Focusing on issues affecting civil society, we'll hear from representatives of NGOs, associations, statutory bodies, and non-profit groups.
Good morning, thanks for having this morning. At Orbis, we have a simple belief: protecting vision isn’t just a medical issue; it’s a community responsibility. Every one of us has a part to play in helping others keep sight safe. Today, I’d like to tell you a story - the story of Hong Kong’s aging eyes, and why half of our population may soon face serious vision challenges.
When you think of Hong Kong, what comes to mind? Neon lights, the serene views, the dense forest of skyscrapers. We are a city that sees the world in colour and in movement. But behind that beauty, a silent crisis has been developing among our older population.
In late 2025, Orbis collaborated with the Department of Ophthalmology at HKUMed to release results from the largest community glaucoma-screening project ever done in Hong Kong. The results were a wake-up call, not just for everyone over 50, but for everyone who loves someone over 50.
As we age, our bodies begin to change - gently, and gradually. But within our eyes, something more dangerous starts to happen: the risk of vision-threatening diseases rises sharply after 50.
The three biggest culprits here in Hong Kong are: cataracts, age-related macular degeneration, and glaucoma. Cataracts are like looking through a frosted dirty window. The world turns cloudy and dim. Thankfully, surgery can restore clear sight.
Age-related macular degeneration (AMD) attacks your central vision. It’s what you use to read, drive, or recognize a loved one’s face. It may not cause total blindness, but it steals your quality of life.
And then, there’s glaucoma, the silent thief of sight. It creeps in slowly, quietly damaging the optic nerve - the delicate cable that connects the eye to the brain. There’s no pain. No early symptoms. You don’t even know it’s happening… until a quarter of your vision is already gone.
Once those nerve fibers die, they’re gone forever. We can’t bring them back. All we can do is stop more from dying, curb it from getting worse, stop one from becoming blind. For years, we suspected glaucoma was widespread in Hong Kong. But we didn’t know how widespread or common it was - until now.
Over two years, Orbis and HKUMed conducted a project we called Vision Matters. We went into public housing estates, from Southern District, Kwun Tong and Taipo etc, inviting residents aged 50 and above for free, comprehensive eye exams. More than 5,800 people across our city took part.
The results were staggering. We found optic-nerve degeneration in 11.6 percent of participants, and confirmed glaucoma in 6.9 percent of them. For context, that’s higher than previous estimates across the entire Chinese population.
So, what’s going on? Is Hong Kong somehow “sicker”? Not necessarily. In truth, the difference lies in the technology. We were only able to identify these occurrences because of the technology we used. Our study used an AI-powered tool called ROTA to identify at-risk patients. Now, a traditional scan can tell you if your optic nerve - imagine a rope - is getting thinner. But ROTA goes deeper. It shows whether the threads within that rope are beginning to fray. This means it can catch glaucoma damage far earlier, often before patients notice a single symptom.
Currently, if referred to a specialist out-patient clinic, the wait time can be as long as 117 weeks. That is over two years. For glaucoma, two years of waiting means two years of irreversible vision damage.
Here’s how AI integration changes a lot of everything. Because when a doctor spots even the smallest hint of trouble, AI can help flag high-risk patients faster, triage them sooner, push them to the front of the list and make sure they see a specialist in time.
It won’t erase the two-year waiting list overnight, but it could save sight before it’s too late.
Our AI-powered diagnostic system will soon be deployed in Hong Kong West and Kowloon East clusters. And that’s what Orbis does best: bridging innovation and humanity. Around the world, our team ensures that innovation travels faster than distance. The fight against blindness is no longer just about scalpels and predictions. It’s about data and predictions. It’s about catching the thief before it steals your sight.
Through Cybersight AI, a groundbreaking Orbis diagnostic platform, specialist-level eye screening can be “air-dropped” into even the most remote villages. Imagine this: a local nurse in a rural community takes a photo of a patient’s retina. Within seconds, the AI detects early signs of blinding diseases and alerts doctors miles away. That speed and that precision can be the difference between permanent vision loss and a lifetime of sight.
But here’s the truth: technology alone isn’t the hero.
People are. AI is just a tool - one that amplifies the reach of doctors and empowers local health workers. It filters out routine cases, so specialists can focus on the most urgent, life-changing ones.
Yet, even the smartest technology can’t succeed without trust. In Ethiopia, for example, Orbis trains local women as community eye-care workers - women their neighbours already know and trust. In Vietnam, we adapt our workflow to match local customs and patient habits, because technology must fit people, not the other way around.
And through every project, from Hong Kong’s urban neighbourhoods to the world’s most remote corners, one message shines through:
Technology guards vision; trust connects communities.
Together, they build a bridge - from innovation to impact, from city to village, from research to real lives. And that bridge is how Orbis makes sure no one, anywhere in the world, is left in the dark.
We live in a city of dazzling lights. Let's make sure we can all see them, clearly and safely, for years to come.
Good morning, and thank you for joining us. I am a counsellor from the Samaritan Befrienders Hong Kong. We will soon mark World Suicide Prevention Day on 10/9, and we wish to deliver a message.
This year, and through 2026, the global theme of the day will be “Changing the Narrative on Suicide. We believe it means moving from silence and stigma revolving around the topic of suicide to honesty and support. It also means transforming a taboo into a conversation that is safe, human, and hopeful.
Imagine when suicide is mentioned, what comes to your mind? For some, it’s fear. For others, shame. Sometimes it could be confusion of those around the suicidal person,thinking “Why didn’t I see the signs?” But often, it’s silence.
In our clinical work, we often encounter people who carry heavy stories behind seemingly calm faces. They could be students, parents, or even professionals; most of them appear “healthy” by society’s standards. But we believe health should not be a mask you wear. When it should be your relationship with your whole self, including the parts that hurt deeply. The parts that we wish to be nonexistent.
We grow up in a world that puts a score on everything, such as grades, performance, followers, and likes. We learn, often without words, that love can only be earned by getting a high score. The pressure of failing to earn love teaches us to hide. To always keep a ‘healthy’ mask on, so we could avoid burdening others. The development of social media might have strengthened this distorted lesson. And when the highlight reel becomes the standard, our pain feels like a failure.
Preventing suicide asks something braver and more compassionate of us, to admit that every one of us has a shadowed/darker side and to bring those parts into the light where support is possible. This darker side of us could contain personal moments of doubt, anxiety, loneliness, grief.
We often turn mental health into something clinical or even shameful when it should be part of everyday health. Changing the narrative means we stop pathologizing normal struggles. Making it okay to say, “I’m not sleeping well,” “My stress is too much,” or “I’d like to talk to someone.”
We also wish to stress the importance of getting care that feels humane instead of the current models that are predominantly medical. We need choices about who you see, what approach you try, and how often you go. Therapeutic settings that feel welcoming, not like you’re being “admitted” or judged. If you’ve had a discouraging experience before, know that it’s okay to try a different provider, a different style, or even start with an emotional helpline to ease in.
If you’re listening tonight and you’re struggling, we have a question for you: can you set the mask down, even a little? Not forever, just for long enough to be honest with yourself and one trusted person. How much of your own sadness, anger and other negative feelings can you allow yourself to notice without judgment?
Know that pain is a signal, not a sentence. And reaching out is a skill, not a weakness. If words are hard, try simple ones: “I’m not okay.” “Can you listen?” “I need help.” If a call feels too much, text, message, or write a note. Small openings can become lifelines as we ‘ve seen in our clinical experience.
For those who care for someone at risk, you don’t need perfect phrases. You need presence. Try these: “I’m glad you told me.” “I’m here. Let’s find help together.”
Ask directly if you’re worried about someone: “Are you thinking about suicide?” The question does not plant the idea; it opens the door to safety.
If you or someone you know is in overwhelming stress, please consider calling our emotional hotline at 2389 2222. If you prefer to speak in English, call our English hotline 2389 2223, which is open from 6:30 pm to 10:00 pm on weekdays. If you need to talk, reach out, as you matter, and your story is still being written.
Before we close, we’re sharing the song “The End of the World.” By Skeeter Davis. Its timbre holds that quiet desperation many of us know. We wish to deliver the message that it’s okay to hear that desperation, both your own and of others’, and to meet it gently, like a night breeze.
As the lyrics go, “Why does the sun go on shining? … Don’t they know it’s the end of the world?” And, “I wake up in the morning, and I wonder why everything’s the same as it was.” That feeling of incompatibility between the outer world and personal inner storm is real. Let the song sit beside you, not as an ending, but as permission to feel, and to reach for support.
If those feelings feel heavy tonight, please reach out to someone you trust or a local hotline.
Thank you for listening. Take care of yourselves, and if you could, take care of one another.
