FNRL clears $300k debt and pays World Cup player allowances

The Fiji National Rugby League has achieved a significant financial turnaround, clearing approximately $300,000 in debt and ensuring all players and officials heading to the 2026 Rugby League World Cup received their allowances before departure. Executive chairman Rajesh Singh attributes the success to streamlined expenses and financial restructuring over the past six months, expressing gratitude to dedicated staff who made sacrifices to achieve these results. On the field, Fiji's teams have shown promise in their opening matches. The women's Bulikula squad put up a strong fight against New Zealand's Kiwi Ferns, narrowly losing 18-12, while the men's Bati team dominated the Cook Islands 40-12. Both teams face tougher opponents in their upcoming matches, with the Bulikula taking on Papua New Guinea and the Bati facing reigning world champions Australia. Meanwhile, a broader conversation about pay equity has emerged, with the Rugby League Players Association president highlighting the stark disparity between Australian players, who receive AU$40,000 for World Cup participation, and other international players, who receive just AU$850 per match. This story offers a refreshing look at the less glamorous but essential work happening behind the scenes in international sport. Fiji's financial recovery demonstrates how organizational discipline can support athletic achievement, while the pay disparity conversation raises important questions about fairness in global competition. It's a reminder that sporting success depends not just on talent and training, but on the unglamorous work of balancing budgets and advocating for equity—achievements worth celebrating alongside any scoreline.

Mission set to blast off for Mars to grab a piece of its moon

A Japanese-led space mission is preparing to launch with an audacious goal: retrieve a sample from Phobos, one of Mars's two small, potato-shaped moons, and bring it back to Earth. If successful, the Mars Moons Exploration (MMX) mission would mark the first time material from the Martian system has been returned for laboratory analysis. The spacecraft is scheduled to lift off on Monday and reach Phobos by August 2027. The mission faces significant technical challenges. Phobos, only about 20 kilometers across, has minimal gravity of its own while orbiting close to Mars, making it difficult to land a rover on its surface. Scientists plan to deploy a small rover to scout a landing site before the main spacecraft touches down to collect approximately 10 grams of moon dust using a robotic arm and samplers. That tiny capsule of material will return to Earth in 2031, landing in the Australian desert. Despite the modest quantity, researchers emphasize that individual grains can yield valuable scientific insights. There's even a possibility that the sample might contain fragments of Mars itself, ejected by asteroid impacts and embedded in Phobos's surface over time. The mission aims to solve a longstanding mystery: did Phobos and Deimos form from debris after a catastrophic collision with early Mars, or are they captured asteroids from the outer Solar System? Chemical analysis of the returned sample should provide a definitive answer almost immediately. With NASA's Mars Sample Return mission effectively cancelled after losing congressional funding, this Japanese effort represents humanity's best near-term opportunity to study Martian material in Earth-based laboratories—a quiet but remarkable milestone in our exploration of the Red Planet's neighborhood.

'Shared language of horror' uniting Aussie and Indonesian filmmakers

A filmmaking exchange between Indonesian creators and regional Queensland universities is exploring how horror transcends cultural boundaries. The program, inspired by the global success of Australian films like the Philippou brothers' Talk to Me, brought together students to make short horror films in both Indonesia and Toowoomba. According to University of Southern Queensland lecturer Katherine Putnam, fear provides a "shared language" that bridges communication gaps between the collaborators. The cultural exchange reveals fascinating contrasts in what frightens different audiences. Indonesian filmmaker Ivan Mosqueda notes that horror in his country often draws from religion and traditional beliefs, while Australian horror frequently taps into the unease of vast, empty wilderness. Even the insects encountered on set in Toowoomba provided unexpected scares for the Indonesian visitors. Running on a modest $60,000 budget from UniSQ and the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade, the program aims to reduce reliance on U.S. financing and foster direct creative partnerships between the two nations. For the three Australian participants from Cairns, Mackay, and the Sunshine Coast, the opportunity represents something increasingly rare: funding and recognition for regional filmmakers. They're drawing inspiration from success stories like the Philippou brothers, who went from YouTube to box office gold. However, concerns loom as Queensland cuts at least $13 million in annual funding to Screen Queensland over the next two years. This story quietly illustrates how genre filmmaking can build unexpected bridges between cultures while highlighting the fragile ecosystem that supports emerging voices outside major cities—a reminder that creative collaboration often flourishes in surprising places when given the chance.

Baby buffy-tufted-ear marmosets, endangered species, born at zoo in Rio Grande do Sul

Filhotes de sagui-da-serra-escuro, espécie ameaçada, nascem em zoo do RS

A zoo in southern Brazil is celebrating the birth of two tiny newcomers that represent a significant win for conservation. The Sapucaia do Sul Zoological Park in Rio Grande do Sul welcomed twin baby buffy-tufted-ear marmosets, one of the country's most endangered primate species, born to parents Mila and Lindo in late December. The births mark the first successful reproduction since Mila arrived at the zoo in January as part of Brazil's National Conservation Program for the species. This collaborative initiative brings together institutions across the country to maintain a safety population of these critically threatened marmosets, with hopes of eventually bolstering wild populations in their natural habitat. The new family is already on display for visitors to observe, though zoo staff are monitoring from a respectful distance to allow the parents to care for their offspring without intervention. The babies' sex hasn't yet been determined, and keepers report that both infants appear healthy under their parents' attentive care. This story offers a quiet reminder of the patient, collaborative work happening behind the scenes at zoological institutions. While two marmoset babies might seem small in the grand scheme of conservation, each birth in a critically endangered species represents hope and momentum. For visitors to the zoo, it's a chance to witness not just adorable primates, but the tangible results of scientific partnerships working to prevent extinction—one carefully matched pair, one successful birth, one small step toward ensuring these distinctive primates don't disappear from Brazil's forests.

Behind the push to get more young people on the electoral roll

In parking lots and town centers across Aotearoa New Zealand, a youth-led campaign is reimagining civic engagement as a community celebration. On A Roll brings sound systems, performances, free food, and even haircuts to neighborhoods with low voter enrollment, turning voter registration into an event worth attending. The initiative has helped more than 10,000 people enroll so far, with a particular focus on the 166,000 young people aged 18 to 24 who aren't yet on the electoral roll. Campaign director Chantelle Conroy points out that this age group represents the second-largest voting population in the country, making their participation potentially transformative. The approach meets young people where they are, both literally and culturally. Sound systems like Christchurch-based KAWAI and Bigbada Boom—Aotearoa's first women-led reggae sound system—anchor events that feel less like political rallies and more like gatherings that honor community and connection. For KAWAI founder Tūrāhui Payne, the campaign shifted his own perspective; disruptions like the pandemic had left him feeling disconnected from civic life until this initiative reminded him his voice mattered. What makes this story quietly remarkable is its insight into engagement itself. Rather than lecturing young people about duty, On A Roll creates space for them to see their own power reflected back through music and community—the same culture that has historically given voice to struggles for rights and recognition. It's a reminder that participation often begins not with obligation, but with belonging.

Caatinga accounted for nearly 40% of greenhouse gas removals in Brazil in 2022, says UFCG research

Caatinga respondeu por quase 40% das remoções de gases de efeito estufa no Brasil em 2022, aponta pesquisa da UFCG

Brazil's Caatinga, a semi-arid biome often overshadowed by the Amazon rainforest, has emerged as a quietly powerful ally in the fight against climate change. Research from the Federal University of Campina Grande reveals that in 2022, the Caatinga was responsible for removing 410 million tons of CO₂ from the atmosphere—nearly 40% of Brazil's total greenhouse gas removals that year. This figure surpassed both the Atlantic Forest and the Cerrado, challenging assumptions about which ecosystems contribute most to carbon sequestration. The Caatinga's effectiveness stems from its unique characteristics. During photosynthesis, the biome converts approximately 60% of absorbed carbon dioxide into biomass—leaves, branches, trunks, and roots—compared to just 30% in the Amazon, where ecosystem respiration returns more carbon to the air. The region's dramatic seasonal shifts also play a role: after months of drought, just a few days of rain can reactivate photosynthesis, transforming the landscape into an intense carbon sink. Scientists note that semi-arid ecosystems worldwide significantly influence the annual variation in the global carbon cycle. Despite this remarkable potential, the Caatinga remains underrepresented in Brazil's emerging carbon credit market, which became regulated in 2024. Most measurement methodologies were developed for humid environments and don't adapt well to semi-arid conditions. Researchers are working to develop new approaches that reflect the biome's unique dynamics and enable local communities and small producers to access certification. This story offers a reminder that climate solutions may be hiding in unexpected places, and that ecosystems long considered marginal might hold outsized importance in our environmental future.

VIDEO: Deer that lost leg and 'domesticated' porcupine recover at NGO in rural São Paulo

VÍDEO: veado que perdeu pata e ouriço 'domesticada' se recuperam em ONG no interior de SP

At a sprawling conservation center in the Brazilian countryside, two unlikely residents are finding sanctuary after life-altering encounters with human activity. Gigi, a female prehensile-tailed porcupine, and Elliot, a young brocket deer, are among 80 animals receiving care at the Institute of Marine Biology and Environment (IBIMM) on a 1,200-hectare farm in São Paulo state. Gigi's story began three years ago when she was rescued as a tiny infant from a wildfire. Bottle-fed every few hours by veterinary staff, she bonded deeply with her human caregivers—a phenomenon called imprinting that makes her too habituated to people to survive independently in the wild. Despite her gentle demeanor and the affection she shows her caretakers, returning her to the forest would put her at serious risk. Elliot's journey has been equally challenging. The young deer was struck by a sugarcane harvester and suffered injuries so severe that veterinarians had to amputate one of his legs. Now the team is waiting for him to finish growing before fitting him with a prosthetic limb designed to improve his mobility and comfort, though it's unlikely he'll ever be able to return to his natural habitat. This story offers a window into the patient, compassionate work of wildlife rehabilitation—where the goal isn't always release, but rather ensuring dignity and care for animals whose encounters with human infrastructure have left them permanently altered. It's a reminder of the hidden costs of agriculture and development on wildlife, and the dedication required to give these individual creatures a second chance at life, even if it looks different than the one nature intended.

Margaret Hamilton obituary

Margaret Hamilton, who passed away at age 90, was a pioneering software engineer whose work proved essential to the Apollo moon landings. In an era when NASA's space program was overwhelmingly male and white, Hamilton led the software engineering division at MIT's Instrumentation Laboratory, overseeing development of the Apollo Guidance Computer—a revolutionary system that allowed astronauts to navigate and control spacecraft with unprecedented precision. Hamilton's innovation replaced the joystick controls of earlier Gemini missions with computer-linked keypads, creating more accurate flight paths and freeing astronauts for other critical tasks. The system represented a technological leap: it was the first computer built on silicon-integrated circuits, the same technology that would eventually power everyday devices from smartphones to laptops. Her meticulous preparation proved vital during Apollo 11's historic descent in July 1969, when alarms threatened to abort the landing. Having run countless simulations, Hamilton immediately recognized the problem—a radar switch left active, an error she'd seen Buzz Aldrin make during training. Her prior instructions to mission controllers allowed them to reassure Neil Armstrong the alarm could be ignored, and minutes later, the Eagle landed safely. Born in Indiana in 1936 and trained in mathematics, Hamilton began her career developing weather-prediction software alongside chaos theory pioneer Edward Lorenz before joining the Apollo program in 1965. Her story offers a quiet reminder of how individual expertise and calm judgment can shape history's most dramatic moments, and how exceptional talent found its place even within the rigid hierarchies of the 1960s space race.

Japan to launch world-first mission to collect samples from Martian moon

Japan is preparing to launch an ambitious spacecraft mission that aims to do something no one has attempted before: bring back samples from Phobos, one of Mars's two small, irregularly shaped moons. The Martian Moons eXploration (MMX) mission, led by the Japan Aerospace Exploration Agency with international support from NASA and European partners, is scheduled to lift off on a new H3 rocket and embark on a five-year journey that could answer longstanding questions about how these mysterious moons formed. Phobos and its smaller companion Deimos have puzzled scientists for decades. Despite numerous missions to Mars since the 1960s, these moons remain largely unexplored—previous Russian attempts to land on Phobos have all failed. Researchers aren't even certain what these crater-pocked bodies are made of or where they came from. Some believe they're debris from an ancient collision with Mars, while others think they may be captured asteroids from elsewhere in the solar system. The mission will spend three years flying near Phobos, deploying a French-German rover to scout the surface before touching down to collect at least 10 grams of soil using both American and Japanese sampling techniques. Scientists expect the samples to contain traces of Martian material as well, offering a dual window into planetary history. This mission matters because it represents a careful, collaborative effort to explore what project scientists call "the most important unclimbed mountains in the solar system." Beyond satisfying scientific curiosity about our celestial neighborhood, the data gathered could inform future human missions to Mars, potentially identifying these moons as staging areas for astronauts. It's a reminder that even in our own backyard of space, profound mysteries remain waiting to be solved.

Origin of animals may be up to 200 million years older

Origem dos animais pode ser até 200 milhões de anos mais antiga

One of evolutionary biology's enduring puzzles centers on the relatively sudden appearance of animals in the fossil record during the Cambrian period, roughly 539 to 487 million years ago. Though some evidence has hinted at earlier origins, the precise timing has remained elusive. Now, after analyzing microscopic organisms from ancient Mongolian deposits, researchers propose that the animal kingdom may have emerged up to 200 million years earlier than previously thought—between 800 and 700 million years ago, before Earth experienced its most severe ice ages. The study challenges long-held assumptions based on China's Weng'an biota, a 590-million-year-old fossil site renowned for its exceptional preservation of microscopic organisms. Scientists had reasoned that if animals existed before Weng'an, such a well-preserved site would surely have captured their fossils. But the newly studied Kheseen biota from Mongolia—40 million years younger than Weng'an and equally well-preserved—also contains no animal fossils, despite clear evidence that animals existed elsewhere at that time. This absence, researchers argue, likely reflects differences in habitat or chemical conditions rather than the non-existence of animals. Using molecular clock analysis alongside much older fossil deposits from Norway, Australia, and Arizona, the team pushed back estimates for animal origins by some 200 million years. This story offers a reminder that absence of evidence isn't always evidence of absence. It illustrates how scientific understanding evolves not through dramatic finds alone, but through careful reconsideration of what we haven't found—and why. For anyone curious about life's deep history, it's a quietly profound shift in perspective on when our fellow creatures first appeared on Earth.

Two damselfly species return to restored woodland

A three-year woodland restoration project in Hertfordshire has brought unexpected visitors back to ancient forests: two species of damselfly not previously recorded at the site, along with a notable increase in butterfly populations. The Ancient Astonbury and Wilder Woodlands initiative, supported by a £162,698 National Lottery Heritage Fund grant, focused on reviving traditional land management practices across seven nature reserves in the region. The project centered on coppicing—an ancient tree management technique where trees are cut at the base to encourage new growth—and clearing overgrown woodland glades that hadn't been managed in roughly two decades. By opening up the forest canopy and allowing more sunlight to reach the woodland floor, conservationists created conditions for wildflowers to flourish. This, in turn, attracted pollinators and other insects. Beautiful Demoiselle and Willow Emerald damselflies were spotted at Astonbury Wood near Stevenage, while Silver-washed Fritillary butterflies appeared in much higher numbers than in previous years. Even during a dry summer in 2025, hornbeam trees showed strong regrowth after coppicing, demonstrating the resilience of well-managed woodlands. This story offers a quiet reminder that sometimes looking backward—to traditional practices and patient stewardship—can move ecosystems forward. As climate change brings hotter, drier summers to the region, the trust hopes to continue restoration work, particularly around ponds that risk drying out. It's a testament to how thoughtful intervention, rather than simply leaving nature alone, can help wildlife not just survive but return and thrive.

Brazilian researchers participate in study bringing hope of survival to patients with severe liver problems

Pesquisadores brasileiros participam de estudo que traz esperança de sobrevida a pacientes com problemas graves no fígado

Brazilian researchers have contributed to an international study offering new hope to patients with severe liver disease who were once considered too ill for transplantation. The research, aptly named "Chance," involved 63 specialized centers across four continents, with three in Brazil. São Paulo's Hospital das Clínicas alone contributed 99 of the 612 transplants examined in the study, which has been published in leading medical journals. The study challenged long-held assumptions about transplant eligibility. Patients like Maria do Carmo and Moisés, whose liver disease had progressed to affect two or three other organs—including kidneys, heart, lungs, or the central nervous system—were previously deemed too critical for transplant surgery. The research demonstrated that these gravely ill patients could achieve survival rates exceeding 80 percent following transplantation, a dramatic improvement from the 10 to 20 percent chance they faced without intervention. Remarkably, the transplant not only replaces the failing liver but also allows other affected organs to recover. This breakthrough carries profound implications for the nearly 50,000 people waiting for organ transplants in Brazil, including more than 2,300 needing a liver. Researchers emphasize the urgent need to increase organ donation rates and to establish ICU protocols that can quickly stabilize critically ill patients for transplant. The study also highlighted successful use of partial livers from living donors in Asia, taking advantage of the organ's regenerative capacity. For patients like Maria do Carmo, now four years post-transplant and enjoying her cat's companionship, and Moisés, who received his new liver in October, this research represents not just medical advancement but a second chance at life's simple joys.

Ten years of fighting against extinction brought to life on film

A decade of patient conservation work in Western Australia's Wheatbelt has been transformed into a documentary that recently featured at an international film festival. Back to the Bush chronicles the Australian Wildlife Conservancy's ambitious effort at Mt Gibson Wildlife Sanctuary, where a predator-free fence has allowed ten threatened species to recover from near-extinction. Photographer Brad Leue spent years capturing the nocturnal, often elusive animals through camera traps and nighttime stake-outs, sometimes getting playfully knocked about by exuberant woylies—small marsupials with "springs for legs" that can launch themselves two meters into the air. The project has yielded remarkable results: eight of the ten species are now thriving within the sanctuary, 360 kilometers northeast of Perth. These burrowing animals have become what ecologists call "ecosystem engineers," transforming the landscape with their digging until it resembles—in Leue's words—a minefield of pits and burrows. Senior wildlife ecologist Bryony Palmer notes that the changes offer a glimpse of what Australia looked like before feral predators arrived, with footprints and diggings everywhere signaling "the bush and the landscape going back to the way it should be." This story offers a rare piece of good news in conservation: tangible proof that dedicated, long-term effort can reverse decline. The next phase will attempt to establish some species beyond the protective fence, extending the project's impact. It's a quiet reminder that restoration work demands both creativity and persistence, and that sometimes the most meaningful changes unfold slowly, one nocturnal stake-out at a time.

Back where they belong, Murray Cod bring new life to SA's Lake Bonney

Lake Bonney in South Australia's Riverland region has welcomed back hundreds of Murray Cod after years without them. Around 600 mature fish—some up to a meter long—were released into the freshwater lake in early October, marking a hopeful turning point for both the ecosystem and the local community. The reintroduction, coordinated by RecFish SA with government backing, aims to restore a species that had vanished from the lake due to water quality problems and fish kills that severed the lake's connection to the Murray River. The choice to release mature, breeding-ready fish rather than fingerlings means the population could expand quickly in the coming months. Ecologists note that Murray Cod are more than just a fishing draw—they're habitat engineers that can improve water quality and structure throughout the Murray-Darling Basin. For Ngintait elder Norman Wilson, the return holds cultural significance, reflecting the fish's natural cycle of migration and spawning. While the cod may nibble at smaller invasive carp, experts caution they won't solve that problem alone. This story captures a quiet but meaningful act of ecological restoration. It's a reminder that bringing native species back where they belong can ripple outward—reinvigorating waterways, honoring cultural connections, and offering communities a renewed sense of place. For Barmera residents, many of whom keep a fishing rod in the shed, the cod's return adds another reason to gather by the water and wait for the catch-and-release season to begin in 2027.

Scientists unearth remarkable volcanic origins of Lord Howe Island

Lord Howe Island, a World Heritage site rising dramatically from the Tasman Sea 600 kilometers off Australia's east coast, holds a geological secret beneath its surface. The island's towering basalt peaks are the visible remains of a 7-million-year-old shield volcano, but it's merely the tip of a vast underwater mountain range. Two parallel chains of mostly submerged extinct volcanoes stretch for 1,500 kilometers along Australia's eastern seaboard, their unusual proximity puzzling scientists for years. New research published in Gondwana Research offers an elegant explanation for this geological oddity. As the Australian tectonic plate has drifted northward over tens of millions of years, a deep Earth hotspot—essentially a blowtorch of super-heated rock rising from the planet's interior—has punched through the crust, creating volcanoes. Each volcano is eventually carried away by the plate's movement, forming chains like breadcrumbs marking the continent's journey. Lead author Ben Mather and his team used 3D numerical modeling to demonstrate that the mantle plume likely encountered an obstacle deep underground—a slab of ancient seafloor that had sunk hundreds of kilometers into the Earth. Rather than stopping, the plume split into two branches, creating both the Lord Howe and Tasmantid seamount chains from a single source. This story quietly rewrites our understanding of how the Earth's interior shapes the surface we see. It reminds us that even familiar landmarks like Lord Howe Island are chapter markers in a planetary story written over millions of years, and that the ground beneath our feet—or beneath the waves—remains full of surprises waiting to be decoded.

What images of a female elephant carrying a dead calf tell us about animal grief

O que as imagens de uma elefanta carregando um filhote morto nos dizem sobre o luto dos animais

A photograph capturing a female elephant carrying a stillborn calf through Namibia's desert has won the 2026 Wildlife Photographer of the Year award, but the story behind the image reveals something even more profound than it first appears. Photographer Federico Veronesi encountered the scene while following a herd along a dry riverbed in September 2025, watching as the elephant carefully held the tiny body in her trunk for hours, pausing only to eat or drink before continuing her journey. The most striking detail emerged later: the elephant wasn't carrying her own calf. Conservation director Christin Winter discovered that this 14-year-old female had lost her own baby two years earlier, and since then has been observed carrying the stillborn calves of other mothers on four separate occasions—the first time such behavior has been documented in the region. Winter suggests this may be a form of emotional processing, a way the elephant attempts to reconnect with her own lost offspring, or perhaps an effort to protect the bodies from predators. The behavior hints at trauma that persists across years. This photograph offers more than a glimpse of grief; it reveals the complex emotional lives of Namibia's desert elephants, a population of about 150 individuals who have adapted to arid conditions through learned knowledge rather than genetic change. Their survival depends on passing down this cultural wisdom about where to find water and food in an unforgiving landscape. The image is a quiet reminder that elephants experience loss and memory in ways that mirror our own—a connection that makes their vulnerability, and their resilience, all the more remarkable.

Who is the devotee of Saint Francis who walks 130 km on pilgrimage in Ceará at 84 years old

Quem é a devota de São Francisco que caminha 130 km em romaria no Ceará aos 84 anos

At 84 years old, Maria de Lourdes de Nascimento—known affectionately as Lourdinha—has been walking 130 kilometers from Fortaleza to Canindé in northeastern Brazil for the past 24 years. Her annual pilgrimage honors São Francisco (Saint Francis of Assisi), and she's passed this devotion down through generations. What catches attention isn't just the distance or her age, but the spirit with which she undertakes the journey: wearing simple flip-flops instead of hiking boots, dressed in the traditional brown Franciscan robe, and praying for those she knows along the way. Lourdinha serves as a Eucharistic minister in her parish, visiting homebound community members who cannot attend church. She raised seven children while working in a cashew processing factory, enduring personal losses including the death of twin infants. Yet her granddaughter Juliana recalls never hearing complaints about the pilgrimage—only stories of joy and renewal. This year, when Juliana struggled to complete the walk on foot, it was the grandmother who continued while asking organizers to help her granddaughter by car. Fellow pilgrims describe Lourdinha with deep affection, seeing her as a living example of faith. The Canindé pilgrimage tradition stretches back 270 years, drawing devotees to the world's second-largest Franciscan sanctuary. This story offers a quiet portrait of endurance that has nothing to prove. In an age often focused on optimization and performance, Lourdinha's journey reminds us that some of life's most meaningful acts are sustained not by athleticism or recognition, but by devotion, community, and the simple choice to keep walking—year after year, in flip-flops, toward something greater than oneself.

VIDEO: Employee confuses ingredients, 'dyes' croquettes pink and bakery goes viral on the internet

VÍDEO: funcionário confunde ingredientes, 'tinge' coxinha de rosa e confeitaria viraliza na internet

A kitchen mix-up at a small bakery in Itupeva, Brazil, turned into an unexpected viral sensation when an employee accidentally used red food coloring instead of paprika powder, transforming their traditional chicken croquettes—known as coxinhas—into a bright pink creation. The mistake was discovered mid-preparation, and while the staff initially panicked, owner Matheus Lucas da Silva de Andrade chose grace over reprimand. Instead of discarding the batch, his wife Mariana, who handles marketing, suggested connecting the unexpected color to Outubro Rosa, Brazil's Breast Cancer Awareness Month campaign. The video documenting the pink coxinhas quickly caught fire online, accumulating over seven million views. What began as 40,000 views in the first few hours ballooned to one million by the next morning and six million within a day. The altered color didn't affect taste or texture—the small amount of food coloring simply replaced the paprika without compromising the potato-based dough. Reactions online ranged from delight to political debate, with some calling the team visionaries while others questioned the campaign tie-in. Interestingly, while in-person customers remained hesitant despite promotions, delivery orders—which account for 80% of the bakery's sales—embraced the novelty enthusiastically. This story offers a quiet lesson in turning mistakes into opportunities. The 80 pink coxinhas sold out in two days, and the bakery's traditional croquette videos also gained traction. It's a reminder that creativity, kindness toward employees, and a willingness to embrace the unexpected can transform a moment of panic into something genuinely memorable—and that sometimes the most authentic marketing comes from simply sharing what happens when things don't go according to plan.

Mãe Senhora de Ewá, one of Brazil's oldest ialorixás, dies at 104 in Bahia

Mãe Senhora de Ewá, uma das ialorixás mais antigas do Brasil, morre aos 104 anos na Bahia

Brazil has lost one of its most venerable spiritual leaders with the passing of Mãe Senhora de Ewá, a Candomblé priestess who died in Salvador, Bahia, at the age of 104. As an ialorixá—a female leader within the Afro-Brazilian religious tradition—she spent more than seven decades preserving and transmitting the knowledge, rituals, and wisdom of her faith community. Mãe Senhora's life was steeped in Candomblé from infancy. After losing her mother in childbirth, she was brought to the Gantois temple at just one month old and raised by two legendary priestesses, Mãe Menininha do Gantois and Mãe Laura. Initiated into the faith in 1950, she eventually led her own terreiro, or temple, in the Praia Grande neighborhood, where she became known for her warmth, authority, and dedication to welcoming and teaching her spiritual children. Her centenary celebration in 2022 drew recognition from the National Federation of Afro-Brazilian Worship, and later that year, Salvador's city council honored her with the Maria Quitéria Medal for her contributions to the city, particularly her stand against religious intolerance and her advocacy for women's autonomy. This story offers a window into the living history of Candomblé, a faith tradition that has endured centuries of marginalization yet continues to thrive through leaders like Mãe Senhora. Her long life and legacy remind us how knowledge passes from generation to generation—not through books alone, but through presence, ritual, and care.

Meet Theodoro, a jaguar monitored for 5 years who mobilized a 3-hour rescue in the interior of São Paulo

Conheça Theodoro, onça-pintada monitorada há 5 anos que mobilizou resgate de 3h no interior de SP

In the forests of Morro do Diabo State Park in São Paulo, Brazil, researchers have been quietly tracking the movements of Theodoro, a robust jaguar whose unique rosette pattern serves as his fingerprint. Named after Teodoro Fernandes Sampaio, a 19th-century geographer who explored the region, this adult male has become something of a local legend among conservationists who monitor him through the Monitora Bio SP program. Theodoro's familiarity with researchers proved fortunate when military police spotted him near a busy highway. What initially seemed like a roadside tragedy — a report of a jaguar hit by a vehicle — turned into a careful, three-hour effort to guide the exhausted cat back to safety. When biodiversity director Andréa Pires arrived at the scene and saw the distinctive rosette patterns, she immediately recognized him. The rescue required no chemical sedation; instead, the team patiently followed Theodoro's pace as he rested three times along the route. At one point, when he stopped just 30 meters from a gate, the crew opened a nearby fence section to give him an easier path home. Since 2021, camera traps scattered throughout the park's nearly 34,000 hectares have documented Theodoro's remarkable range. He travels the entire park and its ecological corridors, sometimes covering over 40 kilometers in a single day. This story offers a window into the dedicated, often invisible work of wildlife monitoring — and a reminder that conservation sometimes means simply knowing an animal well enough to recognize it in a moment of need and guide it home with patience rather than intervention.

‘Ozu showed the way’: A documentarian looks for the man behind the legend

A Los Angeles documentary filmmaker has turned his lens toward one of Japan's most revered directors, creating an intimate portrait that's resonating with audiences worldwide. Daniel Raim, whose previous work focused on American cinema figures—including an Oscar-nominated film about production designer Robert F. Boyle—has ventured across cultural boundaries with "The Ozu Diaries," a deep exploration of Yasujiro Ozu, the acclaimed Golden Age Japanese filmmaker known for contemplative family dramas. Raim's documentary stands out for going beyond the legend to examine Ozu as both artist and human being. The film premiered at the Venice International Film Festival and has since traveled the festival circuit, earning critical praise for its thoughtful approach. Reviewers have particularly noted how the documentary illuminates the man behind classics that have influenced generations of filmmakers. The film has screened at prominent venues including the Tokyo International Film Festival and Italy's Udine Far East Film Festival, introducing Ozu's legacy to new audiences while offering fresh perspective to those already familiar with his work. What makes this documentary quietly remarkable is how a filmmaker from one cinematic tradition can illuminate another with such evident care and understanding. Raim's admiration for his subject permeates every frame, suggesting that great artistry transcends cultural boundaries. For anyone interested in how filmmakers see filmmakers—or how dedication to craft creates bridges between different worlds—this cross-cultural act of appreciation offers something both educational and genuinely moving.

Australia's first Vietnamese heritage museum opens in Melbourne

Australia's first museum dedicated to Vietnamese heritage has opened in Melbourne's Sunshine suburb, marking a significant milestone for one of the country's largest migrant communities. The Vietnamese Museum Australia honors the experiences of the more than 350,000 people of Vietnamese origin living in Australia, many of whom fled their homeland as refugees following the end of the Vietnam War in the mid-1970s. The journey was often perilous—museum CEO Tammy Nguyen's own parents escaped on a harrowing six-day boat voyage—and represents a profound chapter in both Vietnamese and Australian history. The museum's opening follows a decade-long community campaign and received bipartisan political support, with both federal and Victorian governments contributing millions alongside grassroots donations. Built on a former council car park, the center aims to preserve the stories of courage and resilience that defined the Vietnamese-Australian experience. Historians note that public attitudes toward Vietnamese refugees in the 1970s and 1980s were complex, mixing genuine compassion—particularly given Australia's involvement in the war—with racial anxieties lingering from the White Australia policy era. Many refugees faced discrimination even as churches and community organizations offered generous support. This story matters because it documents how a community that once faced uncertain welcome has become an integral part of Australia's fabric. The museum doesn't just preserve history; it acknowledges both the hardships and the generational achievements that followed, offering a space where individual stories of sacrifice and hope can be honored and shared for generations to come.

Country diary: The challenge of making a thatched roof pine-marten proof | Tom Allan

A thatcher working on a roundhouse in the Scottish Cairngorms discovered an unusual culprit behind damage to the roof: a pine marten. The curious mustelid had burrowed into the moss-covered thatch, leaving toothmarks on the reed and a ten-inch scoop in the roof's center. While squirrels, rats, and jackdaws commonly damage thatched roofs, pine martens are a rarer challenge for the craft. The homeowner, Pam Aitchison, had been feeding the pine marten peanut butter and jam sandwiches before suspecting it might be responsible for the damage. A neighbor shared his own experience living with a pair of martens that nested in his garage roof, ultimately deciding to coexist with them after finding their persistence unstoppable. The thatcher hopes his tightly packed new work will prove less inviting than the soft, weathered surface the marten found so appealing. What makes this story quietly remarkable is how it weaves together wildlife, traditional craft, and local ecology. The replacement reed comes from just down the road in Tayside—Britain's largest continuous reedbed, an eleven-mile arc of Phragmites originally planted as flood defense in the early 19th century. Now managed by the RSPB, this wetland supports a quarter of Britain's bearded tit population, along with marsh harriers and water rails. It's a gentle reminder that traditional building materials and methods remain deeply connected to living landscapes, and that the work of preserving old crafts sometimes means negotiating with the wild neighbors who find them equally useful.

Brazil’s Amazon deforestation hits lowest level on record

Brazil's Amazon rainforest has reached a remarkable environmental milestone, with deforestation dropping to its lowest level since monitoring began in 1988. According to data from Brazil's space research agency Inpe, just 3,335 square kilometers of forest were cleared in the twelve months through July—a 42 percent decrease from the previous year. The figures represent a dramatic turnaround from the mid-1990s, when annual losses approached 30,000 square kilometers, and mark significant progress since deforestation peaked at a 15-year high under former president Jair Bolsonaro. The achievement reflects sustained effort over recent years, with deforestation declining annually since 2022 and falling more than 71 percent over four years. Environmental advocates credit increased monitoring and stricter enforcement against illegal logging for the improvements. President Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva, who took office in 2023 with a pledge to end illegal deforestation by 2030, called the results proof that political commitment can curb forest loss and greenhouse gas emissions. The neighboring Cerrado savanna has also seen encouraging trends, with clearing down 24 percent to its lowest level since records began in 2001. This story matters because it offers a rare piece of encouraging news in the often-discouraging realm of global environmental challenges. It demonstrates that targeted policy interventions can reverse even deeply entrenched environmental damage, providing a potential model for forest conservation efforts worldwide. The Amazon's role as a critical carbon sink and biodiversity reservoir makes every square kilometer preserved a quiet victory for the planet's ecological future.

Doctorate awarded to elder for 50 years teaching 'any child to read'

Yuin elder Aunty Ruth Simms has been posthumously honored with a doctorate from the University of New South Wales, recognizing five decades of transformative work in Aboriginal education. Born in La Perouse in 1941, Dr. Simms became the longest-serving Aboriginal Education Officer in NSW, dedicating her career to ensuring every child—Indigenous and non-Indigenous alike—could learn to read. Her daughter remembers her mother's bold confidence: "I can get any child to read," she would say, backing up those words with tireless effort and unwavering belief in her students' potential. Dr. Simms began her educational career in 1976, one of sixty Aboriginal educators hired to combat discrimination in NSW public schools. Despite facing her own battles with prejudice—she wasn't even introduced to staff on her first day—she built a reputation as a dedicated educator with strong convictions. Beyond the classroom, she contributed to local, national, and international curriculum development, earning an Order of Australia medal in 2012. Just months before her death from cancer at age 85, she learned of the doctorate and meticulously planned the ceremony, choosing speakers and asking her daughter to accept the honor on her behalf. This story matters because it illuminates the quiet, persistent work that shapes generations. Dr. Simms' legacy extends far beyond reading lessons—she embodied the power of representation, determination, and the belief that every child deserves an educator who sees their potential. Her recent children's book, *Muttonfish Magic*, ensures her voice and stories will continue teaching long after her passing, a fitting capstone to a life spent opening doors for others.

Uncovering the secrets of New Zealand’s elusive ‘jungle penguins’

In the remote fjords of New Zealand's South Island, researchers are unraveling the mysteries of one of the world's most peculiar penguins. The Fiordland crested penguin, known by its Māori name tawaki, has proven so elusive that scientists describe it as a "ghost." These half-meter-tall birds with striking yellow eyebrows dig elaborate tunnel systems to escape capture, sometimes taking researchers days to retrieve tracking devices. Until 2014, almost nothing was known about them. The Tawaki Project, founded by Dr. Thomas Mattern and his wife Ursula Ellenberg, has mapped over 1,200 nests across nine fjords in twelve years, revealing a population roughly three times larger than previously thought. What makes these penguins truly unusual is their complete rejection of typical penguin behavior. While most penguins nest in coastal colonies, tawaki build solitary burrows deep in dense rainforest, sometimes at high elevations, earning them the nickname "jungle penguins." Their hunting habits vary unpredictably between fjords, with some groups fishing locally while others venture to the open ocean. Perhaps most baffling is their pre-molting migration. Each December, after breeding season ends and despite abundant local food, these exhausted penguins embark on a 5,000 to 7,000 kilometer journey to sub-Antarctic waters to feed before their annual feather replacement. Mattern likens it to "running a marathon while trying to gain weight." He suspects they're following ancient instincts shared with other crested penguin species. This story reminds us how much remains unknown even about creatures living in well-studied regions, and how patient observation can reveal nature's delightful refusal to follow our expectations.

Two sisters and one piano working wonders at dementia village

Two young sisters in Hobart, Australia, discovered something remarkable while visiting a family friend with dementia: when they played piano for him, his stress seemed to melt away. Min Luo, 12, and Fei Shan, 9, noticed he would tap his hands, hum along, and find a moment of peace in the music. That small observation inspired them to share their gift more widely, performing concerts at aged care facilities for residents living with dementia. At the Korongee Dementia Village, their performances bring visible joy. Residents tap their feet, nod along, and sometimes reconnect with emotions and memories they struggle to access otherwise. Nick Dickens, a 75-year-old former rock guitarist living with frontotemporal and vascular dementia, describes the effect simply: "The old stress goes out the window … it just makes you feel alive." He's noticed that even residents who seem withdrawn most of the time respond when music fills the room. Researchers have found that the part of the brain responsible for musical memory is unusually resilient to dementia's progression, allowing people to recognize and respond to music even when other cognitive abilities fade. Music also releases dopamine, which can lift mood and ease anxiety. This story is a gentle reminder of how small acts of generosity can have outsized impact. Two children, armed only with their instruments and curiosity, stumbled upon a way to reach people that medicine alone cannot. In a world where dementia is now Australia's leading cause of death, their concerts offer something beyond research or treatment—they offer connection, joy, and a language everyone can understand.

Public servant born without arms cooks, drives, and rappels: 'Driving is autonomy'

Servidora pública que nasceu sem os braços cozinha, dirige e faz rapel: 'Dirigir é autonomia'

Kathrein Moura, a public servant living in Anápolis, Brazil, was born without arms and has built a life centered on independence and possibility. She drives, cooks, rappels down 30-meter cliffs, and shares her daily experiences with more than 374,000 followers on social media, where she also works as a content creator and brand partner. Learning to drive held special significance for Kathrein. She traveled from her hometown to Goiânia to attend a driving school specializing in instruction for people with disabilities, practicing in an automatic car with power steering and using her feet to buckle her seatbelt, adjust controls, and operate the steering wheel. "Driving isn't just independence," she explains. "For people with disabilities, driving is autonomy." Her online videos document not only the mechanics of her adaptation but also her encouragement to other women not to give up on driving out of fear. Beyond driving, her content shows her preparing meals with her feet, visiting restaurants, spending time with family, and trying new adventures—including her first rappelling descent, which she approached with equal parts excitement and nervousness, joking about taking a selfie mid-air. Kathrein's story is worth attention not because it sensationalizes difference, but because it quietly redefines what's possible. Her social media presence offers a window into adaptive living that feels natural and unforced—disability appears as one part of her life, not its defining feature. In sharing both her capabilities and her vulnerabilities, she opens a conversation about accessibility and the importance of society adapting to people, rather than the other way around.

Exhibition celebrates six generations of Hetet and Te Kanawa weaving whānau

A new exhibition in Hamilton, New Zealand, honors six generations of the Hetet and Te Kanawa whānau, whose dedication to raranga—traditional Māori weaving—has helped preserve and elevate the craft on the world stage. Rīpoi Anamata, Rīpoi Inamata brings together more than 180 years of family legacy at Te Whare Taonga o Waikato Museum and Gallery, showcasing the work of matriarchs like Mere Te Rongopāmamao Aubrey, Dame Rangimārie Hetet, and Diggeress Te Kanawa, alongside their descendants. The exhibition features over 25 kākahu (woven garments) and explores the connection between portraits and weaving. One striking portrait shows third- and fourth-generation mokopuna wearing korowai crafted by their kuia, Dame Rangimārie Hetet. Ata Te Kanawa, Diggeress's daughter and part of the exhibition's working group, explains the portrait captures the children's strength and confidence—they attend wharekura and are fluent in te reo Māori. The collection includes pieces from across the family, including a garment made from dingo by a niece in Australia and one gifted to opera singer Dame Kiri Te Kanawa. Ata recalls a childhood memory of hiding under a piano during a fundraiser for Kiri's training in London, as no one in the room had experienced opera singing before. This exhibition is more than a display of beautiful craft—it's a testament to intergenerational dedication, cultural continuity, and the quiet power of teaching. The Hetet and Te Kanawa whānau didn't just preserve raranga; they embedded it in daily life and passed it forward with patience and foresight. It's a story about how art and tradition thrive when they're lived, not just remembered.

Saving big cats: Storytelling duo Steve Winter & Sharon Guynup publish new book

Wildlife photographer Steve Winter and environmental journalist Sharon Guynup have spent more than two decades tracking big cats across the planet—from Indian jungles to the Hollywood Hills—and their new book makes a compelling case that great storytelling can spark real conservation change. Winter's camera trap images have won top honors in wildlife photography, capturing intimate moments with tigers, snow leopards, jaguars, and other elusive felines. Guynup, now Mongabay's global wildlife editor, has exposed wildlife trafficking and documented innovative coexistence strategies. Together, the life and work partners have produced investigations that moved beyond raising awareness to achieving tangible results. Their collaborative projects have helped create wildlife corridors, supported ecotourism that benefits local communities, and even influenced policy. Notably, their reporting on captive tigers in the United States contributed to passage of the Big Cat Public Safety Act. They've also exposed troubling operations like Thailand's Tiger Temple, a tourist attraction masquerading as a monastery that they helped shut down. The duo emphasizes that technology—from camera traps to GPS collars—has revolutionized both the art of photographing these animals and the science of protecting them. Yet Winter and Guynup remind us that conservation has no finish line. Despite decades of effort, all big cat species remain vulnerable to extinction, and new challenges constantly emerge. Their book, published by National Geographic, gathers 170 photographs and the stories behind their most impactful encounters over 25 years. It's both a testament to what dedicated storytelling can achieve and a quiet call to continue the work—a reminder that stunning images paired with rigorous journalism can help people and wildlife find ways to thrive together.

Astronomers discover first green star ever identified; understand what explains the rare color

Astrônomos descobrem primeira estrela verde já identificada; entenda o que explica a cor rara

Astronomers have identified the first green star ever recorded — a white dwarf named WD J1330+6435 located about 280 light-years from Earth in the constellation Draco. This ghostly yellow-green hue represents a rare departure from the usual rules that govern stellar color, where temperature typically determines whether a star appears orange, white, or blue. The unusual color emerged from a cosmic recycling process. This white dwarf, the dense remnant core of a star that exhausted its nuclear fuel, absorbed rocky debris from planets that once orbited it. That debris enriched the star's outer layers with elements including calcium, lithium, and especially sodium. Under the extreme density of the white dwarf — roughly Earth-sized but containing half the Sun's mass — sodium atoms behave differently than they would in normal stars. Constantly bombarded by surrounding helium atoms, the sodium no longer absorbs just a narrow band of orange wavelengths as it does in ordinary stars or streetlights. Instead, it absorbs yellows, oranges, and some reds, leaving behind a distinctive greenish-yellow glow. This discovery emerged from a broader project examining how white dwarfs would actually appear to human eyes. The researchers liken the phenomenon to a painter's palette: remove certain colors from the mix, and the final result transforms. For those drawn to the unexpected corners of the cosmos, this green star offers a reminder that the universe still holds visual surprises — not from exotic distant galaxies, but from the quiet fate awaiting ordinary stars, transformed by physics into something entirely unfamiliar.

The wound that suggests Neandertals were more violent than previously believed

La herida que sugiere que los neandertales eran más violentos de lo que se creía

A 75,000-year-old Neandertal skeleton discovered in a cave in Iraqi Kurdistan bears a remarkably circular hole in its shoulder blade that researchers believe was caused by a wooden spear. The 15-millimeter wound appears to have been inflicted from the front, piercing through the chest, likely damaging a lung and major blood vessels before exiting through the left shoulder blade. This finding may represent the earliest evidence of lethal interpersonal violence using such a weapon in the prehistoric Middle East. Dr. Emma Pomeroy from Cambridge University notes that the wound's clean, circular shape doesn't occur naturally and closely matches damage patterns from experimental reconstructions using wooden spears. While the injury could theoretically result from a hunting accident or friendly fire, experts like Professor Chris Stringer from London's Natural History Museum consider an attack by a rival the most plausible explanation, given the wound's location and severity. Intriguingly, another Neandertal from the same cave system, dating to 50,000 years ago, also showed evidence of a partially healed spear wound. This discovery adds to a growing body of evidence suggesting that violence among early humans was more common than previously thought. Rather than depicting Neandertals as peaceful, these findings hint at a more complex social reality that included conflict alongside the cooperation and care for which they're also known. It's a quiet reminder that certain human behaviors may have deeper roots in our shared prehistoric past than we'd perhaps like to acknowledge.

News in Cartoons: Cartooning for Peace, 20 Years of Commitment to Human Rights and Democracy

L'actu en dessin : Cartooning for Peace, 20 ans d'engagement pour les droits humains et la démocratie

Cartooning for Peace, an international network of editorial cartoonists, is marking its twentieth anniversary this year. The organization was founded on October 16, 2006, at the United Nations headquarters in New York through an unlikely but powerful partnership: Kofi Annan, then UN Secretary-General and Nobel Peace Prize laureate, joined forces with Plantu, a prominent press cartoonist, to convene twelve international cartoonists for a colloquium titled "Unlearning Intolerance – Drawing for Peace." The initiative emerged from a turbulent moment in global discourse. Both founders were struck by the intense controversy surrounding the publication of cartoons depicting the Prophet Muhammad, which had ignited fierce debate about free expression, religious sensitivity, and cross-cultural understanding. They recognized that editorial cartoons occupied a unique and vital position in democratic dialogue and intercultural exchange. What began as a gathering of twelve has grown into a network of 374 cartoonists spanning 80 countries, united by their commitment to using visual commentary as a tool for promoting human rights and democratic values. In an era when press freedom faces mounting challenges worldwide, the work of Cartooning for Peace feels particularly urgent. The organization's mission—to advance freedom of expression, human rights, and mutual respect across cultures and belief systems through the universal language of cartooning—speaks to the enduring power of visual satire. This anniversary offers a moment to appreciate how a simple drawing can transcend language barriers, provoke necessary conversations, and defend the values that sustain open societies, all while reminding us that humor and artistry remain essential instruments of peaceful resistance.

The G.O.A.T: Inside an Auckland man's therapeutic mission with his herd

When Grant Solley adopted two goats named Steve and Dave in 2018, he had no grand plans beyond adding them to his daily dog walks around Auckland's beaches. But the delighted reactions from passersby—jaws dropping, smiles spreading—sparked an unexpected mission. What began as casual seaside strolls has grown into a therapeutic herd of more than 20 goats, with about a dozen making regular appearances at events across the city, from the Easter Show to the upcoming Armageddon Expo. Solley discovered that goats possess a particular gift for comfort. Like cats or dogs, they invite calm connection through simple presence—sitting still for pats, posing for selfies, or quietly chewing cud while people stroke their coats. His biggest goat, Steve (the original), stands an impressive 237 centimeters upright and has become something of a local celebrity, a natural poser who turns toward cameras on cue. Meanwhile, George, another member of the herd distinguished by his impressive sideways-curving horns, recently made his film debut in *The Lord of the Rings: The Hunt for Gollum*, shot at Hobbiton. For Solley, the work runs deeper than entertainment. Watching people's faces light up—sometimes even bringing tears of joy—has become his own form of therapy. He's committed to continuing this unlikely mission for as long as his goats remain healthy, which could be another decade or more. It's a gentle reminder that sometimes the most meaningful connections come from the most unexpected places, and that sharing simple joy might be one of the greatest therapies of all.

After experiencing racism, entrepreneur creates tourism platform that generates R$4 million per year

Após sofrer racismo, empreendedor cria plataforma de turismo que fatura R$ 4 milhões por ano

A personal encounter with racism became the seed for a thriving business that now reaches across continents. Ten years ago, Brazilian entrepreneur Carlos Humberto faced discrimination while traveling and renting out his own property—including one incident where guests refused to stay upon learning their host was Black. Rather than retreat, he saw an opportunity to reshape how tourism could honor overlooked histories and create economic pathways for Black entrepreneurs. The result is a digital platform dedicated to afro-tourism, connecting travelers with cultural experiences rooted in Black history, tradition, and creativity. Today, the marketplace hosts more than 800 providers across 145 cities, offering everything from guided walks through historic neighborhoods to cultural events and locally run accommodations. In Florianópolis, guide Bia Pimentel leads visitors through stories of Black figures who helped build the city but rarely appear in conventional tours. Her work, like that of hundreds of others on the platform, reaches a global audience through careful curation that prioritizes quality, authenticity, and storytelling. The company now operates in 18 countries, employs a team of 30, and generates around R$4 million annually, with a new office recently opened in Portugal. This story is worth attention not only for its business success, but for what it quietly models: how visibility and economic opportunity can be built from the ground up, turning historical erasure into shared knowledge and ancestral memory into livelihood. It's a reminder that inclusive economies often begin with someone refusing to accept exclusion as the final word.

Waka destined for French museum will honour 'courageous feats' of Māori Pioneer Battalion soldiers

In a workshop at Te Puia in Rotorua, New Zealand, a group of master carvers is creating something extraordinary: a waka (traditional Māori canoe) that will travel halfway around the world to honor ancestors who did the same more than a century ago. The Waka Maumahara is destined for the Carrière Wellington museum in Arras, France, where it will commemorate the Māori Pioneer Battalion soldiers who served in World War I's tunneling operations. Among the carvers is 22-year-old Tiaan Greig, working at the same age his great-great-grandfather was when he helped dig the elaborate underground network at Arras in 1916. That system of quarries, large enough to shelter 24,000 soldiers, enabled one of the war's most effective surprise attacks. The 43 Māori men who participated named tunnel sections after places back home and left inscriptions that still remain. Greig and his fellow carvers have woven the artistic styles of each soldier's iwi (tribe) into the waka's design, creating a vessel that carries multiple tribal traditions in one form. What makes this project particularly moving is the reciprocal nature of remembrance. While New Zealanders work to honor their ancestors' sacrifice in a distant war, the people of Arras have maintained that memory across generations, giving the small New Zealand contingent "pride of place" in their museum. The waka, halfway complete and scheduled for unveiling next year, represents more than historical acknowledgment—it's a binding between cultures and a reminder of young people who traveled impossibly far from home. For those creating it, the work is both deeply personal and a way to ensure future generations understand what their tīpuna (ancestors) gave.

‘Mentor’: A mordant exploration of guilt and absolution

Japanese filmmaker Keisuke Yoshida stands out in his country's cinema landscape as one of the rare directors who writes his own original screenplays. His distinctive voice blends social realism with a dark, sometimes unsettling sense of humor that invites audiences to laugh even as they confront uncomfortable truths about human nature and contradiction. His latest film, "Mentor," marks his second release this year, following "Unchained." While the two works share thematic ground—both examining questions around rehabilitation's boundaries and whether true forgiveness is possible—"Mentor" ultimately charts its own unexpected course. Yoshida's writing style appears exploratory rather than predetermined, as if he allows the story and characters to reveal their direction organically rather than forcing them toward a planned conclusion. This approach to filmmaking, where mordant comedy meets earnest social inquiry, creates a viewing experience that's simultaneously thought-provoking and emotionally complex. For audiences drawn to cinema that resists easy answers and explores the messy reality of guilt, redemption, and human failing without resorting to sentiment or simple moral judgments, Yoshida's work offers something quietly remarkable: a willingness to sit with discomfort and follow difficult questions wherever they lead, even when the destination surprises everyone involved.

Chickens allowed free range again in Victoria as bird flu lockdown ends

After ten weeks of mandatory indoor confinement, poultry farmers in southern Victoria are allowed to let their birds roam free again, even as H5N1 bird flu continues to spread among wild animals. The lockdown, which began in early August and affected flocks of 50 or more birds in metropolitan Melbourne and coastal regions, was lifted with animal welfare and forecasted hot summer temperatures in mind. The decision reflects a careful balancing act between disease prevention and the practical realities of poultry farming. While H5N1 has been confirmed in 234 wildlife events across Victoria, it has not yet jumped to domestic poultry or livestock. Agriculture Victoria's Chief Veterinary Officer Graeme Cooke emphasized that reducing contact between domestic and wild birds remains crucial, and authorities retain the ability to reimpose restrictions if the situation changes. Farmers, who have been supportive of the protective measures, are being urged to maintain strong biosecurity practices and remain vigilant for signs of illness in their flocks. This story offers a window into the ongoing challenge of managing emerging diseases in an interconnected world where wildlife and agriculture exist side by side. It's a reminder that public health decisions often require weighing multiple concerns—in this case, preventing disease spread while also ensuring animal welfare during extreme heat. The cooperative approach between farmers and authorities, and the careful monitoring that continues, shows how communities navigate uncertain threats with both caution and pragmatism.

Residents and biologists unite to map and protect animals in Amapá reserve

Moradores e biólogos se unem para mapear e proteger animais em reserva no Amapá

In a remote corner of the Brazilian Amazon, an unusual partnership is quietly documenting the forest's hidden inhabitants. Biologists and local community members have joined forces to monitor biodiversity in the Rio Iratapuru Sustainable Development Reserve in Amapá state, tracking everything from fruit-feeding butterflies to primates, rodents, and armadillos. The second expedition of 2026, part of Brazil's National Biodiversity Monitoring Program, recently wrapped up and shared its findings. The fieldwork reflects a thoughtful approach to understanding forest ecosystems. Researchers set 48 traps along three trails to study butterflies, while standardized forest walks helped census mammals and birds. What makes the effort particularly meaningful is the involvement of neighboring residents who serve as local monitors, bringing intimate knowledge of the land to complement scientific expertise. By returning to the same sampling stations across seasons, the team can compare data over time and detect shifts in species presence—a patient, cumulative process that builds a clearer picture of the reserve's ecological rhythms. This story matters because it illustrates conservation as a collaborative, long-term endeavor rather than a dramatic rescue mission. The next monitoring phase is scheduled for late November, marking five years of continuous wildlife tracking. In an era often dominated by headlines about environmental loss, here is a quieter narrative: communities and scientists working side by side, season after season, to know and protect a place. It's the kind of sustained attention that doesn't make for flashy news, but may ultimately prove more enduring than any single intervention.

Impact of ending the 6x1 schedule on the economy: what examples of reduced working hours in European countries show

Impacto do fim da escala 6x1 na economia: o que mostram exemplos de redução de jornada em países europeus

Brazil's Senate has approved a constitutional amendment ending the controversial 6x1 work schedule—six days on, one day off—and reducing the standard workweek from 44 to 40 hours, with guaranteed pay protection. The measure, which passed by an overwhelming 75-1 vote in two rounds, affects roughly 14.8 million workers, or just under 15% of Brazil's employed population. While labor experts note this represents a relatively small segment that can adapt, industry groups warn of potential economic contraction, estimating a 0.7% drop in GDP. The backdrop makes the story particularly interesting: Brazil hasn't reduced work hours since 1988, when the Constitution set the limit at 44 hours weekly. Yet in those nearly four decades, worker productivity has grown by 34%, and Brazil's economy has expanded from $320 billion to $2.27 trillion. This suggests Brazilians have been producing more in less time—a pattern mirrored in European countries that reduced working hours. Research from Germany's Institute for Labor Economics found that France, Italy, Belgium, Portugal, and Slovenia all experienced robust GDP growth between 1995 and 2007 after cutting work hours, with minimal impact on employment levels. This story offers a window into a global conversation about work-life balance and economic productivity. It challenges the assumption that longer hours automatically mean stronger economies, presenting evidence that rest and quality of life might actually enhance output. For anyone wondering whether a healthier work culture can coexist with economic vitality, Brazil's experiment—and Europe's precedent—provides a compelling case study worth watching.

A mother’s touch helps premature babies grow strong in Gaza

In the neonatal care unit at Nasser Hospital in Gaza, a new pilot programme is introducing kangaroo mother care to help vulnerable newborns survive and thrive. The practice involves extended skin-to-skin contact between mothers and their premature or low-birthweight babies, combined with exclusive breastfeeding. For Rania Fadel, who gave birth to twin boys in September, the programme offered her first chance to hold her son Ilyas after eleven days of separation—he weighed just 1.4 kilograms at birth and required intensive care for blood and lung issues. Kangaroo mother care has demonstrated significant health benefits: World Health Organization research shows it reduces neonatal mortality by 32 percent compared with conventional incubator-only care. At Nasser, nurses guide mothers through positioning their babies against bare chest for warmth, bonding, and feeding. Director of nursing Khawla al-Madhoun notes that babies in the programme gain weight faster and may leave the hospital sooner. The initiative, supported by WHO, UNICEF, and UNFPA, is being gradually introduced across the hospital's neonatal and maternity wards, with plans for a dedicated room and extended contact sessions. This story matters because it shows how a low-tech, evidence-based practice can make a meaningful difference in settings where healthcare systems face resource constraints. Beyond the medical outcomes, the programme restores something equally vital: the early connection between parent and child during a frightening, uncertain time. As Rania described the moment she finally held Ilyas, "He feels safe. Honestly, it makes me very happy."

Single mothers celebrate end of 6x1 schedule: 'I was watching my children's lives pass by'

Mães solo celebram fim da escala 6x1: 'Estava vendo a vida dos meus filhos passar'

Brazil has voted to end the controversial 6x1 work schedule—six consecutive workdays followed by a single day off—a reality for nearly 15 million formal workers in the country. For single mothers like Luciana de Almeida, a 36-year-old cashier from Rio de Janeiro, the change represents a long-awaited shift. Her daily routine has been grueling: rising at 5 a.m. to prepare her two youngest daughters for school, commuting three hours round-trip to her supermarket job, and returning home around 8 p.m., exhausted. Her one weekly day off is consumed by household chores and occasional cleaning jobs to make ends meet. After eighteen years in this rhythm, Luciana describes feeling mentally and physically drained, barely present for her children's milestones. The Senate approved the constitutional amendment 75 to 1, setting a two-phase implementation. Within 60 days of promulgation, the workweek will drop from 44 to 42 hours, and after 14 months, it will reduce further to 40 hours. For Luciana, the prospect of two days off each week feels transformative—a chance to rest, attend her daughters' school events, and actually witness their childhood rather than watch it slip by. She reflects on a recent vacation when she realized how much of their lives she'd been missing: mother's day celebrations, school festivals, simple moments at home. This story quietly captures a broader social shift, revealing how labor policy reaches into the intimate corners of family life. It's a reminder that work schedules aren't merely administrative details but forces that shape how people experience parenthood, rest, and presence—making this legislative change not just a political victory, but a deeply human one for millions navigating exhaustion and hope in equal measure.

New tool reveals siege on Indigenous lands in Bolivia’s Amazon

A sweeping new investigation has documented an alarming pattern across Bolivia's Amazonian Indigenous territories: nine out of every ten hectares of forest lost over the past two decades were cleared illegally. Between 2003 and 2023, more than 186,500 hectares—nearly three times the size of Madrid—disappeared from these protected lands, with illegal clearing accounting for over 90% of the destruction. The findings emerge from a yearlong collaboration that has produced VISTA, a new digital platform tracking deforestation, fires, land clearing, and agricultural expansion across all 48 Indigenous territories in Bolivia's Amazon basin. The investigation, led by journalists working with the Pulitzer Center, Mongabay, and Bolivian organizations, analyzed thousands of leaked government records and satellite data to reconstruct how these ancestral lands have transformed. What they found goes beyond numbers: 28 out of 30 surveyed territories reported land invasions by outsiders seeking to convert forest into farmland, particularly for large-scale soy cultivation. Indigenous leaders like Rivelino Segundo of Isoso—the territory with the most illegal clearing—emphasize that their communities are not responsible for the destruction. "We, as the Guaraní Indigenous people, coexist with nature," he told reporters, pointing to invaders as the drivers of deforestation. This story matters because it makes visible what has long been hidden. By cross-referencing eight databases and combining satellite imagery with on-the-ground reporting from Indigenous communities, the team has created a tool that turns abstract loss into documented reality. For peoples who call the forest their "casa grande"—their main house where life, memory, and spirit intertwine—these findings offer both evidence of ongoing threats and a means to defend what remains.

VIDEO shows bleached coral recovering by touching a healthy one

VÍDEO mostra coral branqueado se recuperando ao tocar um saudável

Scientists at Stanford University have discovered that bleached corals can recover their color and health in just a few weeks through simple physical contact with healthy corals. The breakthrough came from an accidental observation in a laboratory aquarium, where two coral fragments from the same colony had toppled over and touched—one bleached white, the other vibrant and healthy. Within weeks, color began returning to the bleached coral at the point of contact. The mechanism is remarkably straightforward: when the tissues of the two fragments fuse at the contact point, microalgae from the healthy coral migrate into the bleached one. These algae, which give corals their color and provide energy through photosynthesis, then multiply up to ten times faster than rates observed in natural reef environments. Coral bleaching occurs when ocean temperatures rise too high, causing corals to expel their algae partners, lose their color, and begin to starve. The phenomenon has accelerated globally, with researchers warning that mass bleaching events could become annual by 2080. Brazil experienced its first major bleaching in 2019, with subsequent events in 2024 and ongoing risks. This discovery offers a glimmer of hope for reef restoration efforts worldwide. Coral reefs support a quarter of all marine life, protect coastlines from storms, and sustain fishing industries and tourism. The finding that "bleached corals may be dying, but they're not dead yet," as lead researcher Danny Collins noted, suggests new possibilities for intervention. What makes this story quietly remarkable is its simplicity—sometimes nature's solutions require nothing more than bringing the right neighbors together.

Historic cannons airlifted for restoration

On a tidal island off the coast of Cornwall, three centuries of salt-laden sea spray finally caught up with a set of historic cannons. St Michael's Mount, a striking fortress-topped island connected to the mainland only at low tide, presented an unusual challenge: how do you move heavy artillery for restoration when there's no road access? The answer arrived in the form of a Royal Navy helicopter. A Merlin Mk2 from the 814 Naval Air Squadron, based at nearby RNAS Culdrose, carefully lifted each 300-year-old cannon off the island one by one. The operation required careful planning by the crew, balancing the weight of historic ordnance with the precision needed to preserve these weathered pieces of maritime history. The cannons are now bound for Dorothea Restorations in Bristol, where specialists will work to reverse decades of corrosion caused by their exposed position facing the Atlantic. This story offers a quiet reminder of the ongoing work required to preserve tangible links to the past. It's a moment where modern military capability meets conservation need, where a helicopter designed for contemporary naval operations becomes a gentle crane for artifacts that once defended these same waters. For anyone who appreciates the behind-the-scenes care that keeps history alive—or simply enjoys the image of careful collaboration across centuries—this small operation on a Cornish island is worth a moment's reflection.

The busy little berm garden helping feed a community

On a street in Whangārei, New Zealand, a narrow strip of leftover lawn has quietly become a lifeline for neighbors. Five years ago, Ian Page decided to transform his berm—the grassy verge between sidewalk and street—into a series of raised garden beds filled with seasonal produce. The entire harvest is free for anyone who needs it, no questions asked. As the cost of fresh vegetables continues to climb across the country, what began as one person's experiment in reclaiming wasted space has evolved into a busy community hub. Page, who grew up around keen gardeners, finds the work therapeutic rather than burdensome. He no longer needs to mow the strip, and instead spends his time tending broccoli, rhubarb, lettuce, and a lemon tree currently heavy with blossom. Neighbors stop by three or four days a week—some to harvest, others to chat or drop off seedlings to keep the garden growing. Page also sets out boxes of passionfruit, figs, and feijoas from his own backyard, fruit he could never eat on his own. After confirming he was following local rules, the council has welcomed the project wholeheartedly. This story is a quiet reminder that meaningful change often starts small. Page's garden isn't solving food insecurity on a grand scale, but it's doing something just as important: creating connection, offering dignity, and turning a forgotten sliver of land into something alive and generous. In a time when fresh food feels increasingly out of reach for many, his simple act of planting and sharing feels both practical and deeply human.

World Mushroom Day: From food to plastic replacement

Mushrooms occupy a fascinating space in our world — neither plant nor animal, they serve as the reproductive organs of fungi, distributing spores while playing vital roles in ecosystems. For World Mushroom Day on October 15, Mongabay gathered stories that reveal how these organisms are reshaping our relationship with food, materials, and the environment in unexpected ways. Several innovations highlight mushrooms' potential beyond the dinner plate. Companies are experimenting with species like the artist's conk to create sustainable alternatives to leather and plastic packaging, offering farmers additional income streams while addressing waste management challenges. Meanwhile, researchers in Nigeria have successfully cultivated a wild mushroom called Lentinus squarrosulus using sawdust, an agricultural byproduct. This edible and medicinal species, typically found on decaying logs in tropical forests, faces growing scarcity due to habitat loss. Domesticating it could provide an affordable protein source across Africa. Yet the mushroom story also carries cautionary notes: golden oyster mushrooms, prized for their bright yellow caps and earthy flavor, have spread from Asia across North American forests, where they're displacing native fungal species — a reminder that even beneficial organisms can disrupt ecosystems when introduced beyond their native range. What makes these stories quietly remarkable is how they reveal fungi as both solution and challenge, ancient organisms adapting to modern problems while reminding us of nature's delicate balance. From glowing bioluminescent species lighting up forest nights to mycelium-based materials replacing plastics, mushrooms demonstrate that answers to contemporary crises may already exist in the natural world, waiting for us to notice and learn from them with care and attention.

From paper parks to lasting protection, here’s what works in marine conservation

Marine conservation has seen a wave of ambitious commitments in recent years, from French Polynesia's protection of millions of square kilometers to multinational corridors safeguarding migratory species. Yet declaring an area protected doesn't guarantee that marine life will actually recover. The gap between policy and practice—between well-intentioned announcements and tangible results—remains one of the most persistent challenges in ocean stewardship. A review of evidence from across the Americas reveals that fully protected no-take reserves can produce significant biodiversity gains, but only when fishing restrictions are genuinely enforced. The problem is rarely a lack of technology or ecological knowledge. Surveillance tools like boats, radar, and drones are relatively easy to acquire. The harder part is ensuring that someone follows through: running patrols, gathering evidence, pursuing penalties, and sustaining the effort year after year. Adequate staffing, funding, and political will are what separate effective reserves from so-called "paper parks"—protected areas in name only. Meanwhile, conservation can also succeed outside official reserves through community-led management, secure fishing rights, and practical changes to fishing practices. Similarly, restoration efforts like replanting mangroves or corals achieve little unless the underlying threats are addressed. This story is worth a reader's time because it cuts through the headlines to reveal what actually works in marine conservation. It's a reminder that lasting protection depends not on grand declarations, but on the unglamorous, sustained work of enforcement and the commitment to addressing root causes—a lesson that applies far beyond the ocean.

RSL going bush to connect with veterans from Afghanistan

A regional RSL branch in New South Wales is finding creative ways to reach younger veterans who served in Afghanistan and Iraq — Australia's longest military conflict. This weekend, to mark 25 years since Australian troops first deployed to Afghanistan, the Bellinger River RSL is hosting a casual bush retreat where veterans and their families can fish, camp, and reconnect around the campfire at a property playfully dubbed "Chora Valley Resort." The initiative responds to a disconnect many younger veterans feel with traditional RSL communities. With approximately 30,000 Australians deployed to the Middle East between 2001 and 2021, and the youngest veterans now only in their forties, many are juggling work and family commitments that make formal meetings difficult. Josh Donnelly, a 39-year-old father of six medically discharged with PTSD, and Emma Palmer, a former military nurse and RSL sub-branch president who only recently discovered her own PTSD diagnosis, are among those who understand the need for informal spaces where veterans can share experiences without having to explain themselves. The story quietly illustrates how community support is evolving to meet people where they are — not in meeting halls, but in settings that feel natural and comfortable. It's a reminder that healing and connection don't always require formal structures, and that sometimes the most meaningful support comes from simply sitting together around a fire with people who understand what you've been through. The families are included too, recognizing that the impact of war extends beyond those who served.

Dog that hunts invasive 'sea vomit' honoured as animal of the year

A black Labrador named Sgiath has been honored as animal of the year for her remarkable work tracking down an invasive marine species along Scotland's coast. Working alongside her owner, marine ecologist Dr. Texa Sim, the six-year-old dog uses her exceptional sense of smell to locate colonies of carpet sea squirt—a creature nicknamed "sea vomit" that threatens native marine life and coastal economies. The invasive organism, which arrived in the UK from Japan in 2008, smothers native species and clogs marine infrastructure, costing millions annually in cleanup efforts across Europe. What makes Sgiath particularly impressive is her versatility. Originally trained as a mountain rescue dog, she learned to apply her scent-detection skills to marine conservation through patient training with Dr. Sim. At low tide, Sgiath searches beaches and investigates beneath seaweed, using what trainers call a "passive indication"—a quiet freeze or stare—to signal her finds. This differs from her mountain rescue work, where she barks and bounces to alert others to lost hikers. The carpet sea squirt can be difficult for humans to spot, resembling slime among seaweed on pontoons and oyster cages, but Sgiath's nose never misses it. This story offers a heartening example of how traditional working dog skills can be adapted to address emerging environmental challenges. As warming seas threaten to expand the range of invasive species, Sgiath represents an innovative, low-tech solution that combines the ancient bond between humans and dogs with cutting-edge conservation needs—proof that sometimes the best answer to a modern problem has four legs and a wagging tail.