Britain. That happened in 1984, under Margaret Thatcher’s government, who felt they had no other option but to hand Hong Kong back to China in 1997. Thus, an arrangement known as “One Country, Two Systems,” was established, to expire in 2047. Since the handover, Hong Kong has maintained a separate governmental and legislative system from China after nearly 150 years of colonial rule over the island. The framework allowed Hong Kong to have a large degree of autonomy for 50 years, until 2047, when when it is fully integrated as part of the mainland. Despite that Hong Kong is still 30 years away from its destined fate of reuniting with China, the superpower is already making legal and political efforts to assert greater control. “The Chinese government is probably capable of doing just about anything that is internationally legally acceptable,” said David Zweig, director of the Center on China’s Transnational Relations at Hong Kong University of Science and Technology. Carrie Lam, Chief Executive and primary representative of the Government of Hong, “is just carrying out what Beijing wants in a subtler way than her successor, C.Y. Leung,” he said. Over the past few years, the terms of Hong Kong’s autonomy have become less clear, and there is increasing uncertainty over the city’s future as a functioning democracy. “The Hong Kong government’s authorities are being weakened, and the institutions that were defending One Country Two Systems have been eroding over time,” said Edmund Chung, assistant professor of International Affairs and Civil Society at Hong Kong Baptist University. “All the mobilization structures have been destroyed or disintegrated,” he said. According to Chung, it is unlikely that there will be any backlash once the national anthem law is implemented. It’s become increasingly difficult for people in Hong Kong to organize demonstrations because the city’s police force has the legal discretion to prohibit protests. The threat to Hong Kong’s partial democracy has previously been met with serious opposition. In the last 20 years, there have been various waves of local resistance against perceived encroachment by Beijing over the city’s affairs. In 2002, for example, the Hong Kong government tried to implement a statute known as Article 23, proposing new national security rules that would limit freedom of expression. Article 23 stipulates that any act of subversion or sedition against China’s government is punishable. The proposed bill sparked heated debate in the city, resulting in massive protests on July 1, 2003, with nearly 500,000 people coming out onto Hong Kong’s streets. In response to the demonstrations, the government retracted the proposal. Then, three years ago, in 2014, thousands of Hong Kongers peacefully protested on the city’s streets for almost two and a half months. During the demonstrations, commonly known as the Umbrella Revolution, umbrellas were used as the symbol of defiance, protecting the protesters from the hot sun, monsoon rains, and most notably the pepper spray used by police to disperse the crowds. The protests were an effort to push back against the threat to the city’s democratic system and the protesters’ wish to attain the right to universal suffrage in Hong Kong. The Hong Kong government was proposing to strike a deal with China, in which Beijing would select political candidates for Hong Kong people to vote on. Because of the opposition, the deal was not made, and currently, nominations of the Chief Executive are in the hands of 1,200 members in the pro-Beijing committee. In other words, China has much greater control over who wins in elections. Since the protests, some pro-democracy legislators have been blocked from running for office. “Right now, the whole city is recovering from the disappointment following the outcome of the Umbrella Movement, as they couldn’t get the government to relaunch the democratic transition,” said Joshua Lee, a history professor from Hong Kong who teaches at Pace University in New York. “The national anthem law just shows that the social space for expressing political discontent is becoming seriously limited. For any political organizer, if they want to make any kind of statement, they need to be extremely creative,” he said. “The national anthem law is a symbol to scare the people, which on the surface looks like China is politically insecure, but underneath, it’s really just morale beating,” said Yun-Kwan Yiu, a music professor and recent graduate of the Manhattan School of Music, is originally from Hong Kong. “We’re weak right now, and Beijing is all too willing to exploit all of it,” he said.
Dec. 12, 2017
At the beginning of this year, an anonymous source from Appleby, a large law firm based in Bermuda, leaked 13.4 million documents to Süddeutsche Zeitung. The daily German newspaper received emails, PDFs, word documents, passport photocopies, and data files, which exposed the financial secrets of some of the world’s richest people, who have sheltered much of their wealth in offshore tax havens.


Aug. 28, 2020
Filipino food is finally making its mark in New York, even though Filipino immigrants have been in the country for over a century. Buoyed by recent attention from media, and as more restaurants introduce fresh flavors to the American palate, Filipino chefs are changing the perception of the cuisine. Celebrity chefs have been watching this trend from the start. Five years ago, Andrew Zimmern predicted that Filipino food was “the next big thing.” This past June, Anthony Bourdain called Filipino food “ascendant” and “underrated,” and said that the popular street food Sisig (stir-fried pork) will “win the hearts and minds of the world.” Purple yam ice-cream at Soft Swerve in Chinatown (Photo by: softswervenyc on Instagram) An increasingly popular feature of Filipino cuisine is purple yam, or ‘ube’. It’s often used to make ice cream, and its vibrant purple color has caught Instagram’s attention. Restaurants like Soft Swerve in Chinatown, and Ube Kitchen in Brooklyn are capitalizing on the trend. In 2008, long before this social media ube craze, husband and wife Romy Dorotan and Amy Besa opened Purple Yam in Ditmas Park, Brooklyn. Romy and Amy came from the Phillipines in the 1970s for graduate school before breaking into the restaurant industry. Purple Yam’s menu boasts authentic yet inventive Filipino dishes. A few of their most popular are Chicken Adobo (chicken braised in vinegar, garlic and oil), Bacalau with La-Ing (salted cod served with taro leaves and coconut milk) and of course, home-made purple yam ice-cream. Romy, Purple Yam’s head chef, is passionate about staying true to traditional Filipino cooking, but likes to get creative. “What I do is make [the food] as close to what I grew up with or what I know Filipino food is, and then try my best, and … combine [typical ingredients] with something different. How do you marry things that are here and there?” An example of Romy’s integrative cooking are his famous Nori Tacos. These are baked seaweed shells, filled with rice, chicken and fresh vegetables. The Mexican and Korean influences are evident, but he doesn’t stray too far from the quintessential Filipino flavors. Filipino food is a confluence of many cultures. It has distinct Spanish influences from the country’s colonial past, and has adopted parts of Chinese, Japanese and other Southeast Asian cuisines. Accentuated by vinegar, elevated by spice and grounded by sweetness, the multicultural nature of Filipino food is what makes the cuisine unique. So, why has this trend only hit the mainstream now? Nicole Ponseca, chef and owner of Filipino restaurants Maharlika and Jeepney in Manhattan, gives three possible reasons why. “A lack of support for Filipinos becoming entrepreneurs, the restaurant industry being extremely risky, and… hiya, which means shame,” said Nicole. Homemade fermented vinegar at Purple Yam Some Filipino-Americans (or Fil-Ams, as people in the community refer to themselves as) in the food business were uncertain about how eccentric Filipino dishes would be perceived in the US. “I think Filipinos in America maybe underrated their own food,” said Bourdain in his CNN interview. When food becomes mainstream in America, there is a tendency for restaurants to over-sweeten dishes, according to Romy, the chef at Purple Yam. “Sometimes, restaurants avoid [traditional] dishes because to them, me included, you are scared to put up dishes that are sour, or not sweet, because you might think that your customers will not like it. And that’s one danger.” But the American palate has matured over the last few years, and there’s “no need to make it bland and boring…” said Romy. He and his wife Amy plan to conduct a Filipino food tour this fall. They’ll travel to five different cities in the US, inspiring authentic cooking in an effort to unify the country’s Fil-Am community.