Listen to #Hashtag Hong Kong every Sunday morning at 8.15
Focusing on issues affecting civil society, we'll hear from representatives of NGOs, associations, statutory bodies, and non-profit groups.
(Sundays 8.15am - 8.25am)
People always ask me: “Why do you care so much about butterflies?
”Well, let me tell you a story.
Look around you. Butterflies are quietly living in our daily life.
They appear on our T‑shirts, earrings and handbags.
They fly through our poems, dramas, stories, our culture.
And when a real butterfly suddenly dances past your window, you stop, you smile… and for a moment, your pressure drops and your heart feels a little lighter. So when we protect butterflies, we are actually protecting our own happiness, and the environment that keeps us alive.
There was a quiet little valley in Tai Po.
Most people in Hong Kong had no idea about the treasure chest of butterflies –
But some people did notice… and they came not with cameras, but with nets.
Collectors and poachers from overseas snuck in, even taking butterfly eggs from the leaves.
Imagine: while most of us were still sleeping, the future of Hong Kong’s butterflies was quietly being stolen away.
We couldn’t just sit and watch, we the Environmental Association, together a group of passionate volunteers, decided to act.
In 2005, we create the Fung Yuen Butterfly Reserve in Tai Po – a safe home, a “butterfly haven” where these fragile lives could survive and thrive. Today, about 90% of Hong Kong’s 250 butterfly species have been recorded in this one small reserve.
It’s like the “Butterfly MTR Interchange Station” – almost everyone has to pass through!
One day, we had a surprise guest.
We spotted a butterfly, a tiny traveller that had flown all the way from Japan to Hong Kong. No passport, no air ticket, no luggage – just two wings and a very strong sense of direction.
That one little insect opened up a brand new research project, tracing the mysterious migration route of this “flying traveller” and reminding us that nature has no borders.
At the same time, we started to build a butterfly network in urban area. We began working with property managers, housing estates, hotels, schools – anyone, anyone who would listen – to build butterfly gardens across the city.
From Tuen Mun Gold Coast to urban estates, from hotels to campuses, we helped turn ordinary corners into little butterfly homes, serving fresh nectar, and providing butterfly maternity suite every day. Slowly, Hong Kong, Shenzhen, Macau, even places in Malaysia joined this network of butterfly gardens.
You could say we are running an international “Butterfly Airbnb” – offering safe rooms with a great garden view.
Behind the pretty wings, there is something deeper.
Butterflies need clean air, healthy plants and safe habitats.
If they can survive, it means our environment is doing better.
If they disappear, it’s a warning sign – like nature’s own alarm clock ringing in our ears. So when we plant a bush for butterflies, we are actually planting hope for ourselves, for our children, and for this city we love.
Now, where do you come in?
You don’t need a PhD in biology to help butterflies.
You can start with a flowerpot on your balcony, a small garden in your school or work place, or simply by visiting us at Tai Po Fung Yuen Butterfly Reserve and supporting ongoing conservation work. Imagine Hong Kong as a true “Butterfly City” –
where along our streets, in our estates, on our school roofs, work place and hotels, butterflies are quietly dancing in the wind, and every time one flies past, it reminds us:
This city is still alive and happy.
Nature is still here and thriving.
And we have chosen to protect it. So next time someone asks, “Why do you care about butterflies?”
You can smile and say: “Because when butterflies are happy, people are happier too”

Hello Hong Kong,
I want to start with something that isn’t easy to hear — but it’s something that needs to be said out loud.
Right now, in our society, there is a silent epidemic. It’s not one you’ll read about in the headlines every day. It doesn’t have a visible symptom or an official cure. But it’s affecting our children — our sons, our daughters, our students, our neighbours.
I’m talking about child sexual abuse.
Imagine this: one in every six children will experience it in some form before the age of eighteen. That’s more than 16%. It means in a classroom of thirty students, five could be carrying this trauma, quietly.
We often imagine abuse as something that happens “somewhere else,” to “someone else,” by “a stranger in the dark.” But the truth is far more painful: 93% of abusers are known to their victims — often trusted friends, relatives, or people in positions of power.
This is not somebody else’s problem. It’s happening here. It’s happening now.
I know this because I lived it.
My name is Taura Edgar, and I am a survivor of incest. My childhood was stolen by the person who should have protected me. It took me decades to find the courage to tell my story, because for so long, I believed the silence kept me safe. But actually, it only protected my abuser.
When I finally spoke, I realized the heartbreaking reality — I wasn’t alone. Far from it.
In Hong Kong, an estimated 96% of cases of child sexual abuse go unreported. That means for every child brave enough to speak, there are many more who remain silent — living with fear, confusion, and shame that isn’t theirs to carry.
We often say to children, “Speak up. Say no. Protect yourself.”
But how can an eight-year-old distinguish manipulative grooming from kindness? How can a ten-year-old challenge someone they love or depend on?
It’s not fair to put that weight on a child’s shoulders. It’s our responsibility - as the adults in their world — to protect them before they ever have to protect themselves.
That’s why I founded TALK Hong Kong — to build awareness with our research, to help adults learn how to prevent abuse and as a safe spaces for adults to talk about what’s often left unsaid.
And everyone, truly everyone, has a role to play. Here’s where you can start — right now.
1. Ask questions.
If you’re a parent or caregiver — ask every school, activity centre, and after-school program what safeguarding policies they have in place. Who oversees child protection? How do they train staff? A good organisation will always welcome these questions.
2. Educate yourself.
Abuse doesn’t always look the way we think it does. Learn to spot the signs. Don’t assume “it can’t happen here.” It can happen anywhere there is opportunity and silence.
3. Create safe spaces.
Children need to know they can talk about anything with you — without fear, without shame. You can start small: ask gentle questions like, “Did anything today make you feel weird?” Teach body boundaries. Make consent part of everyday conversation.
And remember — if a child tells you something that worries you, don’t panic, don’t overreact. Just listen. Stay calm. Your reaction in that moment will shape whether that child ever speaks again.
4. Get comfortable with discomfort.
Talking about abuse is hard. It’s emotional. It’s confronting. But that discomfort is the cost of awareness — and it’s a small price to pay if it keeps even one child safe.
5. Start the conversation.
Tell five people what you’ve learned today — maybe friends over coffee, colleagues at work, your children’s teachers. The more we talk, the less power silence holds.
You don’t need to be an expert to make a difference. You just need to care — and to act.
When I began this work, I thought my story was about surviving the past. But now I see, it’s about building a future — one where every child knows their body belongs to them, their voice matters, and the adults in their lives will stand up for them.
We can’t erase the harm already done, but we can stop history from repeating itself. We can teach empathy instead of fear, action instead of silence, and awareness instead of ignorance.
Each of us has a circle of influence — in our families, workplaces, and communities. Imagine what could happen if every one of us made children’s safety a shared responsibility.
Because this isn’t just about protection. It’s also about healing.
When children grow up feeling safe, believed, and loved — they thrive. They learn to trust the world again. And that trust spreads outward — shaping kinder families, stronger communities, and a more compassionate Hong Kong.
So today, I invite you to talk. To listen. To learn.
And most importantly, to act.
Together, we can end the silence.
Together, we can protect every child.
Together, we can make sure no child ever walks this road alone again.