As pulsating rave music boomed out of speakers set up outside Seoul’s National Assembly, the protesters cheered and waved multicoloured light sticks.

“Impeach Yoon Suk Yeol! Arrest Yoon Suk Yeol!” they chanted.

The mood was festive, but the crowd was there for a serious cause – to get rid of the country’s president.

On Saturday morning, four days after Yoon’s abortive attempt to declare martial law, the president once again appeared on television. This time it was to say sorry to the nation, just hours before an impeachment vote.

But his mea culpa did little to appease the public. As lawmakers began making their way to the national assembly, various protest rallies started up across Seoul. While a few were in support of the embattled president, most were calling on him to step down or to be impeached.

• South Korean president survives impeachment vote
• Six hours that shook South Korea

By 3pm, most of the protesters had converged in front of the National Assembly. The main thoroughfare was packed with people sitting in neat rows, as police officers lined the street.

Protest flags fluttered in the cold winter breeze, while in the side streets vendors sold waffles and pastries stuffed with red-bean paste to hungry protesters.

It was a diverse crowd made up of young students, office workers and retirees. Police estimated around 100,000 people showed up.

With rock bands, large screens and crane cameras, South Korean protest rallies tend to resemble outdoor music festivals, and this one was no different. Throughout the afternoon, the crowd was entertained by jolly acapella tunes, sentimental folk songs, and protest anthems.

The crowd sang along to South Korea is a Democratic Republic – a catchy children’s song extolling the virtues of democracy; the stirring A March Song for You; and even the Korean version of Do You Hear the People Sing from the musical Les Miserables.

There were also fiery speeches. “We must wipe out the traitors! If the impeachment vote fails, all 1.5 million members of our union will run straight to the presidential office,” vowed one union leader.

“The traitors will be judged by the sharpened blade of the people!”

“Impeach! Impeach!” the crowd chanted back.

But as the winter light faded into night, so did the hopes of the protesters.

When it was time to vote on the impeachment bill, the ruling People Power Party (PPP) announced a boycott, stymying the opposition which lacked just eight votes to pass the bill.

Almost every PPP lawmaker got up from their seats and left the chamber, as members of the opposition shouted and tried to prevent them from leaving.

Watching these chaotic proceedings unfold on the screens outside, many of the protesters were aghast.

“The freedom of democracy is crumbling because of just one man. It’s killing me,” lamented office worker Choi Eun-chong.

“I think the lawmakers are irresponsible,” said freelance writer Park Ga-ram.

She had left her home in the southern city of Daegu at 5am and travelled for hours to Seoul, just to take part in the protest. “I was waiting all day for this. I hope they go back and vote. I’m trying to stay hopeful but I don’t expect it to happen.”

Others were angrier. “I think Yoon’s a total disgrace for democracy in this country. And the lawmakers, they should represent the people, not the president… we’re very upset,” said activist Luke Kim.

“We are not going to back down until he is impeached… we will march on until our democracy finally triumphs over this madness done by this crazy president.”

Onstage, the protest leaders called on the crowd to surround the National Assembly. They hoped that by blocking the gates and trapping PPP lawmakers inside, they could buy the opposition enough time to persuade enough PPP members to vote for impeachment.

The crowd surged forward to the gates. As protest leaders read out the names of every PPP lawmaker, protesters chanted “Go back in, vote!” after each name.

The mood lifted when PPP member Kim Sang-wook re-entered the chamber to vote, joining two others from his party who had stayed on. Hope rippled through the crowd, as protesters cheered and chanted Kim’s name like he was a rock star.

Organisers blasted K-pop, and the crowd started dancing, singing and waving light sticks. Some did a Mexican wave to a Girls Generation song. Suddenly, the protest transformed into a joyful pop concert.

For a while, the mood remained ebullient. Protesters believed more from the ruling party would cross the floor by the deadline of 1am.

But there were ominous signs. Kim told reporters that he had in fact voted against impeachment. And for hours, nobody else from the PPP joined.

Finally, at about 9pm, the Speaker said he would close the vote early. Immediately, the festive mood evaporated. The impeachment bill needed just five more votes to proceed, but they were nowhere in sight – and time was running out.

The crowd pressed closer to the gates. “Go in, go in!” they pleaded, urging PPP lawmakers to re-enter the chamber to vote.

At 9.20pm, the speaker closed the vote. The crowd went silent as they watched parliamentary officials sift through the ballots.

Some let out disappointed groans, while a few screamed angrily at the screens. The usual chant of “impeach, impeach” floated through the air, but it seemed to have lost its vigour.

The speaker announced the bill could not pass. It did not meet the quorum of 200 votes for counting. In the crowd, a woman let out a pained cry and buried her face in her partner’s chest, sobbing.

The protest leaders rushed to the stage, this time to rally people’s spirits.

“We will not stop until Yoon is punished. The people will not accept the existence of PPP. We will fight till the end, till Yoon is impeached,” vowed one speaker. “Dear people, will you join us in our fight to remove Yoon?”

The crowd roared back emphatically: “Yes!”

Meanwhile, inside the National Assembly, opposition leaders vowed to table the impeachment bill again and again until they got rid of Yoon. They have the public on their side: three quarters of South Koreans want an impeachment, according to the latest polls, while Yoon’s approval rating has slid even further to just 13%.

In an attempt to end on a high note, the protest leaders played All I Want for Christmas as a send-off. “Don’t forget your belongings, and please take your rubbish with you,” they urged the dispersing crowd, as Mariah Carey’s voice echoed down the rapidly emptying avenue.

It won’t be long till that road will fill up again. Another round of protests has already been scheduled for Sunday.

Lawmakers in South Korea have narrowly failed to impeach the nation’s president over his short-lived attempt to declare martial law.

A bill to censure Yoon Suk Yeol fell five votes short of the 200 needed to pass, with many members of parliament in the ruling People Power Party (PPP) boycotting the vote.

The South Korean premier sparked widespread shock and anger when he declared military rule – associated with authoritarianism in the country – on Tuesday, in a bid to break out of a political stalemate.

Yoon’s declaration was quickly overturned by parliament, before his government rescinded it a few hours later in the midst of large protests.

• As it happened: South Korea’s impeachment vote
• Why did South Korea’s president declare martial law?
• Six hours that shook South Korea

The impeachment bill needed a two-thirds majority in the National Assembly to pass, meaning at least eight PPP MPs would have to vote in favour.

However, all but three walked out of the chamber earlier on Saturday.

One of those who remained, Cho Kyung-tae, credited Yoon’s apology for the martial law decree on Saturday morning – after three days out of public view – as having influenced his decision not to back impeachment this time.

“The president’s apology and his willingness to step down early, as well as delegating all political agendas to the party, did have an impact on my decision,” he told the BBC ahead of the vote.

Cho said he believed impeachment would hand the presidency to the leader of the Democratic Party of Korea (DPK), Lee Jae-myung.

He added that Yoon’s “irrational and absurd decision” to declare martial law had “overshadowed” what he described as the DPK’s “many extreme actions” while in power.

DPK lawmaker Lee Unjoo told the BBC that she had cried when PPP politicians walked out.

“We did know there was a possibility they might boycott the vote, but we didn’t believe they would actually go through with it when tens of thousands of citizens were watching right outside,” she said.

Following Saturday’s vote, Lee insisted his party “will not give up” with its attempts to impeach Yoon, who he said had become “the worst risk” to South Korea.

“We will definitely return this country to normal by Christmas and the end of the year,” he told a crowd gathered outside the parliament in the capital, Seoul.

Prior to Tuesday, martial law – temporary rule by military authorities in a time of emergency, during which civil rights are usually curtailed – had not been declared in South Korea since before it became a parliamentary democracy in 1987.

Yoon claimed the measures were needed to defeat “anti-state forces” in the parliament and referred to North Korea.

But others saw the move as an extreme reaction to the political stalemate that had arisen since the DPK won a landslide in April, reducing his government to vetoing the bills it passed, as well as Yoon’s increasing unpopularity in the wake of a scandal surrounding the First Lady.

The president’s late-night address caused dramatic scenes at the National Assembly, with protesters descending en masse as military personnel attempted to block entry to the building.

Lawmakers tussled with the soldiers, with 190 MPs making it into the building to vote down the order.

In the early hours of Wednesday morning, Yoon’s cabinet rescinded the martial law declaration.

However, the short-lived military takeover has seen daily protests on the streets. Some came out in support of Yoon, though they were drowned out by angry mobs.

Authorities have since revealed more about the events of Tuesday night.

The commander charged with the military takeover said he had learned of the decree on TV along with everyone else in the country.

He said he had refused to make his troops arrest lawmakers inside parliament, and did not give them live ammunition rounds.

The National Intelligence Service later confirmed rumours that Yoon had ordered the arrest and interrogation of his political rivals – and even some of his supposed political allies, such as his own party leader Han Dong-hoon.

These revelations saw some members of Yoon’s own party signal their support for impeachment.

The president’s apology on Saturday morning appeared to be a last-ditch effort to shore up support.

He said the martial law declaration had been made out of “desperation” and pledged he would not make another.

Yoon did not offer to resign, but said he would leave decisions on how to stabilise the country to his party.

Were he to be impeached, it would not be unprecedented. In 2016, then-President Park Geun-hye was impeached after being accused of helping a friend commit extortion.

If South Korea’s parliament passes an impeachment bill, a trial would be held by a constitutional court. Two-thirds of that court would have to sustain the majority for him to be removed permanently from office.

The Prince of Wales met US President-elect Donald Trump while visiting France for the ceremonial reopening of Notre-Dame cathedral.

Prince William joined other world leaders in Paris to mark the restoration of the world-famous landmark, which was devastated by a fire five years ago.

After shaking hands at the ceremony, the pair also met afterwards, with the president-elect describing the prince as a “good man” doing a “fantastic job”.

During the event, French President Emmanuel Macron delivered a speech in which he said of the restoration: “We must treasure this lesson of fragility, humility and will”.

• LIVE UPDATES: Trump and Prince William attend Notre-Dame reopening in Paris

Other leaders and dignitaries at the event included Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky and outgoing US First Lady Dr Jill Biden, who was representing President Joe Biden.

Prince William was expected to discuss the importance of the US-UK “special relationship” with both Trump and the first lady during their respective meetings.

Greeting the prince at the ceremony, Trump gave William a pat on the shoulder before the two shook hands and spoke for a few seconds.

He last met Trump in 2019 when the then-president made a state visit to the UK.

Prince William, who attended at the request of the UK government, joined French President Emmanuel Macron and dozens of other heads of state at the ceremony on Saturday.

William and Trump met at the residence of the British ambassador in Paris.

The prince was standing in the foyer when Trump arrived. The pair shook hands and greeted one another again, before Trump gestured to the Prince of Wales and said: “Good man, this one”.

Prince William asked the president-elect if he had warmed up, and Trump replied that he had and that “it was a beautiful ceremony”.

Kensington Palace has described the meeting between as “warm and friendly.”

During their 40 minutes together, William and Trump discussed a range of global issues but focused on the importance of the UK/US special relationship.

The president-elect also shared some warm and fond memories of the late Queen for which the prince was said to be “extremely grateful.”

William had also been due to meet Trump and Dr Biden earlier in the day but Kensington Palace said he had been delayed by weather on his journey from the UK to France.

At the ceremony, The Archbishop of Paris Laurent Ulrich led more than 1,500 guests through the reopening service.

A choir sang out as Macron took his seat next to Trump. A message from the Pope was read aloud before the French president delivered his address.

Parts of the event had to be reconfigured due to the stormy weather – with a concert that was due to take place on the esplanade actually being staged on Friday.

The prince’s last official trip to Paris was in 2017, when he visited with the Princess of Wales for a two-day trip in the aftermath of the Brexit result.

He joined other world leaders in Normandy earlier this year for the 80th anniversary commemorations of the Second World War D-Day landings.

The medieval cathedral has been closed since a major fire tore through it in 2019, destroying its wooden interiors before toppling its spire.

Some 600 firefighters battled the blaze for 15 hours. The main structure of the 850-year-old building was saved, including its two bell towers.

Macron set a five-year goal for the reconstruction of the Catholic church shortly after the fire.

An estimated 2,000 masons, carpenters, restorers, roofers, foundry-workers, art experts, sculptors and engineers worked on the project, which reportedly cost €700m (£582m).

Tickets for the first week of Masses in the cathedral sold out in 25 minutes, the cathedral’s rector said.

Prince William has been scrambled, like in his old air ambulance days, to rush to this meeting in Paris with President-elect Donald Trump.

Although what’s in need of rescue on this occasion is the well-being of the special relationship between the US and the UK.

It’s an important connection for both sides – and for wider military links such as Nato – but there’s not a lot of obvious empathy between Starmer’s Labour government and the incoming Republicans.

So the royals, who are funded by taxpayers, are being deployed to smooth the path, with Prince William taking on the statesman role, meeting Trump before attending the reopening of the Notre Dame cathedral.

Trump is a royal fan, so that might make for a more positive connection. Prince William last met Trump in 2019, during the then-president’s visit to the UK, where Trump spoke very enthusiastically about his meeting with the late Queen Elizabeth II.

But there’s a massive contrast in their styles. Prince William’s flagship project is his Earthshot environmental awards, while Trump has dismissed efforts to boost green energy as a “scam”.

This week Prince William went to serve dinner at the Passage homelessness charity and on Friday night he was helping with a “kindness tree” outside Westminster Abbey.

A kindness tree and campaigning on housing and climate-change aren’t exactly the ‘Make America Great Again’ style.

But the aim of this hurriedly-arranged meeting will be for a royal charm offensive to help build bridges at an uncertain time for western alliances.

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This weekend will be a bittersweet goodbye for Taylor Swift and her fans.

When she plays the final notes of Karma in Vancouver on Sunday night, the Eras Tour will be over, forever.

First announced in November 2022, it’s been even bigger than Swift could have wildest-dreamed – with 149 shows in 53 cities seen by 10.1 million fans.

Along the way, it hoovered up $2bn in ticket sales, stimulated local economies and triggered seismic events.

Swift has called it “the most exhausting, all-encompassing, but most joyful, most rewarding, most wonderful thing that has ever happened” in her life.

Writing in her recently-published tour book, Swift said the 45-song, career-spanning setlist was inspired by the decision to re-record her first six albums, which made her fall “back in love” with her past work.

She went on to play concerts in “the pouring rain, in the blazing heat, in the thickest of humidity, in the wildest of winds and in the bitter cold,” she wrote, even when she was “sick or exhausted or injured,” or working through a “broken heart”.

But the concerts were about more than the music. Fans swapped friendship bracelets and made lifelong friends with strangers. Outside the stadiums, ticketless Swifties gathered in car parks to sing along.

At one show in Munich, 40,000 people congregated on a nearby hill just to catch a glimpse of the show, almost outnumbering the fans inside the city’s former Olympic Stadium.

For many, the chance to hear these songs live for the first time was overwhelming.

“I did a lot more weeping than I expected,” says Chvrches singer Lauren Mayberry, who first saw the tour in Santa Clara last year.

“I wept at the start, just because it was exciting. Obviously I wept during [epic break-up ballad] All Too Well. Then I cried in The Archer. Don’t know why.”

Online, the faithful watched nightly livestreams and downloaded a free, fan-run app – SwiftAlert – that allowed them to speculate on the outfits Swift might wear, and the surprise songs she might play in her nightly acoustic set. Those at the top of the leaderboard would win prizes.

There’s an unparalleled sense of community around the gigs. When I took my daughter to one of the Wembley Stadium gigs in June, taller people moved back to give her a better view – something I’ve rarely seen in years of concert-going.

For other families, the Eras Tour has even brought them closer together.

• Why is Taylor Swift so big? ‘She wants it more than anyone’
• Eras Tour review: Pop’s heartbreak princess dazzles in Edinburgh

Michelle, from Seattle, Washington, is attending one of the final concerts in Vancouver with her daughter this weekend, and says the anticipation has helped them stay in touch.

“I got the tickets almost 13 months ago, and even though she doesn’t live at home full time, I doubt even a week has gone by where we’ve not had a fun conversation about Taylor, and spoke about looking forward to the show, and what our plans for the weekend may entail,” she says.

The conclusion of the tour leaves Swift at a crossroads. This Eras Tour will be the yardstick against which the rest of her career will be measured – and her next move will be watched closely by fans and critics alike.

So what options does she have?

“Taylor is a very future-minded thinker, so I imagine she has the next few years already completely planned out.” says Bryan West, a dedicated Taylor Swift reporter for USA Today and The Tennessean, who has seen the Eras tour 89 times.

Noting Swift’s tendency to dovetail her projects, he thinks there will be some sort of “news-making” announcement at her final show.

Most likely, this will be the reveal of Reputation (Taylor’s Version) – the latest instalment of her re-recorded album series, complete with bonus tracks from the vault.

That said, fans have been anticipating that announcement all year and the album is yet to materialise, despite numerous, tantalising hints it’s on its way.

West has some other theories, too.

“We’ve seen film crews at many of the gigs, so I’d not be shocked if she’s been shooting a documentary this entire time.

“And in her new book, she said, ‘See you next era’, so there have been reports that she’s working on new music.”

A longer term prospect is that Swift will pivot to film. In December 2022, she signed a deal to direct a film for Searchlight Pictures, based on her own original script.

Making the announcement, Searchlight presidents David Greenbaum and Matthew Greenfield called her “a once in a generation artist and storyteller”, but the trail has gone cold since then. Perhaps she’ll return to the director’s chair in 2025?

West has also tracked several trademarks filed by the star this year, including Taylor-Con and Female Rage: The Musical “which could be anything from a television show to a documentary series to a Broadway production”.

But maybe we’re expecting too much?

“She needs to take some time off, first and foremost,” says Jack Saunders, host of Radio 1’s New Music Show, “because it’s completely unrealistic to expect a human being to operate at the performance level that she has been doing for the last couple of years and dive straight back in.

“We’ve heard a lot from Taylor – so it’s healthy for us and it’s healthy for her to step back and take some time away, so that she can fuel herself for whatever’s next.”

Indeed, Swift has hinted she’s tiring of the music industry grind.

Clara Bow, a track from her latest album The Tortured Poets Department, is a barbed commentary on the industry’s lust for new blood.

Other songs find her daydreaming about wedding rings and “pushin’ strollers” – so there’s every possibility Swift will take a year off to focus on her romance with American football star Travis Kelce.

“She probably will take a break,” says West, “but she’s not one that necessarily sits still. She’s always creating. She’s always coming up with new projects.”

If Swift does head back to the studio, singer-songwriter Self Esteem hopes she’ll spend the cultural (and financial) capital she’s built up over the last two years to do something unexpected.

“If I was her, I’d indulge myself in making music in all the different genres and styles I hadn’t been able to explore because of branding and expectations,” she says.

“And it sounds really worthy, but I can’t wait until I have enough money to fund working class people who can’t get access to music – so if I was her, I’d do that.”

(It’s worth noting that Swift has a history of charitable giving, including donations to local foodbanks on every stop of the Eras tour).

Whatever happens, a left-hand swerve makes sense; in her Eras Tour book, the star says she “hates to do the same thing twice”.

But for this weekend, Michelle just wants to savour the final moments of a one-off phenomenon.

“We love concerts in my family. I love the buzz of being in a whole crowd of people excited about the same thing,” she says, “but this feels different.

“I love how the tour has brought people all over the world together.

“It will certainly be interesting to see what her next move is,” she adds, “but I can’t bring myself to speculate.

“I’ll just wait and see – because, whatever she does next, Taylor and her team should be very proud of the joy that was brought to so many during the Eras Tour run.”

The mood in Damascus appears to be one of confusion and fear, with many people unable to find out exactly what is going on as rebel factions approach ever closer.

In several suburbs, symbols of the power of the Assad dynasty have been torn down or toppled.

The interior ministry says it’s creating a ring of steel around the capital. But government forces have notably failed to provide any such defence in cities, towns and villages that have fallen to rebel factions across the country.

Rumours are swirling over the whereabouts of President Bashar al-Assad, with people logging flights in and out of Damascus to work out whether he might have left.

His office has denied all such reports, saying he’s still at work in Damascus, but there has been no sign of him.

Syria has remained a divided country, with the deep scars of the years of civil war unhealed, despite the apparent stalemate and status quo that had been in place for around four years until just a week-and-a-half ago.

Assad’s pariah status had come to an end among his fellow Arab leaders, but no progress had been made within Syria towards building a viable future for its people in the aftermath of war.

But the presence of President Assad had seemed to be a seal, however unsatisfactory, on the deadly conflict that had raged for years.

If he is now out of the picture, a power vacuum will re-emerge, with no clear indication of how it will be filled. There is no unified opposition that is in place to take over. The rebel factions have a history of division and internecine fighting.

The group that has spearheaded the new uprising against President Assad has its foundation in the extremism of Al Qaeda. Its leader has tried to reassure other communities in Syria that it will not impose its ideology on them, but they remain understandably apprehensive of what might come.

There will be wider fears that Syria could plunge into an even more calamitous state, with various factions battling each other for control. In an already desperately unstable and volatile region, that could feed more dangerous unrest.

But for now at least, many Syrians both inside and outside the county are united by a hope that many felt they might never experience again – that they might be able to return to their homes, long lost in the bitter war that Assad’s violent repression of protest and dissent originally triggered.

“Daya, darwaaza tod do.” (Daya, break down the door)

Most Indians will instantly recognise this dialogue from the popular detective show CID, which ran from 1998 to 2018, making it one of India’s longest-running television shows.

The whodunnit featured three intrepid policemen – ACP Pradyuman, inspector Daya and inspector Abhijeet – solving case after case, as no criminal was ever a match for them. The low-budget episodes had comically simple plots, iffy acting, and all it took for a suspect to confess was a good slap from ACP Pradyuman.

But over the years, the show has achieved cult status, and its characters and dialogues have spawned a wealth of jokes, memes and reels.

CID is set to return later this month, sparking mixed reactions among its fans. Some are eager to see the three policemen back in action but others say that the show’s old-world charm might not fit in with the gritty realism of modern-day crime shows.

Over the past few days, the creators of the show have been releasing teasers for upcoming episodes on Instagram, each garnering hundreds of thousands of likes and comments.

Apart from the three main characters, the teasers feature familiar tropes and dialogues. These include Inspector Daya kicking open doors to reveal a suspect’s hideout and ACP Pradyuman muttering his iconic line, ‘kuch toh gadbad hai, Daya’ (something’s not right, Daya), signaling to both his team and the audience that a crime has taken place.

Trisha Shah, 35, a content creator from Mumbai and a fan of the show, says that the teasers make her nostalgic.

“CID was one of the few crime shows on television back then and my parents didn’t mind me watching it because of its family-friendly content,” Ms Shah says.

“Despite being a crime show, it never showed gruesome violence, sexual crimes, foul language or anything that was not suitable for family viewing.”

In an interview to Film Companion, an entertainment journalism platform, one of the writers of the show said that they even avoided giving surnames to the characters to avoid hurting anyone’s sentiments.

But the show’s outlandish plots more than made up for its primness, whether that was ACP Pradyuman coming back from the dead or inspector Daya single-handedly manoeuvring a poison-gas filled plane to safety.

In an interview to Forbes magazine, the producer of the show, BP Singh, described these scenes and plots as “believable nonsense”.

“You may later laugh at it [the scene]. But for those five minutes, it is so engrossing that you don’t mind it,” he told the magazine.

In a rather comical fashion, the characters would also explain plots and technologies used to solve crimes through their dialogues, making it easy for even children to grasp what was happening.

“The bad guys always got caught and that was comforting to watch,” Ms Shah says. “I don’t think I’ll enjoy the show today, but back then, it was a big deal.”

In the 1990s, TV was a big deal as it was the only form of home entertainment. At the start of the decade, India eased broadcasting rights, making more channels available.

“Initially, channels like Star began showing reruns of American shows like Baywatch and The Bold and The Beautiful. But new entrants like Zee TV and Sony began producing original shows to cater to the Indian audience,” says Harsh Taneja, an associate professor of media at University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign.

Producers often adapted Western shows for Indian audiences by importing format Bibles – guidelines outlining story structure – and modifying them for local context, he says. So, a show like CID often featured plots that closely resembled those of CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, an American crime drama.

The 1990s and 2000s saw television become a staple in households as people’s spending power grew. Many homes had not just one but two televisions, leading producers to create content targeting different age groups, says Mr Taneja.

Interestingly, the target audience of CID, when it was released in the 1990s, was children in the age group of six to 14. After CID, several other crime-focussed shows began to populate channels – from Crime Patrol to Savadhan India. But one could say that it was CID that created an appetite for crime shows among viewers.

Priya Ravi, 40, remembers waiting eagerly for each CID episode to air when she was a child. She confesses that it was the show that made her push her parents to get a television set at their home.

“Episodes used to air twice a week, and initially I used to go to a friend’s place to watch them. But then I convinced my parents to get a TV so that I could watch the episodes at home. I was so happy the day the TV arrived,” Ms Ravi says.

She says that though she won’t watch the new CID episodes, she’ll definitely encourage her two children, aged seven and nine, to watch them.

“If the show remains as clean as it was back in the day, I think it’s a great way to introduce children to some of the realities of life and make them vigilant about their safety and surroundings,” she says.

“I’m looking forward to the heroic trio making a comeback.”

At least five people have died and four others injured after explosions rocked a block of flats in The Hague in the Netherlands, authorities have said.

Firefighters rushed to the three-storey building following the blasts that caused the collapse of several homes in the Tarwekamp area at around 06:15 (05:15 GMT) on Saturday.

The city’s mayor, Jan van Zanen, said it was unknown how many people were still missing.

The cause of the explosions is not yet clear, but Dutch police said a car drove away “at very high speed” shortly after, and have appealed for witnesses.

Van Zanen said the chance of survivors being pulled from the rubble was slim, and urged the community to prepare for a “worst case scenario”.

It was earlier thought up to 20 people may have been in the flats at the time of the blast, but the mayor refused to speculate on this.

The Dutch fire service said five people are confirmed dead.

Dutch media reported five flats were destroyed in the explosion.

Rescue teams with sniffer dogs have been deployed to sift through the debris, but parts of the site remain too dangerous to access.

A large excavator has been brought in to remove debris and lighting erected at the site.

Fourteen-year-old Adam Muller told the AFP news agency the explosion “felt like an earthquake”.

“I was asleep and suddenly there was this huge bang,” he said.

“I looked out of the window and just saw flames. It’s a massive shock,” he added.

National police commissioner in the Netherlands Janny Knol said there was “disbelief and uncertainty” in the community.

Dutch King Willem-Alexander and Queen Máxima said in a statement: “We sympathise with all those who have been personally affected or who fear for the fate of their loved ones.”

The “brazen and targeted” killing of health insurance executive Brian Thompson, CEO of UnitedHealthcare, outside a New York hotel this week shocked America. The reaction to the crime also exposed a simmering rage against a trillion-dollar industry.

“Prior authorisation” does not seem like a phrase that would generate much passion.

But on a hot day this past July, more than 100 people gathered outside the Minnesota headquarters of UnitedHealthcare to protest against the insurance firm’s policies and denial of patient claims.

“Prior authorisation” allows companies to review suggested treatments before agreeing to pay for them.

Eleven people were arrested for blocking a road during the protest.

Police records indicate they came from around the country, including Maine, New York, Texas and West Virginia, to the rally organised by the People’s Action Institute.

Unai Montes-Irueste, media strategy director of the Chicago-based advocacy group, said those protesting had personal experience with denied claims and other problems with the healthcare system.

“They are denied care, then they have to go through an appeals process that’s incredibly difficult to win,” he told the BBC.

The latent anger felt by many Americans at the healthcare system – a dizzying array of providers, for profit and not-for-profit companies, insurance giants, and government programmes – burst into the open following the apparent targeted killing of Thompson in New York City on Wednesday.

Thompson was the CEO of UnitedHealthcare, the insurance unit of health services provider UnitedHealth Group. The company is the largest insurer in the US.

Police are still on the hunt for the suspected killer, whose motivation is unknown, but authorities have revealed messages written on shell casings found at the scene.

The words “deny”, “defend”, and “depose” were discovered on the casings, which investigators believe could refer to tactics which critics say insurance companies use to avoid payouts and to increase profits.

A scroll through Thompson’s LinkedIn history reveals that many were angry about denied claims.

One woman responded to a post the executive had made boasting of his firm’s work on making drugs more affordable.

“I have stage 4 metastatic lung cancer,” she wrote. “We’ve just left [UnitedHealthcare] because of all the denials for my meds. Every month there is a different reason for the denial.”

Thompson’s wife told US broadcaster NBC that he had received threatening messages before.

“There had been some threats,” Paulette Thompson said. “Basically, I don’t know, a lack of [medical] coverage? I don’t know details.”

“I just know that he said there were some people that had been threatening him.”

A security expert says that frustration at high costs across a range of industries inevitably results in threats against corporate leaders.

Philip Klein, who runs the Texas-based Klein Investigations, which protected Thompson when he gave a speech in the early 2000s, says that he’s astonished the executive didn’t have security for his trip to New York City.

“There’s lot of anger in the United States of America right now,” Mr Klein said.

“Companies need to wake up and realise that their executives could be hunted down anywhere.”

Mr Klein says he’s been inundated with calls since Thompson was killed. Top US firms typically spend millions of dollars on personal security for high-level executives.

In the wake of the shooting, a number of politicians and industry officials expressed shock and sympathy.

Michael Tuffin, president of insurance industry organistion Ahip, said he was “heartbroken and horrified by the loss of my friend Brian Thompson”.

“He was a devoted father, a good friend to many and a refreshingly candid colleague and leader.”

In a statement, UnitedHealth Group said it had received many messages of support from “patients, consumers, health care professionals, associations, government officials and other caring people”.

But online many people, including UnitedHealthcare customers and users of other insurance services, reacted differently.

Those reactions ranged from acerbic jokes (one common quip was “thoughts and prior authorisations”, a play on the phrase “thoughts and prayers”) to commentary on the number of insurance claims rejected by UnitedHealthcare and other firms.

At the extreme end, critics of the industry pointedly said they had no pity for Thompson. Some even celebrated his death.

The online anger seemed to bridge the political divide.

Animosity was expressed from avowed socialists to right-wing activists suspicious of the so-called “deep state” and corporate power. It also came from ordinary people sharing stories about insurance firms denying their claims for medical treatments.

Mr Montes-Irueste of People’s Action said he was shocked by the news of the killing.

He said his group campaigned in a “nonviolent, democratic” way – but he added he understood the bitterness online.

“We have a balkanised and broken healthcare system, which is why there are very strong feelings being expressed right now by folks who are experiencing that broken system in various different ways,” he said.

Mr Tuffin, head of the health insurance trade association, condemned any threats made against his colleagues, describing them as “mission-driven professionals working to make coverage and care as affordable as possible”.

The posts underlined the deep frustration many Americans feel towards health insurers and the system in general.

“The system is incredibly complicated,” said Sara Collins, a senior scholar at The Commonwealth Fund, a healthcare research foundation.

“Just navigating and understanding how you get covered can be challenging for people,” she said. “And everything might seem fine until you get sick and need your plan.”

Recent Commonwealth Fund research found that 45% of insured working-age adults were charged for something they thought should have been free or covered by insurance, and less than half of those who reported suspected billing errors challenged them. And 17% of respondents said their insurer denied coverage for care that was recommended by their doctor.

Not only is the US health system complicated, it’s expensive, and huge costs can often fall directly on individuals.

Prices are negotiated between providers and insurers, Ms Collins says, meaning that what’s charged to patients or insurance companies often bears little resemblance to the actual costs of providing medical services.

“We find high rates of people saying that their healthcare costs are unaffordable, across all insurance types, even (government-funded) Medicaid and Medicare,” she said.

“People accumulate medical debt because they can’t pay their bills. This is unique to the United States. We truly have a medical debt crisis.”

A survey by researchers at health policy foundation KFF found that around two-thirds of Americans said insurance companies deserve “a lot” of blame for high healthcare costs. Most insured adults, 81%, still rated their health insurance as “excellent” or “good”.

Christine Eibner, a senior economist at the nonprofit think tank the RAND Corporation, said that in recent years insurers have been increasingly issuing denials for treatment coverage and making use of prior authorisations to decline coverage.

She said premiums are about $25,000 (£19,600) per family.

“On top of that, people face out-of-pocket costs, which could easily be in the thousands of dollars,” she said.

UnitedHealthcare and other insurance providers have faced lawsuits, media investigations and government probes over their practices.

Last year, UnitedHealthcare settled a lawsuit brought by a chronically ill college student whose story was covered by news site ProPublica, which says he was saddled with $800,000 of medical bills when his doctor-prescribed drugs were denied.

The company is currently fighting a class-action lawsuit that claims it uses artificial intelligence to end treatments early.

The BBC has contacted UnitedHealth Group for comment.

Votes are being counted after Saturday’s general election in Ghana, following a voting process that was largely peaceful except for a fatal shooting in the north of the country.

Police said four men were arrested at a polling station in the town of Nyankpala, where an opposition MP candidate had attempted to file a complaint but was stopped by ruling party supporters.

Soldiers have since been sent to Nyankpala in armoured vehicles to restore calm.

Elsewhere election day has been peacefully conducted, with some Ghanaians queuing before dawn to make sure they cast their ballots.

• What an accountant-turned-mechanic says about Ghana’s election
• One shot dead on election day

Polling centres officially closed at 17:00 GMT, and election results are expected to be announced on Tuesday.

Ghana’s land borders have been closed until Sunday evening, in a move that correspondents describe as unusual.

The West African nation is guaranteed a new president as Nana Akufo-Addo steps down after reaching the official limit of two terms in office.

But he could be replaced with a familiar face, if former President John Mahama succeeds in his comeback attempt for the NDC party.

His main challenger is expected to be Vice-President Mahamudu Bawumia, who would become the country’s first Muslim leader if he wins for the governing NPP party.

Other candidates include Nana Kwame Bediako, a businessman popular with young voters and Alan Kyerematen, who defected from the ruling NPP party last year.

Close to 19 million Ghanaians are registered to vote.

Despite Ghana recently bringing in tougher legislation to drive up the numbers of women in frontline politics, only one woman is in the running to become president – Nana Akosua Sarpong Frimpomaa of the Convention People’s Party (CPP).

The only other female presidential candidate in this election – Akua Donkor of the Ghana Freedom Party – died in October. Yet her name will still be listed on ballot papers because the candidate chosen to succeed her was disqualified.

Saturday’s general election also sees voters in 275 constituencies across the country choosing their members of parliament.

Since the return of multi-party politics to Ghana in 1992, only candidates from either the National Democratic Congress (NDC) or the governing New Patriotic Party (NPP) have won the presidency.

No party has ever won more than two consecutive terms in power.

In order to win in the first round, a presidential candidate must gain more than 50% of the vote. Failing that, the top two contenders will enter a run-off vote to take place by the end of December.

Voting for the first time, 18-year-old Serwaa Yeboah Joshebeth told the BBC “it is important for you to vote to choose the best for your country”.

The recent graduate wants to see more job opportunities, “not for me alone but for others who need them [too].”

Kojo Yeboah, 95, agrees.

“The next leader must focus on education and jobs for the youth,” the retired university worker told the BBC outside a polling booth in the city of Kumasi.

“I benefit from stipends from the state at my age already,” he adds.

As campaigns came to a close on Friday, Bawumia said of his main rival: “What is clear is that notwithstanding the challenges we’ve had, we have performed better than the government of John Dramani Mahama.”

While Mahama told supporters “it is a choice between the Ghana we have today and the Ghana we want together. A Ghana of opportunity, prosperity, and justice for all.”

Ghanaians have been hit particularly hard by inflation in recent years, which reached a peak of 54.1% in 2022. Although it has since come down, many thousands of people have been pushed into poverty and living standards have suffered, says the World Bank.

That same year, Ghana defaulted on its debt repayments and the government is still in lengthy negotiations with international lenders to try and restructure the loans.

Unemployment is also at a high – particularly among the young, whose views could have a big impact on the outcome of the election.

• EXPLAINER: What’s at stake in Ghana’s elections?
• CHARTS: What’s on the minds of voters?
• PROFILE: Who is John Mahama?
• PROFILE: Who is Mahamudu Bawumia?
• IN BRIEF: Ghana – a basic guide

As 2024 draws to a close, and winter arrives, Russian forces are continuing to push their Ukrainian opponents back.

In total, Russia has captured and retaken about 2,350 sq km of territory (907 sq miles) in eastern Ukraine and in Russia’s western Kursk region.

But the cost in lives has been horrendous.

Britain’s defence ministry says that in November Russia suffered 45,680 casualties, more than during any month since its full-scale invasion in February 2022.

According to the latest UK Defence Intelligence estimate, Russia lost a daily average of 1,523 men, killed and wounded.

On 28 November, it says, Russia lost more than 2,000 men in a single day, the first time this has happened.

“We’re seeing the Russians grinding out more advances,” one official said, on condition of anonymity. “But at enormous cost.”

Officials said the casualty figures were based on open-source material, sometimes cross-referenced with classified data.

All in all, Russia is estimated to have lost about 125,800 soldiers over the course of its autumn offensives, according to the Washington-based Institute for the Study of War (ISW).

Russia’s “meat-grinder” tactics, the ISW says, mean that Moscow is losing more than 50 soldiers for each square kilometre of captured territory.

Ukraine does not allow publication of its own military casualties, so there are no official estimates covering the last few months.

The Russian defence ministry says more than 38,000 Ukrainian soldiers have been lost (killed and wounded) in Kursk alone – a number that is impossible to verify.

Yuriy Butusov, a well-connected but controversial Ukrainian war correspondent, says that 70,000 Ukrainian soldiers have been killed since February 2022, with another 35,000 missing.

Earlier this week, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky denied US media reports that as many as 80,000 Ukrainian troops had died, saying it was “much less”.

He did not offer his own figure.

But taken together, the Russian and Ukrainian casualty figures point to the terrifying intensity of fighting going on in Kursk and Ukraine’s eastern regions.

Western officials see no sign of this changing.

“The Russian forces are highly likely to continue to attempt to stretch Ukrainian forces by using mass to overwhelm defensive positions and achieve tactical gains,” one said.

The pace of Russia’s advance has increased in recent weeks (while still nothing like the speed of its rapid advances in the first months of the war), stemmed only by a significant change in the ratio of artillery fire between the two sides.

Where once Russia was able to fire as many as 13 shells for every one Ukraine fired back, the ratio is now around 1.5 to 1.

This dramatic turnaround is partly explained by increased domestic production, as well as successful Ukrainian attacks on depots containing Russian and North Korean ammunition.

But artillery, while important, no longer plays such a decisive role.

“The bad news is that there’s been a massive increase in Russian glide bomb use,” one Western official said, “with devastating effects on the front line.”

Russia’s use of glide bombs – launched from jets flying well inside Russian-controlled airspace – has increased 10-fold over the past year, the official said.

Glide bombs and drones have transformed the conflict, as each side races to innovate.

“We’re at the point where drone warfare made infantry toothless, if not obsolete,” Serhiy, a front line soldier told me via WhatsApp.

As for manpower, both Ukraine and Russia continue to experience difficulties, but for different reasons.

Ukraine has been unwilling to reduce its conscription age below 25, depriving it of all 18- to 24-year-olds – except those who volunteer.

Russia, meanwhile, is still able to replace its losses, although President Vladimir Putin’s reluctance to conduct a fresh round of mobilisation points to a number of domestic considerations.

Soaring inflation, overflowing hospitals and problems with compensation payments to bereaved families are all factors.

In some regions of Russia, bonuses offered to volunteers willing to sign up for the war in Ukraine have risen as high as three million roubles (about £23,500; $30,000).

“I’m not suggesting that the Russian economy is on the brink of collapse,” the official said. “I’m just saying that pressures continue to mount there.”

Recent events in Syria could add to Moscow’s woes, as the Kremlin decides what resources it can afford to devote to its defence of President Bashar al-Assad’s regime.

But with the situation in Syria developing rapidly, officials say it’s too early to know what impact events there will have on the war in Ukraine.

“There’s certainly potentially longer-term prioritisation dilemmas for Russia,” one official said.

“It depends how the situation in Syria goes.”

More than 150 illegal miners have been rescued from an abandoned mine in South Africa’s eastern Mpumalanga province.

Police say three bodies were recovered earlier this week on the first day of the rescue operation.

Most of those rescued, reportedly foreign nationals, claim they were forced underground against their will to search for gold.

A police spokesperson confirmed the miners have been arrested, and investigations are continuing into illegal mining activities in the region.

Days earlier, the national police head Fannie Masemola also confirmed officers were investigating “allegations of human trafficking and forced labour in these mining operations by those who have resurfaced”.

On Friday night, the final miner to emerge from the disused shaft blew a whistle as he was received by army officers.

He appeared exhausted but could not hide his relief after surfacing.

A police spokesperson confirmed the rescue operation at the Mpumalanga mine is now complete, though investigations will continue before the site is shut down.

Meanwhile, rescue efforts are still under way at another abandoned mine in Stilfontein, south-west of Johannesburg.

Authorities plan to deploy more equipment on Monday to assist with removing those still trapped underground.

Illegal mining is widespread across South Africa, costing the economy millions in lost revenue.

Gen Masemola has described Mpumalanga as a hotspot for such activities.

• Inside South Africa’s ‘ruthless’ gang-controlled gold mines
• Miss Nigeria’s pride after defying trolls to challenge for Miss Universe
• Contraceptive pills recalled in South Africa after mix-up
• SA football president Jordaan arrested in fraud case

Koh Jae-hak can still vividly remember when he saw soldiers gunning down a group of young women in cold blood.

It was April 1960. Students had launched protests calling for the resignation of the dictatorial president Syngman Rhee. Mr Koh was working in a government building when he looked out of the window and saw protesters clashing with police.

“There were demonstrations from various universities, and they all gathered in front… that’s when shots were fired,” the 87-year-old said. Days later, martial law was declared.

South Korea is widely considered a peaceful beacon of democracy in Asia, but that wasn’t always the case. This is a country that saw 16 bouts of martial law during its first four decades ruled largely by dictators.

It is why democracy is now deeply treasured by South Koreans as a hard-won right. It is also why President Yoon Suk Yeol’s declaration of martial law this week – the first to happen in 45 years and during democratic rule – was particularly triggering and prompted such a visceral response.

Almost immediately, lawmakers jumped out of bed and rushed to the national assembly, clambering over fences to reverse martial law.

Hundreds of ordinary citizens gathered to hold back troops who had been ordered to throw out MPs.

Some soldiers, apparently unwilling to carry out their orders, reportedly dragged their feet in clearing the crowd and entering the building.

When Yoon declared martial law on Tuesday night, he said it was necessary to get rid of “pro-North anti-state” forces. Initially, it caused confusion with some South Koreans who believed there was a genuine threat from the North.

But as they continued watching Yoon’s televised announcement, many grew sceptical. He gave no evidence of such forces at work, nor explained who they were. As Yoon had previously used similar language to describe the opposition that had been stymying his reforms, the public concluded he was actually trying to crush his political foes.

Previous periods of martial law had also been justified by leaders as necessary to stabilise the country, and sometimes stamp out what they alleged were communist subversives planted by North Korea.

They curtailed freedom of press and freedom of movement. Night curfews and arrests were common.

Violent clashes sometimes took place, most indelibly in 1980, when then President Chun Doo-hwan extended martial law to deal with student protesters calling for democracy in the southern city of Gwangju. A brutal military crackdown was launched, and it has since been labelled a massacre – while the official death toll is 193, some experts believe hundreds more died.

South Korea eventually transitioned to democracy in 1988, when the government held its first free and fair presidential election following mounting public pressure. But the preceding decades had permanently and profoundly shaped the nation’s consciousness.

“Most Koreans have trauma, deep trauma, about martial law,” said Kelly Kim, 53, an environmental activist. “We don’t want to repeat the same thing over and over.”

Ms Kim was a young child when martial law was last in place and has little memory of it. Still, she shudders at the thought of it returning.

“The government would control all the media, our normal activities. I’m working in civil society, so all our activities, like criticising the government, would not be possible under the martial law. So that’s really horrible.”

The freedoms afforded by democracy have not just led to a thriving civil society.

In the more than 35 years since that first democratic election, South Korea’s creative industries have flourished, with its dramas, TV shows, music and literature becoming world famous. Those creative industries have turned their own lenses onto the country’s past, bringing history to life for those too young to remember.

The country has seen a proliferation of shows about its dictatorship past, immortalising incidents such as the Gwangju uprising in popular culture.

Some were blockbusters featuring South Korea’s biggest stars, such as last year’s 12.12 The Day, a historical drama starring popular actor Hwang Jung-min. The movie depicts the political chaos that took place in 1979 as martial law was declared following the assassination of then president Park Chung-hee.

“As soon as I saw the images [of Yoon’s declaration of martial law], it reminded me of that movie… it made me question, are we about to repeat that history now?” said Marina Kang, a 37-year-old web designer.

“Korea’s got a wealth of visual representational works [of that era] in films and documentaries. Though we only have indirect experience of the horrific past through these works… that still makes me feel very strongly that such events should not happen again.”

Among younger citizens, there is a sense of disbelief that it could have returned. Despite never knowing life under martial law, they have been taught by their parents and older relatives to fear it.

“At first [when I heard Yoon’s announcement], I was excited at the thought of getting a day off from school. But that joy was fleeting, and I was overwhelmed by the fear of daily life collapsing. I couldn’t sleep,” said 15-year-old Kwon Hoo.

“My father was concerned that under martial law, he wouldn’t be able to stay out late even though his work required him to… when he heard the news about the possibility of a curfew being imposed again, he started swearing while watching the news.”

Not all South Koreans feel this way about their past.

“The vast majority of Koreans appreciate democracy enormously and regret the authoritarianism of the post-war period,” said Mason Richey, associate professor of international politics at Hankuk University of Foreign Studies in Seoul.

But, he added, “the country remains very divided regarding numerous aspects of the authoritarian past, notably how justified certain repressive measures were in order to prevent communist subversion.”

There is the view among a significant portion of the population, especially among older folk, that martial law was necessary in the past for stability and democracy.

“Back then, it was a time defined by ideological warfare between democracy and communist socialism,” said Kang Hyo-san, 83. He was sitting next to his friend Mr Koh in a cafe at Gwanghwamun, Seoul’s main square and focal point for the city’s protest rallies.

The competing ideologies would lead to clashes and “when the military intervened, the situation would stabilise… it was a process to restore order and properly establish free democracy.

“Given the circumstances, we couldn’t help but view it positively,” he said, adding that he felt each period of martial law left the country in a more “favourable” position. Martial law in South Korea “fundamentally differed” from other nations, where it “wasn’t about killing people or senseless violence”, he insisted.

But this time, it’s different. Both octogenarians felt that Yoon’s declaration of martial law was unacceptable. “Even though we’ve experienced martial law many times throughout our lives, this time there’s no justification for its declaration,” said Mr Koh.

Like them, Ms Kim, the environmental activist, was glad Yoon did not succeed and democracy prevailed in the end. “Because we fought so hard to get it, right? We don’t want to lose it again.

“Without democracy and freedom of living, what is life?”

South Korea’s president shocked the country on Tuesday night when, out of the blue, he declared martial law in the Asian democracy for the first time in nearly 50 years.

Yoon Suk Yeol’s drastic decision – announced in a late-night TV broadcast – mentioned “anti-state forces” and the threat from North Korea.

But it soon became clear that it had not been spurred by external threats but by his own desperate political troubles.

Still, it prompted thousands of people to gather at parliament in protest, while opposition lawmakers rushed there to push through an emergency vote to remove the measure.

Defeated, Yoon emerged a few hours later to accept the parliament’s vote and lift the martial law order.

Now, lawmakers will vote on whether to impeach him over what the country’s main opposition has called his “insurrectionary behaviour”.

• The president’s gamble backfired: What was he thinking?
• Woman who grabbed South Korean soldier’s gun speaks to BBC
• How two hours of martial law chaos unfolded

Yoon has acted like a president under siege, observers say.

In his address on Tuesday night, he recounted the political opposition’s attempts to undermine his government before saying he was declaring martial law to “crush anti-state forces that have been wreaking havoc”.

His decree temporarily put the military in charge – with helmeted troops and police deployed to the National Assembly parliament building where helicopters were seen landing on the roof.

Local media also showed scenes of masked, gun-toting troops entering the building while staffers tried to hold them off with fire extinguishers.

Around 23:00 local time on Tuesday (14:00 GMT), the military issued a decree banning protests and activity by parliament and political groups, and putting the media under government control.

But South Korean politicians immediately called Yoon’s declaration illegal and unconstitutional. The leader of his own party, the conservative People’s Power Party, also called Yoon’s act “the wrong move”.

Meanwhile, the leader of the country’s largest opposition party, Lee Jae-myung of the liberal Democratic Party, called on his MPs to converge on parliament to vote down the declaration.

He also called on ordinary South Koreans to show up at parliament in protest.

“Tanks, armoured personnel carriers and soldiers with guns and knives will rule the country… My fellow citizens, please come to the National Assembly.”

Thousands heeded the call, rushing to gather outside the now heavily guarded parliament. Protesters chanted: “No martial law!” and “strike down dictatorship”.

Local media broadcasting from the site showed some scuffles between protesters and police at the gates. But despite the military presence, tensions did not escalate into violence.

And lawmakers were also able to make their way around the barricades – even climbing fences to make it to the voting chamber.

Shortly after 01:00 on Wednesday, South Korea’s parliament, with 190 of its 300 members present, voted down the measure. President Yoon’s declaration of martial law was ruled invalid.

Martial law is temporary rule by military authorities in a time of emergency, when civil authorities are deemed unable to function.

The last time it was declared in South Korea was in 1979, when the country’s then long-term military dictator Park Chung-hee was assassinated during a coup.

It has never been invoked since the country became a parliamentary democracy in 1987.

But on Tuesday, Yoon pulled that trigger, saying in a national address he was trying to save South Korea from “anti-state forces”.

Yoon, who has taken a noticeably more hardline stance on North Korea than his predecessors, described the political opposition as North Korea sympathisers – without providing evidence.

Under martial law, extra powers are given to the military and there is often a suspension of civil rights for citizens and rule of law standards and protections.

Despite the military announcing restrictions on political activity and the media, protesters and politicians defied those orders. And there was no sign of the government seizing control of free media – Yonhap, the national broadcaster, and other outlets kept reporting as normal.

Yoon was voted into office in May 2022 as a hardline conservative, but has been a lame duck president since April when the opposition won a landslide in the country’s general election.

His government since then has not been able to pass the bills they wanted and have been reduced instead to vetoing bills passed by the liberal opposition.

He has also seen a fall in approval ratings – hovering around lows of 17% – as he has been mired in several corruption scandals this year, including one involving the First Lady accepting a Dior bag, and another around alleged stock manipulation.

Just last month he was forced to issue an apology on national TV, saying he was setting up an office overseeing the First Lady’s duties. But he rejected a wider investigation, which opposition parties had been calling for.

Then this week, the opposition proposed slashing a major government budget bill – which cannot be vetoed.

At the same time, the opposition also moved to impeach cabinet members and several top prosecutors- including the head of the government’s audit agency – for failing to investigate the First Lady.

The opposition Democratic Party has moved to impeach Yoon.

Parliament will have to vote by Saturday on whether to do this.

The impeachment process is relatively straightforward in South Korea. To succeed, it would require support from more than two-thirds of the 300-member National Assembly – at least 200 votes.

Once an impeachment is approved, a trial is held before the Constitutional Court – a nine-member council that oversees South Korea’s branches of government.

If six of the court’s members vote to sustain the impeachment, the president is removed from office.

If this happens, it wouldn’t be the first time that a South Korean president has been impeached. In 2016, then-President Park Geun-hye was impeached after being accused of helping a friend commit extortion.

In 2004 another president, Roh Moo-hyun, was impeached and suspended for two months. The Constitutional Court later restored him to office.

Yoon’s rash action stunned the country – which views itself as a thriving, modern democracy that has come far since its dictatorship days.

Many see this week’s events as the biggest challenge to that democratic society in decades.

Experts contend it may be more damaging to South Korea’s reputation as a democracy than even the 6 January riots in the US.

“Yoon’s declaration of martial law appeared to be both legal overreach and a political miscalculation, unnecessarily risking South Korea’s economy and security,” one expert, Leif-Eric Easley at Ewha University in Seoul said.

“He sounded like a politician under siege, making a desperate move against mounting scandals, institutional obstruction and calls for impeachment, all of which are now likely to intensify.”

A chaotic night in South Korea produced scenes most thought were consigned to the nation’s history.

One in particular has caught the attention of many: a woman confronting soldiers who were sent to block lawmakers from entering the National Assembly.

Footage of Ahn Gwi-ryeong, 35, a spokesperson for the opposition Democratic Party, grabbing the weapon of a soldier during the commotion has been shared widely online.

“I didn’t think… I just knew we had to stop this,” she told the BBC Korean Service.

Ahn made her way to the assembly building as soldiers descended on it, shortly after the president declared martial law across South Korea.

Like many in South Korea’s younger generation, the word “martial law” was foreign to her. It was last declared in 1979.

When Ahn first heard the news, she admitted “a sense of panic took over”.

• Fear, fury and triumph: Six hours that shook South Korea
• The president’s gamble backfired: What was he thinking?
• What is martial law and why was it declared?
• How two hours of martial law chaos unfolded

When martial law is declared, political activities like rallies and demonstrations are banned, strikes and labour actions are prohibited, and media and publishing activities are controlled by the authorities. Violators can be arrested or detained without a warrant.

Shortly after the declaration of martial law, opposition leader Lee Jae-myung called on lawmakers to gather in the National Assembly and hold a vote to annul the declaration.

Arriving at the assembly building just past 23:00 local time, Ahn recalled turning off office lights to avoid detection as helicopters circled overhead.

By the time she reached the main building, soldiers were engaged in a stand-off with officials, aides and citizens.

She said: “When I saw the armed soldiers… I felt like I was witnessing the regression of history.”

Ahn and her colleagues were desperate to prevent the troops from entering the main building, where the vote would be held.

They locked the revolving doors from the inside and piled furniture and other heavy objects in front of the doors.

When the military began advancing, Ahn stepped forward.

“Honestly, I was scared at first,” she said, adding: “But seeing such confrontation, I thought, ‘I can’t stay silent’.”

The assembly passed the resolution calling for the lifting of martial law at around 01:00. All 190 members who were present voted to repeal it.

At 04:26, President Yoon announced he was reversing his decision.

After the chaos subsided, Ahn slept for a short time inside the assembly building.

She continued: “I was actually a little scared to go outside the assembly in the morning because there didn’t seem to be any taxis running, and after such a storm last night, it was hard to get back to reality.”

During her conversation with the BBC, Ahn was wearing the same black turtleneck and leather jacket she had been wearing in the footage from the night before.

At times, she was overcome with emotion.

“It’s heartbreaking and frustrating that this is happening in 21st century Korea,” she said.

No more Mr Nice Guy? “I’m not putting up with this anymore” may as well have been the message of Sir Keir Starmer’s big speech this week, according to one senior source. Sir Keir wasn’t just listing his political priorities, he was showing what has been no secret in Westminster for a few weeks, that he has a “frustration, a genuine annoyance” according to another source, about how hard it seems to be to get things done.

The prime minister was not just sounding off at civil servants insiders claim, but trying to confront gloomy public perceptions that governments can’t really make much difference to our lives. Sir Keir is not someone who likes being told that something can’t be done.

His speech, which No 10 had been contemplating since before the Budget at the end of October, does give you and me a card with which to mark the government’s progress. It shows what the prime minister’s team has concluded is most important to the public and therefore the country’s most urgent problems to fix.

Allies of the prime minister dismiss suggestions it was yet another campaign event – after all to govern is to choose, as the saying goes – and they’ve made big decisions about what to pursue, and what, by implication, has fallen down the list.

But away from the policies, this week’s moment was Sir Keir and No 10 “stamping authority on things”, says an insider – not just in a broad political sense but also in one very specific way. Whitehall is increasingly consumed with the upcoming spending review, the moment when the Treasury spells out how much cash each department is going to get in the years to come, likely now after Easter, in May or early June. But the prime minister has very publicly set the priorities now so no one can “wriggle away from the fact No 10 will be in charge”, says the insider.

Isn’t No 10 always in charge? Well the Spending Review process was invented by then Chancellor Gordon Brown, one source recalls, to make sure that “he could control the big decisions, not Tony [Blair]”.

The pattern for years has been haggling between the chancellor at No 11 and other government departments over the sums. According to one Sir Keir ally: “The Treasury has had the pen and the meetings and the numbers, then No 10 gets involved for the political risk at the end.”

Not this time. Now the “political strategy comes first” with Sir Keir’s announcements this week, “then the pounds and pence” I’m told, with the agreement of Rachel Reeves.

There is also a hope that such a public setting of priorities (these are the prime minister’s own words) might avoid noises off in the run up to that vital review. Sir Keir has made plain what is important to him. If a minister isn’t lucky enough to have their agenda on his shopping list of priorities, the idea is that arguing privately or publicly through allies or journalists with willing pens and microphones isn’t going to make the running – “the political choices have been made”, a source says.

But guess what? It might not be quite so straightforward for the not so new PM to bare his teeth, show his frustration and then find he’s suddenly fully in control. New targets set by a new, visibly frustrated prime minister, are unlikely suddenly to persuade you all.

Another Whitehall insider told me – “I thought he managed to cosplay both Rishi and Boris in one go yesterday with six targets and the CS [civil service] stuff” – teasing him for metaphorically dressing up as not just one, but two of his predecessors. Ouch! Whereas Sir Keir has six targets, Rishi Sunak had five pledges that drove his unsuccessful time in government. And just as Sir Keir spoke of “naysayers” in his speech, Boris Johnson was fond of taking on what he described as the “doomsters” and “gloomsters”.

Sir Keir wouldn’t like the comparisons to Johnson or Sunak who he lambasted in office. He certainly wouldn’t want to give the impression he’s aping their style or strategy. But he is often accused of chopping and changing his own.

Sir Keir’s joke about being the next James Bond was just that, a joke. It’s unclear if he has ever indulged in fancy dress, certainly as an adult. But it is the case we’ve seen different versions of Sir Keir, accompanied by seeming contradictions.

There was the tough sheriff during the summer riots intent on rapidly locking up offenders, who is now exploring shorter prison sentences for some wrongdoers. He was the City schmoozer when trying to woo business to Labour’s cause, who has then slapped billions of tax on firms. There has been the prime minister who wants a radical rewiring of the state, who then appointed a classic Whitehall insider as the head of the civil service this week. And he was, of course, the aspirant party leader from Labour’s soft squidgy left that had stood alongside Jeremy Corbyn, who then disavowed him and his policies.

A senior official warns “it looks like cakeism” – the prime minister wants to have it all ways, and doesn’t want to be defined, or choose what he is really about, or maybe, the official warns, he doesn’t really know?

The long running criticism of Sir Keir is that he doesn’t have his own ideology, isn’t part of any particular political tribe and so it can be hard to work out what he is really for. A former senior official describes him as a “sole trader” in politics who will do what is required in a particular moment but doesn’t understand empathy or persuasion, telling me, “he doesn’t persuade or influence – he wants the country to eat our all bran, but he also thinks it’s beneath people to be motivated by human connection or emotion”. Another insider remarks, “his shtick is what works, so there is no ‘Starmerism’ – that means it’s difficult for the civil service to know what he stands for, or what he might instinctively want to do about most issues”.

But the prime minister’s obvious irritation act has caused genuine upset in Whitehall.

Without doubt some officials perceive his comments this week as an attack on them. They’ve come as a shock, “weird” is how one describes it and says it’s come out of nowhere. The suggestion that the civil service is happy to preside over mediocrity has genuinely surprised and caused distress among officials who feel they have been busting a gut to get to know their ministers and understand what the new government is about, and to help them achieve their goals. “The anger is real”, a senior official told me and “suggests a disconnect” between No 10 and departments where civil servants have been “working like dogs” to try to make sense of their new master’s plans.

His allies don’t, and never have pretended that Sir Keir is someone in politics to make friends. He himself freely admits he’ll have to be unpopular to get things done. They say he’s aligned with the public, he cares about what will get results, not what Westminster is preoccupied with. But that has perhaps meant that over time he’s been willing to take on different political personas, to play different parts depending on what suits him at that moment.

His shifts in position, one ally admits, mean that for “people looking to be critical of him, the Left or the Tories, that can mean he looks inconsistent”. But they say “a more fair and honest appraisal of him is that he is just focused on what works”. The word used again and again about his political character by sources close to him is “pragmatist”. The public isn’t exactly delighted with the results of politicians who have pursued ideology after all.

Politics is rarely pure, no successful leader has ever slavishly followed a predetermined path. Yet a union leader worries, “in government it’s the substance and judgement that counts. You need something to fall back on, your guiding principles that help you make those judgements”.

Consistency matters too. Sir Keir’s allies say he is much happier being the prime minister than he ever was being leader of the opposition because he can act, not just say. Yet one of the insiders I’ve talked to cautions the prime minister’s frustrations stem not from the lack of desire to make things happen in Whitehall, but a lack of clarity in his instructions to the government. “Maybe he knows how to “be” PM but not how to “do” it. They don’t actually know what they want to do beyond the level of vague generalities,” the insider argues.

But after five months in government we are seeing the prime minister trying out a new part – the frustrated boss. Pointing the finger at “naysayers”, and “blockers” whoever the people are who are wallowing in the tepid bath he described is a deliberate decision.

As Sir Keir is trying to tighten his grip on the government machine it’s the persona he is portraying in this moment.

“He’s more determined to win than people think” says a source who’s worked with the PM up close. Perhaps the only persona he truly wants to avoid is playing the losing part.

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Megumi and Gordon McKillop didn’t meet on a dating app, or at work, or through a mutual friend.

Instead, they met when Megumi was attempting a tricky climbing route at their local bouldering centre, and was – by her own admission – falling off the wall.

Gordon, who’d been climbing for more than 10 years, asked if Megumi wanted some advice. Then, later that day, when Megumi, a relative newbie at the sport, cut her hand on the wall, Gordon jumped in to offer her an antiseptic wipe.

That night, Gordon, now 42, decided to look Megumi, 33, up on Facebook to check how her name was spelt. But he accidentally sent her a friend request.

That was in November 2021, shortly after Megumi had relocated from Canada to Scotland. Ten months later, they moved in together. In February 2024, the couple got married – and, true to form, the wedding was dominated by climbing.

Their wedding reception was a picnic at Dumbarton Rock, a popular climbing sport in western Scotland, the photographer was one of Gordon’s climbing friends, and they spent their honeymoon in Kalymnos, a popular rock climbing destination in Greece.

To this day, they still go climbing at the Newsroom in Glasgow, the climbing wall where they met. They’ve befriended a number of other couples who met through bouldering, too.

Where people find love is always changing. Dating apps, a common way to meet a partner, have seen a significant drop in user numbers this year, says communications regulator Ofcom.

But other more traditional pathways to finding love, such as meeting someone at work or on a night out, have also seen a lot of disruption recently.

Shifting attitudes towards working from home are seen by many as good for work/life balance, but spending less time with colleagues can also mean less opportunity to meet new people. This autumn, more than 10% of Britons were working remotely and over a quarter were working hybrid patterns (a mix of home and office working), according to ONS data – significantly higher than pre-pandemic figures.

Meanwhile, NHS data shows that average weekly alcohol consumption had declined slightly in the decade to 2022 and the Night Time Industries Association warns that UK night clubs are closing at a rapid rate.

But if dating apps, offices and nightclubs are all becoming less of a feature of people’s social lives, then what replaces them?

Managers at climbing centres across the UK say their venues are one of the unlikely places people are meeting potential partners.

Sarah Moran, manager at Climbing Works in Sheffield, says that she’s been on dates with people she’s met through climbing.

“They’ve come up to me and we’ve chatted a little bit, maybe climbed a little bit together, and at the end we exchanged numbers,” she says.

The managers say the sport has boomed in popularity since the pandemic, which they mainly put down to its introduction at the Tokyo 2020 Olympic Games, as well as British rock climber Toby Roberts’ win at the Paris 2024 Games.

About 400,000 people climb at least twice a month, according to the British Mountaineering Council. There are more than 400 climbing gyms across the UK.

Climbers say that it’s a “hyper-social” sport where you’re constantly in close proximity with other people.

Gill Peet, manager at Blackburn climbing wall Onyx, likens climbing centres to a “grown-up youth club”. She says climbers are “almost forced” to socialise because of the time spent on the mats between each climb, catching their breath, planning out their next route or asking for advice.

The socialising often continues post-workout, too, with climbers grabbing a coffee or pizza together with many climbing centres having their own cafes.

“I do more talking at the climbing wall than I do climbing,” Rose Henderson says.

Rose met her partner, Mark Garbe, in 2015 at a climbing group organised through the socialising app Meetup. The pair, both 33, quickly hit it off and now live together in Ayrshire.

Mark says their social life is “based entirely around climbing”. They’ve been on group holidays to Fontainebleau, a climbing hotspot in France, and cycled the Hebridean Way with their climbing friends. They choose their holiday destinations based on whether there are climbing centres nearby and watch climbing world cups together.

Many climbing centres host social events, including women’s and LBGT nights, where climbers of a range of abilities can get to know other people.

Kaloyan Galev, 21, met his partner Samuel Prentice, 22, at a student climbing event in early 2020. Kaloyan has taken part in multiple sports competitively but says climbing is the only one he knows of that hosts specific “LGBT nights”.

Climbing walls are “very accepting”, he says.

Millions of Brits use dating apps – about 10% of UK adults who use the internet and 4.9 million people used online dating services in May, according to a new report from Ofcom. But after soaring in popularity following the introduction of Tinder in 2014, user numbers are now falling.

The four most popular dating apps in the UK – Tinder, Hinge, Bumble and Grindr – all lost UK users between May 2023 and May 2024, says Ofcom’s report.

The number of UK adults using Tinder dropped 23% and Bumble users fell 26%. Hinge, which has the youngest user base of the mainstream dating apps, experienced a 9% drop in users.

Mariko Visserman, a psychology lecturer at the University of Sussex who studies romantic relationships, says “choice overload” is causing some people to become tired of online dating. This, combined with some users’ “very high expectations and standards”, often leads to disappointment, she says.

Before he met Kaloyan at a climbing event, Samuel had tried out dating apps.

“I find it just hard to get something going with a stranger just through an online profile,” he says. “Almost feels like squeezing water from a stone sometimes.”

Climbing, in comparison, is “such a low pressure place to meet,” Gill says. “You’re not specifically there to find someone, you’re just there to climb.”

And when you climb together, you “quickly learn a lot about someone”, says James Lister, marketing manager at Depot Climbing, a chain of climbing walls. You can see how they react when they’re frustrated at a route, happy with an achievement and socialising with a group of people, he adds.

It’s a lot of “red or green flag ticking,” he says.

“I’d find it hard to be with someone who didn’t climb,” says Kellie Burston, 35, who works as a planning and permitting manager. “I said to friends, ‘I couldn’t date someone who wasn’t a climber.'”

She’d filled her dating apps with photos of her climbing and doing outdoor activities in the hope of finding a match with similar interests but had no luck.

Kellie met her partner Jack Toon, 32, a HGV driver, at Depot Climbing in Sheffield.

They were both hooked on the sport, and “we just kept seeing each other,” Jack says.

After a while, Kellie and Jack struck up a conversation on Instagram. Their first date was climbing together – a “cheap date”, Kellie says, since they both had membership.

Kellie says she’d always hoped to meet someone this way, but thought it was a pipe dream.

The couple have now been together four years and are getting married in Las Vegas next year. They usually climb together about four times a week and live just a 15 minute drive from the wall they met at.

Ivory Coast’s national dish attiéké has gained UN cultural heritage status, along with Japanese sake, Thai prawn soup and Caribbean cassava bread. But what makes this West African staple so popular? BBC Africa correspondent Mayeni Jones grew up in Ivory Coast and is a self-professed superfan.

One of my earliest childhood memories is hearing vendors sing “Attiéké chaud! Attiéké chaud!” or “Hot attiéké!” as they strolled the streets of my neighbourhood, balancing large baskets of this national delicacy on their heads.

Fast-forward 25 years and women carrying individually wrapped portions of the fermented cassava couscous still walk across Abidjan, Ivory Coast’s biggest city, selling this now Unesco-recognised dish.

An alternative to rice, it’s hard to find any hospitality venue in the Ivory Coast that doesn’t serve attiéké. From the most basic eateries to the fanciest restaurants and even on the beach, it’s everywhere.

Attiéké’s popularity has spilled over the country’s borders, and it is now found across Africa, especially in French-speaking countries.

It’s also very popular in neighbouring Ghana and my home country Sierra Leone, where they have some fairly unorthodox serving suggestions.

The distinctive tangy taste of attiéké comes from the cassava tubers mixed with fermented cassava, which gives it its unique flavour and texture.

The cassava is grated, dried and then steamed before serving.

Filling and versatile, Ivorian chef Rōze Traore describes its texture as “fluffy yet granular, similar to couscous”.

Mr Traore adds that the slight tanginess of attiéké provides a unique depth to meals, perfectly balancing spicy or savoury sauces.

For Paule-Odile Béké, an Ivorian chef who competed on the UK TV programme Masterchef: The Professionals, “sour, zingy and sweet” are the words that come to mind when she describes the taste of attiéké.

Gluten-free and available in different grain sizes, the finest is often the most expensive. Some places even sell red attiéké, which has been soaked in palm oil.

Eaten with a variety of dishes, the most popular version is with chargrilled chicken or fish, a simple, spicy tomato-based sauce and a salsa of chopped tomatoes and onions.

It was one of the first dishes I cooked for my husband when we met 15 years ago. He liked it so much, he suggested we open a restaurant serving just that.

Attiéké is unpretentious, although traditionally reserved for special occasions like weddings and birthdays, people now eat it every day.

Ms Béké, who comes from a family of attiéké-makers, explained some nuances.

“Our attieke will be a bit more yellow than some other regions due to the proximity of the sea,” she said.

A native of Jacqueville, a small coastal town where attiéké is made, she features it heavily in the menu of her New York supper clubs.

Although I left Ivory Coast at the age of 14 as civil unrest broke out, I have never been able to let go of attiéké.

In London, I’d travel miles to Congolese shops to excavate bags of attiéké from the permafrost at the bottom of a chest freezer, stockpiling it for dinner guests I could evangelise.

When I moved to Nigeria, I mandated relatives to bring me care packages from Abidjan or Freetown, Sierra Leone’s capital.

It was one of the first things I looked for when I moved to Johannesburg in South Africa three months ago.

Where to find it is always one of the first questions I have for any Ivorians I meet outside Ivory Coast.

Obviously it tastes delicious, but it’s hard to describe what makes attiéké so special.

Ivorian chef Charlie Koffi says “attiéké is a dish that symbolizes togetherness”.

Like injera, the fermented Ethiopian pancake, or thieboudienne, Senegal’s rice-and-fish dish, attiéké is best enjoyed in a group.

Across Ivory Coast, friends and family will gather around a big plate, eating with their hands and washing it down with a cold beer or soft drink.

For me, it’s also a reminder of a childhood which was cut short. I was just 13 years old when on Christmas Eve 1999, as I waited for my friends to come round for a play date, a military coup rocked Ivory Coast.

As soldiers drove through the city shooting in the air and telling people to head indoors, my little sister and I clung to each other in a hallway, the only windowless space in our house.

Our mum was stuck in town, unable to join us.

Six months later, my mum sent us to the UK to live with our grandmother, fearing the rising political tension in the run-up to the 2000 presidential elections would result in further unrest.

Just two years later, the country’s first civil war would break out, and it would be another 15 years before I was able to return to my childhood home.

But even when I couldn’t return to Babi (Abidjan’s nickname), attiéké was always a way to connect to the place we had left behind.

Even though I’m not Ivorian, like many of the expatriates and economic migrants who moved to the country during the prosperous 1990s, Ivory Coast is home.

We all speak Nouchi, the French slang that peppers Ivorian music and the streets of its cities, and we all eat attiéké.

Ivory Coast has a way of making people feel at home, and attiéké is part of that.

When I finished university, I returned to Ivory Coast for a year to work for an international NGO.

On our way back from one of our assignments in the west of the country, an Ivorian colleague explained that traditionally, attiéké was mostly eaten with kedjenou, a rich, smoky stew made with tomatoes, onions, and chillies.

This is slow-cooked with local chicken or game in a clay pot over a wood fire, infusing the dish with a deep, flavourful essence.

He claimed that it was only after the French arrived that Ivorians started serving attiéké with grilled fish and chicken.

This is not something that I’ve been able to confirm, but it always rang true.

Ivorians, although fiercely proud of their culture, have always been open to foreign influences in their cuisine and many regional dishes have become local staples.

Now that attiéké has been added to the list of intangible cultural heritage in need of urgent safeguarding, perhaps more people outside the region will become aware of this delicious treat.

• Attiéké – Ivory Coast’s answer to champagne
• Congolese rumba wins Unesco protected status
• West Africa’s Michelin-starred cuisine wows London
• Nigerians turn to ‘throw-away’ rice for food

Wedged into the middle of a three storey-high pile of rubble and charred possessions in southern Beirut is a twisted and cracked metal sign. “Spare parts. Jeep Cherokee,” it says.

It is the only indication that the ground floor of this destroyed building had been occupied by a busy car parts dealership – one of many such businesses destroyed by Israel’s heavy bombing of Dahieh, the largely Hezbollah-controlled southern suburb of the capital.

“We were so confident we wouldn’t be hit, because of the nature of the people here – ordinary, people, business owners,” said Imad Abdelhak, staring up at the smashed building.

Abdelhak’s garage, next door, had survived the worst of the air strike, but he was waiting to find out if the whole structure would have to be torn down because of the impact.

All over Lebanon, business owners are reeling after an intense conflict between Israel and Hezbollah saw Israeli bombs rain down on residential, commercial and industrial parts of the country, destroying shops, warehouses and stocks of goods.

A US- and French-brokered ceasefire, which is largely holding, halted the war last week, but for many of the country’s business owners and workers the pain is only beginning.

“I have lost $20,000 and my only source of income,” said Ibrahim Mortada, another car parts dealer in Dahieh whose building was hit. “I have no idea how we can survive,” he said.

Like Abdelhak, Mortada was waiting for engineers to assess the building, but it was clear to anyone standing underneath it that the structure was unsafe. The top seven floors had been destroyed by a direct strike. Huge slabs of concrete and loose rubble hung precariously over Mortada’s head as he attempted to clear up what was left of his premises.

“My business has been open here for 23 years,” he said, dejectedly. “We are counting on God to help us now.”

The business owners of Dahieh and beyond are also counting on Hezbollah, the powerful Lebanese political and militant group, which said it will begin this week to assess the damage to homes and businesses and dole out cash for people to pay rent, buy new furniture, and begin to rebuild.

In the southern city of Nabatieh on Wednesday, where its Ottoman-era market and surrounding businesses were completely destroyed, people were still waiting for the Hezbollah assessors to arrive.

“Nobody has contacted us – nobody from the government, nobody from any group,” said Niran Ali, a 56-year-old woman whose shop, Zen Baby Fashion, had disappeared with virtually all of its stock.

Scanning the rubble, Ali caught sight of a pink, soot-covered pair of girls’ tracksuit bottoms, hanging from a steel girder jutting out of the heap. “These were mine,” she said, running her finger across the blackened fabric. “Maybe they are the only thing left of my business.”

Like others in Nabatieh, Ali had heard that Hezbollah was going to begin by assessing homes (the group has pledged $5,000 per household to help pay for rent, and $8,000 to replace furniture) and then move on to businesses, where the losses are much higher.

Jalal Nasser, who owned a large complex containing a coffee shop, restaurant and library, returned to the city on the first day of the ceasefire to find the complex transformed into a charred husk by a massive air strike across the road. He estimated he had lost up to $250,000.

He set up a small table and chair on the edge of the shell of the building, overlooking the main street, and smoked his shisha. “To give people hope”, he said.

As for where the money was going to come from to rebuild, “that is the big question,” he said, shrugging. “But we are waiting for Hezbollah. I’m sure they will give.”

The World Bank estimates this war has caused at least $8.5bn worth of damage to Lebanon’s economy. It would be a huge sum for any similar nation, but for Lebanon it comes on the heels of a financial crisis in 2019 and the devastating port blast the following year.

In the aftermath of the previous war with Israel, in 2006, money poured in from Iran and from gulf states to rebuild Lebanon. This time around, it is unclear if that tap will turn on.

“There is nothing yet in terms of allocation for reconstruction,” Nasser Yasin, the environment minister and head of the government’s crisis cell told the BBC on Wednesday.

“We have some good indications, some pledges from friends of Lebanon,” he said. “But we estimate we are going to need billions of dollars this time. The level of destruction is probably six to 10 times what it was in 2006.”

Israel has said it was acting solely against Hezbollah in its strikes on Nabatieh, and not against the Lebanese population. Yasin accused the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) of “urbicide” for its widespread destruction of the city.

On a visit to Nabatieh on Wednesday afternoon, Imran Riza, the UN’s deputy special co-ordinator for Lebanon, told the BBC the scale of what needed to be done was “enormous”.

“The past two and a half months, particularly, have been massively destructive,” he said. “It is a very long road back.”

The historic market in Nabatieh dates back about 500 years. It has repeatedly come under attack from Israel in the decades since 1978. Unlike previous attacks, this time the destruction was total.

“This is the worst for Nabatieh, the worst war we have seen,” said Yusuf Mouzzain, who owned a clothes shop in the market. In his shop, a few surviving clothes hung on a rail, coated in soot. He estimated he had suffered about $80,000 worth of damage.

In 2006, Hezbollah gave a good sum to the affected business owners. This time, he had no idea what they would receive, or who from. “But we have lost everything, he said. “So someone has to give us something.”

The manhunt for a suspect who gunned down a healthcare chief executive in New York is now in its third day, with police chasing several different leads.

UnitedHealthcare boss Brian Thompson, 50, was fatally shot in the back on Wednesday morning outside the Hilton hotel in Midtown Manhattan.

Police say Thompson was targeted in a pre-planned killing, for which they do not yet have a motive.

Investigators are using surveillance photos, bullet casings with cryptic messages written on them, and the suspect’s movements to track him down. They are also working with the FBI and authorities in other states as the search expands beyond New York.

Here’s what we know about the suspect and the investigation.

Police are working with “a lot of leads”, said former FBI special agent Michael Tabman. On Friday, the FBI offered a $50,000 reward for information leading to an arrest and conviction.

Police have put together more than 200 images of the suspect from his arrival in New York until he fled Midtown Manhattan after shooting Thompson, according to the BBC’s US partner CBS News.

On Thursday they shared two images – the clearest ones so far – of the suspect, one which shows him smiling with his black face mask pulled down.

A hostel receptionist reportedly told police that the photo was taken when she asked him to show his face, in a flirtatious moment.

The man was staying at the hostel on the Upper West Side in New York, where he reportedly used a fake New Jersey license as identification. Police say they have executed a search warrant at the hostel.

Authorities have also been doing a “full sweep” of Central Park – a 2.5 mile (4km) long and 0.5 miles (0.8km) wide area in the heart of the city – and on Friday found a backpack they believe the suspect was carrying at the time of the attack. It has been sent for forensic testing, CBS reports.

Officials are also attempting to make use of DNA evidence, including a water bottle and candy wrapper from the crime scene, as well as a Starbucks coffee cup, that they believe are linked to the suspect.

A mobile phone was also discovered in an alley along the suspect’s escape route.

So far, fingerprints found left behind have been unusable for identification, police said.

Authorities have been able to put together an incomplete timeline of his movements in the city, from his arrival on 24 November to when he fled after the attack on 4 December.

New York Police Department (NYPD) Chief of Detectives Joseph Kenny said on Friday that the suspect arrived in the city on a bus that originated from Atlanta, though it’s unclear where he caught the bus along its route.

He then took a cab to the vicinity of the Hilton, the hotel where he would later kill Thompson, and spent about 30 minutes there before heading to the hostel.

At the hostel he had two roommates but neither saw his face as he wore his mask while he was around them, Mr Kenny said.

The suspect left the hostel early on Wednesday, returned to the vicinity of the Hilton and stopped at a Starbucks.

Thompson was shot at around 06:45 EST (11:45 GMT).

At 06:48, the suspect entered Central Park. Shortly before 07:00 he left the park and at 07:04 took a cab to the Port Authority bus terminal.

The shooting took place in a busy part of Manhattan close to Times Square and Central Park. Thompson had been scheduled to speak at an investor conference later in the day.

According to police, the suspect – who was clad in his mask and light brown or cream-coloured jacket – appeared to be waiting for Thompson for five minutes outside the Hilton hotel where he was expected to speak.

Thompson, who arrived on foot, was shot in the back and leg, and was pronounced dead about half an hour later at a local hospital.

The NYPD said that the suspect’s weapon appeared to jam, but that he was able to quickly fix it and keep shooting.

CCTV footage appears to show the gunman had fitted a suppressor, also known as a silencer, to the weapon.

Investigators reportedly believe the firearm is a BT Station Six 9, a weapon which is marketed as tracing its roots back to pistols used in World War Two.

Police have reportedly visited gun stores in Connecticut to try to determine where the weapon was purchased.

After the shooting, video shows the suspect fleeing the scene on foot. Officials say he later got on an e-bike, which he rode toward Central Park.

Police believe he left New York, possibly on a bus headed for Atlanta, Georgia, sources familiar with the matter have told CBS News.

Atlanta police released a statement on Friday confirming they are helping New York authorities in the investigation.

Investigators have so far not identified a motive in the killing, but they are focusing in part on words written in Sharpie on bullet casings discovered at the scene of the crime.

The words “deny”, “defend” and “depose” were discovered on the casings.

Investigators believe this could be a reference to the “three D’s of insurance” – a known reference made by opponents of the industry.

The terms refer to tactics used by insurance companies to refuse payment claims by patients in America’s complicated and mostly privately run healthcare system.

The words resemble – but are not exactly the same as – the title of a book called Delay, Deny, Defend: Why Insurance Companies Don’t Pay Claims and What You Can Do About It.

The book, published in 2010, was written by Jay Feinman, a legal scholar at Rutgers University in New Jersey. It’s billed as an exposé of the insurance industry and a how-to guide for Americans on how to navigate the system.

Professor Feinman declined to comment when the BBC contacted him.

Thompson joined UnitedHealth, the biggest private insurer in the US, from accountancy firm PricewaterhouseCoopers in 2004.

He rose through the ranks and became CEO in 2021, leading the company through some very profitable years.

• Who was Brian Thompson?

In an interview with MSNBC, Thompson’s wife said that there had “been some threats” against him earlier, although she was unable to provide details.

“I just know that he said there were some people that had been threatening him,” she said.

According to police in Thompson’s hometown of Maple Grove, Minnesota, there had previously been one suspicious incident at his home in 2018.

The incident was cleared with no criminal activity detected. No additional details were provided.

Storm Darragh has caused disruption throughout the country after its 90mph winds caused power cuts, trees to be uprooted and events and travel to be cancelled.

A rare red weather warning was issued by the Met Office to around three million people in parts of Wales and south-west England on Friday meaning that dangerous, potentially life-threatening winds were expected imminently.

While that warning has now ended, yellow and amber alerts remain in place as winds could still reach up to 70-80mph and the risk of structural damage, fallen trees, flying debris and large waves remains high.

According to the National Grid, tens of thousands of people have been left without power and a number of events and attractions – including Christmas markets, sporting fixtures and all Royal Parks – have already been cancelled today, with millions urged to stay at home.

We have put together a selection of pictures showcasing the weather and disruption around the UK. Some have been sent into us through the BBC Weather Watchers group. Scroll down to have a look.

• Follow our live coverage of Storm Darragh

• ‘It’s like sandpaper’: BBC reporter battered by Storm Darragh winds
• Millions urged to stay at home as Storm Darragh hits
• UK weather warnings: What you need to know
• Storm names 2024/25: How do storms like Bert get their names?

Romania’s constitutional court has scrapped the recent presidential election and ordered its rerun, following allegations and evidence of possible Russian interference.

This is a shock ruling by Romania’s constitutional court, but it comes after two weeks of high political tension here.

All predictions, any certainty, have flown out of the window.

So far, the streets are calm in Bucharest as people absorb the news.

Annulling the entire presidential election is a bold choice, but it follows another unprecedented move when the outgoing president ordered intelligence documents to be declassified and made public.

The document that talked of a massive online influence campaign to sway the vote in favour of fringe politician Calin Georgescu blamed a “state-sponsored actor”.

Another, on attempts to hack electoral websites, talked of links to cyber-crime sites in Russia. A third file said that Russia was engaged in hybrid war here.

Romanians have joined the dots and they blame Moscow. That brings dark memories for many people.

At a rally on Thursday night, outside the university, I met people who recalled their years living under communist dictatorship and were genuinely scared that today’s Russia could be meddling here.

In a bookshop, a children’s writer told me she would “leave the country immediately” if there was any sign Romania was turning away from its European path, becoming less free.

It’s certainly true that Georgescu’s policies – ending aid to Ukraine, comments that question the point of Nato or undermine the EU – are helpful to Moscow.

In the Kremlin, though they deny any role in these events, I am sure people are happy Russia is seen as so powerful; its tentacles so far-reaching they can even stir up Romanian politics. A Nato country, long seen as a stable and reliable partner.

But when I met the man at the heart of all this controversy, Calin Georgescu brushed off any idea his meteoric rise – from fringe to election frontrunner – was down to Russian meddling.

In fact, he laughed out loud.

He did tell me that Vladimir Putin was a “leader and a patriot”, though he claimed he was “not a fan”.

Suave and smooth-talking, he says he’s being blocked because he’s challenging the political establishment. He thinks his “Romania First” politics have genuine appeal to people here.

On that last point, he’s probably right.

I haven’t actually met anyone in Bucharest – outside Georgescu’s immediate team – who’s admitted to voting for him. But his online content – which flooded TikTok – had many messages that will appeal in a culturally conservative country, especially beyond the capital.

He talks of sovereignty and of God and of fighting “the System”. He tells people their lives should be better.

Will his followers, whoever they are, believe the reports that he is a Russian project and accept the cancellation of the vote? Or might they emerge from behind their computer screens and phones to protest?

So far, the calls are to stay at home and stay calm. The election re-run might not be until spring. That’s a long time in Romanian politics.

“Daya, darwaaza tod do.” (Daya, break down the door)

Most Indians will instantly recognise this dialogue from the popular detective show CID, which ran from 1998 to 2018, making it one of India’s longest-running television shows.

The whodunnit featured three intrepid policemen – ACP Pradyuman, inspector Daya and inspector Abhijeet – solving case after case, as no criminal was ever a match for them. The low-budget episodes had comically simple plots, iffy acting, and all it took for a suspect to confess was a good slap from ACP Pradyuman.

But over the years, the show has achieved cult status, and its characters and dialogues have spawned a wealth of jokes, memes and reels.

CID is set to return later this month, sparking mixed reactions among its fans. Some are eager to see the three policemen back in action but others say that the show’s old-world charm might not fit in with the gritty realism of modern-day crime shows.

Over the past few days, the creators of the show have been releasing teasers for upcoming episodes on Instagram, each garnering hundreds of thousands of likes and comments.

Apart from the three main characters, the teasers feature familiar tropes and dialogues. These include Inspector Daya kicking open doors to reveal a suspect’s hideout and ACP Pradyuman muttering his iconic line, ‘kuch toh gadbad hai, Daya’ (something’s not right, Daya), signaling to both his team and the audience that a crime has taken place.

Trisha Shah, 35, a content creator from Mumbai and a fan of the show, says that the teasers make her nostalgic.

“CID was one of the few crime shows on television back then and my parents didn’t mind me watching it because of its family-friendly content,” Ms Shah says.

“Despite being a crime show, it never showed gruesome violence, sexual crimes, foul language or anything that was not suitable for family viewing.”

In an interview to Film Companion, an entertainment journalism platform, one of the writers of the show said that they even avoided giving surnames to the characters to avoid hurting anyone’s sentiments.

But the show’s outlandish plots more than made up for its primness, whether that was ACP Pradyuman coming back from the dead or inspector Daya single-handedly manoeuvring a poison-gas filled plane to safety.

In an interview to Forbes magazine, the producer of the show, BP Singh, described these scenes and plots as “believable nonsense”.

“You may later laugh at it [the scene]. But for those five minutes, it is so engrossing that you don’t mind it,” he told the magazine.

In a rather comical fashion, the characters would also explain plots and technologies used to solve crimes through their dialogues, making it easy for even children to grasp what was happening.

“The bad guys always got caught and that was comforting to watch,” Ms Shah says. “I don’t think I’ll enjoy the show today, but back then, it was a big deal.”

In the 1990s, TV was a big deal as it was the only form of home entertainment. At the start of the decade, India eased broadcasting rights, making more channels available.

“Initially, channels like Star began showing reruns of American shows like Baywatch and The Bold and The Beautiful. But new entrants like Zee TV and Sony began producing original shows to cater to the Indian audience,” says Harsh Taneja, an associate professor of media at University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign.

Producers often adapted Western shows for Indian audiences by importing format Bibles – guidelines outlining story structure – and modifying them for local context, he says. So, a show like CID often featured plots that closely resembled those of CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, an American crime drama.

The 1990s and 2000s saw television become a staple in households as people’s spending power grew. Many homes had not just one but two televisions, leading producers to create content targeting different age groups, says Mr Taneja.

Interestingly, the target audience of CID, when it was released in the 1990s, was children in the age group of six to 14. After CID, several other crime-focussed shows began to populate channels – from Crime Patrol to Savadhan India. But one could say that it was CID that created an appetite for crime shows among viewers.

Priya Ravi, 40, remembers waiting eagerly for each CID episode to air when she was a child. She confesses that it was the show that made her push her parents to get a television set at their home.

“Episodes used to air twice a week, and initially I used to go to a friend’s place to watch them. But then I convinced my parents to get a TV so that I could watch the episodes at home. I was so happy the day the TV arrived,” Ms Ravi says.

She says that though she won’t watch the new CID episodes, she’ll definitely encourage her two children, aged seven and nine, to watch them.

“If the show remains as clean as it was back in the day, I think it’s a great way to introduce children to some of the realities of life and make them vigilant about their safety and surroundings,” she says.

“I’m looking forward to the heroic trio making a comeback.”

TikTok’s bid to overturn a law which would see it banned or sold in the US from early 2025 has been rejected.

The social media company had hoped a federal appeals court would agree with its argument that the law was unconstitutional because it represented a “staggering” impact on the free speech of its 170 million US users.

But the court upheld the law, which it said “was the culmination of extensive, bipartisan action by the Congress and by successive presidents”.

TikTok says it will now take its fight to the US Supreme Court, the country’s highest legal authority.

The US wants TikTok sold or banned because of what it says are its owners links to the Chinese state – links TikTok and parent company Bytedance have always denied.

The court agreed the law was “carefully crafted to deal only with control by a foreign adversary, and it was part of a broader effort to counter a well-substantiated national security threat posed by the PRC (People’s Republic of China).”

But TikTok said it was not the end of its legal fight.

“The Supreme Court has an established historical record of protecting Americans’ right to free speech, and we expect they will do just that on this important constitutional issue,” a TikTok spokesperson said in a statement.

They added that the law was based on “inaccurate, flawed and hypothetical information” and a ban would censor US citizens.

Donald Trump’s victory in the 2024 US Presidential Election may also present a lifeline for the app.

Despite unsuccessfully attempting to ban TikTok during his first term in 2020, he said in the run-up to the November elections he would not allow the ban on TikTok to take effect.

Trump will be inaugurated on 20 January – the day after the law says TikTok must be be banned or sold.

However, it remains to be seen whether he will follow through on his pre-election vow.

Professor James Grimmelmann of Cornell University said the president-elect would be “swimming upstream to give TikTok a reprieve”.

“The anti-China sentiment in the US Congress is very strong, so there are now substantial constituencies in both parties that want TikTok to be restricted from the US market,” he told BBC News.

The court case has been closely watched both by those who use TikTok- and the app’s rivals.

Tiffany Cianci, a small business advocate and TikTok creator, said she was “not shocked” by Friday’s decision – but told BBC News she would not be shifting her TikTok content or presence to the platform’s rivals, such as Instagram.

“I’m not going to do what they want and take my content to their platforms where it’s not as successful where it’s more likely to be censored, where I am more likely to have less control over my audience,” she said.

Nonetheless, other platforms are positioning themselves for a post-TikTok social media landscape.

Meta, which owns Facebook as well as Instagram, WhatsApp and Threads, has sought to build rivals to TikTok’s short form videos within its own apps, and made changes that users have likened to TikTok amid questions over the app’s US future.

Jasmine Enberg, principal analyst at eMarketer, said there would be “major upheaval” if a TikTok appeal were to fail at the Supreme Court and a ban was enforced.

She said this would be “benefitting Meta, YouTube and Snap, while hurting content creators and small businesses that rely on the app to make a living.”

But TikTok won’t be easily recreated, said Cory Johnson, Chief Market Strategist at Epistrophy Capital Research. Johnson said deep learning models power TikTok’s recommendation engine.

“Enabling such complex AI and big data processing at TikTok’s immense scale requires a colossal and expensive technical infrastructure,” Johnson said.

He said TikTok’s hyper-targeting and China’s data laws pose significant risks, and pointed to Elon Musk’s alterations to algorithms at his social media platform X, formerly known as Twitter, as a cautionary tale.

In the run-up to the U.S. election, Musk’s political posts received more views than all U.S. political campaign ads on X’s disclosure dataset, Johnson said.

“We have very real and very recent experience in America with a social media network tweaking its algorithms to favor certain voices,” he added.

Koh Jae-hak can still vividly remember when he saw soldiers gunning down a group of young women in cold blood.

It was April 1960. Students had launched protests calling for the resignation of the dictatorial president Syngman Rhee. Mr Koh was working in a government building when he looked out of the window and saw protesters clashing with police.

“There were demonstrations from various universities, and they all gathered in front… that’s when shots were fired,” the 87-year-old said. Days later, martial law was declared.

South Korea is widely considered a peaceful beacon of democracy in Asia, but that wasn’t always the case. This is a country that saw 16 bouts of martial law during its first four decades ruled largely by dictators.

It is why democracy is now deeply treasured by South Koreans as a hard-won right. It is also why President Yoon Suk Yeol’s declaration of martial law this week – the first to happen in 45 years and during democratic rule – was particularly triggering and prompted such a visceral response.

Almost immediately, lawmakers jumped out of bed and rushed to the national assembly, clambering over fences to reverse martial law.

Hundreds of ordinary citizens gathered to hold back troops who had been ordered to throw out MPs.

Some soldiers, apparently unwilling to carry out their orders, reportedly dragged their feet in clearing the crowd and entering the building.

When Yoon declared martial law on Tuesday night, he said it was necessary to get rid of “pro-North anti-state” forces. Initially, it caused confusion with some South Koreans who believed there was a genuine threat from the North.

But as they continued watching Yoon’s televised announcement, many grew sceptical. He gave no evidence of such forces at work, nor explained who they were. As Yoon had previously used similar language to describe the opposition that had been stymying his reforms, the public concluded he was actually trying to crush his political foes.

Previous periods of martial law had also been justified by leaders as necessary to stabilise the country, and sometimes stamp out what they alleged were communist subversives planted by North Korea.

They curtailed freedom of press and freedom of movement. Night curfews and arrests were common.

Violent clashes sometimes took place, most indelibly in 1980, when then President Chun Doo-hwan extended martial law to deal with student protesters calling for democracy in the southern city of Gwangju. A brutal military crackdown was launched, and it has since been labelled a massacre – while the official death toll is 193, some experts believe hundreds more died.

South Korea eventually transitioned to democracy in 1988, when the government held its first free and fair presidential election following mounting public pressure. But the preceding decades had permanently and profoundly shaped the nation’s consciousness.

“Most Koreans have trauma, deep trauma, about martial law,” said Kelly Kim, 53, an environmental activist. “We don’t want to repeat the same thing over and over.”

Ms Kim was a young child when martial law was last in place and has little memory of it. Still, she shudders at the thought of it returning.

“The government would control all the media, our normal activities. I’m working in civil society, so all our activities, like criticising the government, would not be possible under the martial law. So that’s really horrible.”

The freedoms afforded by democracy have not just led to a thriving civil society.

In the more than 35 years since that first democratic election, South Korea’s creative industries have flourished, with its dramas, TV shows, music and literature becoming world famous. Those creative industries have turned their own lenses onto the country’s past, bringing history to life for those too young to remember.

The country has seen a proliferation of shows about its dictatorship past, immortalising incidents such as the Gwangju uprising in popular culture.

Some were blockbusters featuring South Korea’s biggest stars, such as last year’s 12.12 The Day, a historical drama starring popular actor Hwang Jung-min. The movie depicts the political chaos that took place in 1979 as martial law was declared following the assassination of then president Park Chung-hee.

“As soon as I saw the images [of Yoon’s declaration of martial law], it reminded me of that movie… it made me question, are we about to repeat that history now?” said Marina Kang, a 37-year-old web designer.

“Korea’s got a wealth of visual representational works [of that era] in films and documentaries. Though we only have indirect experience of the horrific past through these works… that still makes me feel very strongly that such events should not happen again.”

Among younger citizens, there is a sense of disbelief that it could have returned. Despite never knowing life under martial law, they have been taught by their parents and older relatives to fear it.

“At first [when I heard Yoon’s announcement], I was excited at the thought of getting a day off from school. But that joy was fleeting, and I was overwhelmed by the fear of daily life collapsing. I couldn’t sleep,” said 15-year-old Kwon Hoo.

“My father was concerned that under martial law, he wouldn’t be able to stay out late even though his work required him to… when he heard the news about the possibility of a curfew being imposed again, he started swearing while watching the news.”

Not all South Koreans feel this way about their past.

“The vast majority of Koreans appreciate democracy enormously and regret the authoritarianism of the post-war period,” said Mason Richey, associate professor of international politics at Hankuk University of Foreign Studies in Seoul.

But, he added, “the country remains very divided regarding numerous aspects of the authoritarian past, notably how justified certain repressive measures were in order to prevent communist subversion.”

There is the view among a significant portion of the population, especially among older folk, that martial law was necessary in the past for stability and democracy.

“Back then, it was a time defined by ideological warfare between democracy and communist socialism,” said Kang Hyo-san, 83. He was sitting next to his friend Mr Koh in a cafe at Gwanghwamun, Seoul’s main square and focal point for the city’s protest rallies.

The competing ideologies would lead to clashes and “when the military intervened, the situation would stabilise… it was a process to restore order and properly establish free democracy.

“Given the circumstances, we couldn’t help but view it positively,” he said, adding that he felt each period of martial law left the country in a more “favourable” position. Martial law in South Korea “fundamentally differed” from other nations, where it “wasn’t about killing people or senseless violence”, he insisted.

But this time, it’s different. Both octogenarians felt that Yoon’s declaration of martial law was unacceptable. “Even though we’ve experienced martial law many times throughout our lives, this time there’s no justification for its declaration,” said Mr Koh.

Like them, Ms Kim, the environmental activist, was glad Yoon did not succeed and democracy prevailed in the end. “Because we fought so hard to get it, right? We don’t want to lose it again.

“Without democracy and freedom of living, what is life?”

A selection of news photographs from around the world.

The mood in Damascus appears to be one of confusion and fear, with many people unable to find out exactly what is going on as rebel factions approach ever closer.

In several suburbs, symbols of the power of the Assad dynasty have been torn down or toppled.

The interior ministry says it’s creating a ring of steel around the capital. But government forces have notably failed to provide any such defence in cities, towns and villages that have fallen to rebel factions across the country.

Rumours are swirling over the whereabouts of President Bashar al-Assad, with people logging flights in and out of Damascus to work out whether he might have left.

His office has denied all such reports, saying he’s still at work in Damascus, but there has been no sign of him.

Syria has remained a divided country, with the deep scars of the years of civil war unhealed, despite the apparent stalemate and status quo that had been in place for around four years until just a week-and-a-half ago.

Assad’s pariah status had come to an end among his fellow Arab leaders, but no progress had been made within Syria towards building a viable future for its people in the aftermath of war.

But the presence of President Assad had seemed to be a seal, however unsatisfactory, on the deadly conflict that had raged for years.

If he is now out of the picture, a power vacuum will re-emerge, with no clear indication of how it will be filled. There is no unified opposition that is in place to take over. The rebel factions have a history of division and internecine fighting.

The group that has spearheaded the new uprising against President Assad has its foundation in the extremism of Al Qaeda. Its leader has tried to reassure other communities in Syria that it will not impose its ideology on them, but they remain understandably apprehensive of what might come.

There will be wider fears that Syria could plunge into an even more calamitous state, with various factions battling each other for control. In an already desperately unstable and volatile region, that could feed more dangerous unrest.

But for now at least, many Syrians both inside and outside the county are united by a hope that many felt they might never experience again – that they might be able to return to their homes, long lost in the bitter war that Assad’s violent repression of protest and dissent originally triggered.

• Listen to Theo read this article

“Jaguar has no desire to be loved by everybody,” said Gerry McGovern as he strode across the stage on a slightly chilly evening in Miami last week. It was a bold statement from Jaguar Land Rover’s creative director, but it summed up the aura around the relaunch of one of the UK’s most famous brands.

On 18 November, a short teaser ad was released that ignited social media. Lasting just 30 seconds, it showed models in bizarre and brightly coloured outfits but did not feature a single car.

The New York Post described it as “the latest example of idiotic and woke corporate virtue signalling”. Elon Musk took a dig on X, asking Jaguar’s official account: “Do you sell cars?”

Then came the actual launch at a Miami art fair. Mr McGovern stood on stage beside two cars, resplendent in “Miami Pink” and “London Blue” shades. Both were examples of Jaguar’s new Type 00 – a concept car that won’t ever go on sale, but is meant to showcase the brand’s plans for the future. Angular, aggressive, with a huge bonnet and more than a hint of Batmobile, the new design also polarised opinions.

“Even Gen Z hate the new ‘woke’ Jaguar!” declared the Daily Mail. “Mark my words, Jaguar will go bust,” Reform Party leader Nigel Farage predicted on X. But the former Top Gear presenter James May told the BBC that the fact the ad was being talked about so widely has “got to be a bit of a result for Jaguar, hasn’t it”?

Jaguar’s managing director Rawdon Glover also hit back, insisting the company needed to be “bold and disruptive” in order to get its message across.

But some insiders argue that Jaguar’s problems run deeper than a five-minute frenzy on social media.

Even before the furore over the advert, “the brand was on a steady road to nowhere”, argues Matthias Schmidt, founder of industry intelligence firm Schmidt Automotive Research.

“The traditional Jaguar demographic was slowly being diluted through natural attrition and customers jumping ship to other brands.”

So, the publicity that the ad and the launch have drawn appear to have been welcomed within the business.

As Gerry McGovern drily quipped from the stage: “We’re delighted to have your attention.”

Controversy, he added, had always surrounded British creativity when it was at its best.

Behind all the noise, what is happening at Jaguar is pretty simple. It is being re-launched as an all-electric brand as part of a major restructuring at JLR, instigated by its parent company, the Indian conglomerate Tata.

Jaguar’s current models, including the I-Pace, the E-Pace and the F-Type, are no longer being sold in the UK. Instead, the first of a new generation of cars will hit the road in 2026.

Alongside this transition to battery power comes a move upmarket, with the new models expected to cost upwards of £100,000.

The reasons for doing all this are twofold. Firstly, Jaguar has been struggling to sell enough cars or to make enough money. Secondly, JLR needs to build more electric cars to satisfy regulators, who are working to phase out the sale of new petrol and diesel models.

It’s a far cry from the brand’s glory days, when the E-Type placed Jaguar firmly at the heart of swinging-sixties British cool. Steve McQueen owned one. So did Frank Sinatra. Peter Sellers gave one to his wife, Swedish superstar Britt Ekland. George Best, who knew a thing or two about fast cars and a fast lifestyle, had several.

But for decades, the stereotype of a Jaguar buyer has been a well-to-do company boss – almost certainly male, with expensive cufflinks and a set of golf clubs in the boot. Not so long ago he might have been seen smoking a cigar as well.

That might be a little unfair on Jaguar. It has has clearly tried to appeal to female buyers and to families, with offerings such as the F-Pace. Nicknamed the “She-Type”, this was praised by Good Housekeeping magazine after its launch for its seats designed with women in mind.

But Jaguar continues to be perceived by many as a supplier of upmarket exec-mobiles – and this is a segment of the market where competition is fierce.

“They’ve been chasing BMW and Audi sales for years and despite some decent cars have struggled to be profitable,” explains Rachel Burgess, magazine editor at Autocar.

“Now, they’re trying to target the likes of Bentley and Porsche, looking at high net-worth individuals, who would be spending far more on a car than the level at which Jaguars used to be priced.”

The reinvention of Jaguar has been brewing for many years. Tata bought the brand from Ford in 2008, following nearly two decades under American ownership. During that period, Ford invested significant sums and overhauled its manufacturing and quality control processes. But it failed to make the business profitable and, at the height of the global financial crisis, put Jaguar up for sale.

After taking control of both Jaguar and Land Rover, Tata merged the two into JLR: that brought stability and removed immediate doubts over Jaguar’s future.

But while JLR has performed relatively well over the past decade, despite the downturn caused by the Covid pandemic, it is the part of the business that used to be Land Rover that has been driving recent growth.

This has been largely thanks to strong demand for luxury SUVs in markets such as North America and China, as well as in the UK.

In April, the company reported an increase in annual sales across its Range Rover, Defender and Discovery brands of nearly 25%, helping to drive revenues and profits up across the business. Jaguar’s sales did rise as well – by 7%. But that came after five years of steady decline.

In the 2018-19 financial year, Jaguar sold more than 180,000 vehicles. In 2023-24, the figure was 66,866 – a relatively small proportion of JLRs overall sales of 431,737.

By 2021, other pressures were mounting on JLR, not least the introduction of increasingly stringent environmental rules in the UK and the EU. At the time, JLR had only one electric model in its line-up, the I-Pace.

In February 2021, JLR’s chief executive Thierry Bolloré announced a new strategy: a wholesale revamp of its range, with all models to become available in electric form by the end of the decade. But crucially, he said Jaguar would be “re-imagined” as an all-electric brand.

Although Mr Bolloré would leave at the end of the following year, his plan was picked up by his successor, Adrian Mardell – who promised the company would invest £15bn to turn it into reality.

Within JLR, there is widespread recognition that something had to change.

“Jaguar’s performance over the past 10 years has been challenging,” admits Rawdon Glover. He points out that Jaguar had been trying to succeed in a high-volume market, where the bigger players can keep their costs down through economies of scale.

“While our vehicles were highly competent, and critically acclaimed, actually the ability to commercially succeed in that environment was challenging,” he says.

The move upmarket, in theory at least, gives Jaguar the opportunity to sell fewer cars, but with much bigger profit margins.

“I’m fully in agreement that they had to do something,” says Andy Palmer, an industry veteran and former CEO of Aston Martin who has also been a leading executive at Nissan.

“But it’s very brave to be planning to walk away from 85% of your customer base. They are going to have to find new customers to replace them. And acquisition of new customers is always more expensive than retaining existing ones.”

The big question, though, is whether the changes being made are the correct ones.

Arguably, one of the reasons why Jaguar’s rebrand has attracted such attention is because although relatively few people buy the actual cars, the name itself still resonates with cultural significance, thanks to a heritage going back more than seven decades.

In its early days, under founder Sir William Lyons, Jaguar was truly innovative, and it knew how to grab attention. In 1948, it launched the XK120, an elegant two-seater sports car with swooping lines and a powerful six-cylinder engine. As the name implied, it had a top speed of 120mph, making it the world’s fastest production car at the time.

In a country still recovering from the ravages of World War Two, this was a revelation. Jaguar had originally planned to build just 200, but demand was so high, it ended up making more than 12,000.

Victories in motorsport put Jaguar’s name in lights, especially at the prestigious 24 Hours of Le Mans – but the company continued to produce striking machines off track as well.

A number of these have stood the test of time, not least the Mark II and its successor, the S-Type. First produced in 1959, this was a luxury saloon that happened to have plenty of bad-boy appeal.

Arguably Jaguar’s greatest moment, however, came with the launch of the E-Type in 1961, which came with 150mph performance, and movie-star cachet. It was the car to be seen in and gave the Jaguar badge a lustre that lasted for decades.

But nostalgia alone will not sell cars. Jaguar has been harking back to former glories for a long time.

“I would certainly say they’ve been trading off nostalgia for decades,” says Matthias Schmidt.

Prior to the relaunch, he says Jaguar has been “like a luxury hotel that doesn’t feel the need to refurbish its brand”. He adds: “The failure to look over one’s shoulders and see what the competition is doing can be fatal.”

This week’s relaunch seems designed to get the brand out of a comfortable rut and attempt to make it edgy again, while retaining at least some of its past cachet. Or, as Gerry McGovern put it from the Miami stage, “recapture the essence of Jaguar’s original creative conviction”.

Under normal circumstances, the debut of a new car might gain a certain amount of attention in motoring magazines and websites, but it would rarely, if ever, get onto the front pages.

The company has not said who was behind the teaser ad that went viral – generating more than three million views on YouTube – but JLR has been working with Accenture’s creative marketing arm, Accenture Song, for three years.

Accenture has not commented.

Branding experts have mixed views about the campaign.

“What we had was a really bold advertising campaign, that has now been followed through seamlessly with a concept car that completely matches the campaign,” says Mark Beaumont, founder of branding agency Dinosaur.

“It is potentially a masterclass in advertising awareness”.

But Tim Parker, strategy director at Conran Design thinks it is a risky strategy. “They have indeed copied nothing that has come before in the brand’s rich heritage, but at what cost?

“Few brands ever succeed by alienating their traditional customer base over the longer term,” he continues. “If the goal is to build relevance in a crowded luxury EV market, then differentiation makes sense – but only if the underlying strategy is coherent.”

What we have not seen yet, however, or at least in any detail, is an actual road-going car. The concept is just that – an idea.

Jaguar is in the process of developing three new models, the first of which is unlikely to go on sale until late 2026. All we have been told is that it will be powerful, with more than 575hp, and have a range of more than 430 miles.

It has begun road-testing, and a handful of leaked photos show a large boxy machine that is both similar to the concept – and very different.

For any car company, trying to negotiate the transition to electric vehicles without alienating any of its customers is going to be challenging. And for a brand like Jaguar, with the scent of petrol and the sound of six and 12 cylinder engines built into its DNA, it likely to be even harder.

But among all of this is another question that hasn’t yet been asked. That is, does that DNA even matter any more – and how useful really is it when it comes to selling cars today?

Andy Palmer puts it more bluntly: Jaguar, he thinks, may well be disposable.

“I think it’s a very fair question to ask – does JLR actually need the Jaguar brand? Does the world need the Jaguar brand?”

We won’t find out the answer until 2026. In the meantime, we know what Jaguar’s plan is. Now it has to deliver.

The Prince of Wales met US President-elect Donald Trump while visiting France for the ceremonial reopening of Notre-Dame cathedral.

Prince William joined other world leaders in Paris to mark the restoration of the world-famous landmark, which was devastated by a fire five years ago.

After shaking hands at the ceremony, the pair also met afterwards, with the president-elect describing the prince as a “good man” doing a “fantastic job”.

During the event, French President Emmanuel Macron delivered a speech in which he said of the restoration: “We must treasure this lesson of fragility, humility and will”.

• LIVE UPDATES: Trump and Prince William attend Notre-Dame reopening in Paris

Other leaders and dignitaries at the event included Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky and outgoing US First Lady Dr Jill Biden, who was representing President Joe Biden.

Prince William was expected to discuss the importance of the US-UK “special relationship” with both Trump and the first lady during their respective meetings.

Greeting the prince at the ceremony, Trump gave William a pat on the shoulder before the two shook hands and spoke for a few seconds.

He last met Trump in 2019 when the then-president made a state visit to the UK.

Prince William, who attended at the request of the UK government, joined French President Emmanuel Macron and dozens of other heads of state at the ceremony on Saturday.

William and Trump met at the residence of the British ambassador in Paris.

The prince was standing in the foyer when Trump arrived. The pair shook hands and greeted one another again, before Trump gestured to the Prince of Wales and said: “Good man, this one”.

Prince William asked the president-elect if he had warmed up, and Trump replied that he had and that “it was a beautiful ceremony”.

Kensington Palace has described the meeting between as “warm and friendly.”

During their 40 minutes together, William and Trump discussed a range of global issues but focused on the importance of the UK/US special relationship.

The president-elect also shared some warm and fond memories of the late Queen for which the prince was said to be “extremely grateful.”

William had also been due to meet Trump and Dr Biden earlier in the day but Kensington Palace said he had been delayed by weather on his journey from the UK to France.

At the ceremony, The Archbishop of Paris Laurent Ulrich led more than 1,500 guests through the reopening service.

A choir sang out as Macron took his seat next to Trump. A message from the Pope was read aloud before the French president delivered his address.

Parts of the event had to be reconfigured due to the stormy weather – with a concert that was due to take place on the esplanade actually being staged on Friday.

The prince’s last official trip to Paris was in 2017, when he visited with the Princess of Wales for a two-day trip in the aftermath of the Brexit result.

He joined other world leaders in Normandy earlier this year for the 80th anniversary commemorations of the Second World War D-Day landings.

The medieval cathedral has been closed since a major fire tore through it in 2019, destroying its wooden interiors before toppling its spire.

Some 600 firefighters battled the blaze for 15 hours. The main structure of the 850-year-old building was saved, including its two bell towers.

Macron set a five-year goal for the reconstruction of the Catholic church shortly after the fire.

An estimated 2,000 masons, carpenters, restorers, roofers, foundry-workers, art experts, sculptors and engineers worked on the project, which reportedly cost €700m (£582m).

Tickets for the first week of Masses in the cathedral sold out in 25 minutes, the cathedral’s rector said.

Prince William has been scrambled, like in his old air ambulance days, to rush to this meeting in Paris with President-elect Donald Trump.

Although what’s in need of rescue on this occasion is the well-being of the special relationship between the US and the UK.

It’s an important connection for both sides – and for wider military links such as Nato – but there’s not a lot of obvious empathy between Starmer’s Labour government and the incoming Republicans.

So the royals, who are funded by taxpayers, are being deployed to smooth the path, with Prince William taking on the statesman role, meeting Trump before attending the reopening of the Notre Dame cathedral.

Trump is a royal fan, so that might make for a more positive connection. Prince William last met Trump in 2019, during the then-president’s visit to the UK, where Trump spoke very enthusiastically about his meeting with the late Queen Elizabeth II.

But there’s a massive contrast in their styles. Prince William’s flagship project is his Earthshot environmental awards, while Trump has dismissed efforts to boost green energy as a “scam”.

This week Prince William went to serve dinner at the Passage homelessness charity and on Friday night he was helping with a “kindness tree” outside Westminster Abbey.

A kindness tree and campaigning on housing and climate-change aren’t exactly the ‘Make America Great Again’ style.

But the aim of this hurriedly-arranged meeting will be for a royal charm offensive to help build bridges at an uncertain time for western alliances.

With rebel forces now inside the Syrian capital Damascus, and reports that President Bashar al-Assad has fled the country, anti-government forces appear to have brought about the end of his regime less than a fortnight after their lightning offensive began.

Islamist fighters took control of the northern city of Aleppo in late November before swinging south through Hama and Homs – areas previously under government control.

In southern Syria, close to the Jordanian border, local rebels have captured most of the Deraa region, the birthplace of the 2011 uprising against Assad.

In many instances, it is reported that the Syrian military either left their posts or defected to the opposition.

The initial attack was led by the Islamist militant group Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS) – which has a long and involved history in the Syrian conflict.

HTS is designated as a terrorist organisation by the UN, US, Turkey and other countries.

HTS was set up under a different name, Jabhat al-Nusra, in 2011 as a direct affiliate of Al Qaeda.

The leader of the self-styled Islamic State (IS) group, Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, was also involved in its formation.

It was regarded as one of the most effective and deadly of the groups ranged against President Assad.

But its jihadist ideology appeared to be its driving force rather than revolutionary zeal – and it was seen at the time as at odds with the main rebel coalition under the banner of Free Syria.

And in 2016, the group’s leader, Abu Mohammed al-Jawlani, publicly broke ranks with Al Qaeda, dissolved Jabhat al-Nusra and set up a new organisation, which took the name Hayat Tahrir al-Sham when it merged with several other similar groups a year later.

For some time now, HTS has established its power base in the north-western province of Idlib where it is the de facto local administration, although its efforts towards legitimacy have been tarnished by alleged human rights abuses.

It has also been involved in some bitter infighting with other groups.

Its ambitions beyond Idlib had become unclear.

Since breaking with Al Qaeda, its goal has been limited to trying to establish fundamentalist Islamic rule in Syria rather than a wider caliphate, as IS tried and failed to do.

It had shown little sign of attempting to reignite the Syrian conflict on a major scale and renew its challenge to Assad’s rule over much of the country – until now.

In March 2011, pro-democracy demonstrations erupted in the southern city of Deraa, inspired by uprisings in neighbouring countries against repressive rulers.

When the Syrian government used deadly force to crush the dissent, protests demanding the president’s resignation erupted nationwide.

The unrest spread and the crackdown intensified. Opposition supporters took up arms, first to defend themselves and later to rid their areas of security forces. Mr Assad vowed to crush what he called “foreign-backed terrorism”.

Hundreds of rebel groups sprang up, foreign powers began to take sides and extremist jihadist organisations such as the Islamic State (IS) group and al-Qaeda, became involved.

The violence rapidly escalated and the country descended into a full-scale civil war drawing in regional and world powers.

More than half a million people have been killed and 12 million have been forced to flee their homes, about five million of whom are refugees or asylum seekers abroad.

The war in Syria had for the past four years felt as if it were effectively over.

President Bashar al-Assad’s rule had essentially been uncontested in the country’s major cities, while some other parts of Syria remained out of his direct control.

These include Kurdish majority areas in the east, which have been more or less separate from Syrian state control since the early years of the conflict.

There had been some continued, though relatively muted unrest, in the south where the revolution against Assad’s rule began in 2011.

In the vast Syrian desert, holdouts from the group calling themselves Islamic State still pose a security threat, particularly during the truffle hunting season when people head to the area to find the highly profitable delicacy.

And in the north-west, the province of Idlib has been held by militant groups driven there at the height of the war.

HTS, the dominant force in Idlib, is the one that has launched the surprise attack on Aleppo.

For several years, Idlib remained a battleground as Syrian government forces tried to regain control.

But a ceasefire deal in 2020 brokered by Russia, which has long been Assad’s key ally, and Turkey, which has backed the rebels, has largely held.

About four million people live there – most of them displaced from towns and cities that Assad’s forces won back from rebels in a brutal war of attrition.

Aleppo was one of the bloodiest battlegrounds and represented one of the rebels’ biggest defeats.

To achieve victory, President Assad could not depend on the country’s under-equipped and poorly motivated conscript army alone, which soon became dangerously stretched and regularly unable to hold positions against rebel attacks.

Instead, he came to rely heavily on Russian airpower and Iranian military help on the ground – mainly through militias sponsored by Tehran.

These included Hezbollah.

There is little doubt that the setback Hezbollah has suffered recently from Israel’s offensive in Lebanon, as well as Israeli strikes on Iranian military commanders in Syria, has played a significant part in the decision by jihadist and rebel groups in Idlib to make their sudden, unexpected move on Aleppo.

In the past few months, Israel has intensified its attacks on Iranian-linked groups as well as their supply lines, inflicting serious damage on the networks that have kept these militias, including Hezbollah, operative in Syria.

Without them, President Assad’s forces have been left exposed.

As pulsating rave music boomed out of speakers set up outside Seoul’s National Assembly, the protesters cheered and waved multicoloured light sticks.

“Impeach Yoon Suk Yeol! Arrest Yoon Suk Yeol!” they chanted.

The mood was festive, but the crowd was there for a serious cause – to get rid of the country’s president.

On Saturday morning, four days after Yoon’s abortive attempt to declare martial law, the president once again appeared on television. This time it was to say sorry to the nation, just hours before an impeachment vote.

But his mea culpa did little to appease the public. As lawmakers began making their way to the national assembly, various protest rallies started up across Seoul. While a few were in support of the embattled president, most were calling on him to step down or to be impeached.

• South Korean president survives impeachment vote
• Six hours that shook South Korea

By 3pm, most of the protesters had converged in front of the National Assembly. The main thoroughfare was packed with people sitting in neat rows, as police officers lined the street.

Protest flags fluttered in the cold winter breeze, while in the side streets vendors sold waffles and pastries stuffed with red-bean paste to hungry protesters.

It was a diverse crowd made up of young students, office workers and retirees. Police estimated around 100,000 people showed up.

With rock bands, large screens and crane cameras, South Korean protest rallies tend to resemble outdoor music festivals, and this one was no different. Throughout the afternoon, the crowd was entertained by jolly acapella tunes, sentimental folk songs, and protest anthems.

The crowd sang along to South Korea is a Democratic Republic – a catchy children’s song extolling the virtues of democracy; the stirring A March Song for You; and even the Korean version of Do You Hear the People Sing from the musical Les Miserables.

There were also fiery speeches. “We must wipe out the traitors! If the impeachment vote fails, all 1.5 million members of our union will run straight to the presidential office,” vowed one union leader.

“The traitors will be judged by the sharpened blade of the people!”

“Impeach! Impeach!” the crowd chanted back.

But as the winter light faded into night, so did the hopes of the protesters.

When it was time to vote on the impeachment bill, the ruling People Power Party (PPP) announced a boycott, stymying the opposition which lacked just eight votes to pass the bill.

Almost every PPP lawmaker got up from their seats and left the chamber, as members of the opposition shouted and tried to prevent them from leaving.

Watching these chaotic proceedings unfold on the screens outside, many of the protesters were aghast.

“The freedom of democracy is crumbling because of just one man. It’s killing me,” lamented office worker Choi Eun-chong.

“I think the lawmakers are irresponsible,” said freelance writer Park Ga-ram.

She had left her home in the southern city of Daegu at 5am and travelled for hours to Seoul, just to take part in the protest. “I was waiting all day for this. I hope they go back and vote. I’m trying to stay hopeful but I don’t expect it to happen.”

Others were angrier. “I think Yoon’s a total disgrace for democracy in this country. And the lawmakers, they should represent the people, not the president… we’re very upset,” said activist Luke Kim.

“We are not going to back down until he is impeached… we will march on until our democracy finally triumphs over this madness done by this crazy president.”

Onstage, the protest leaders called on the crowd to surround the National Assembly. They hoped that by blocking the gates and trapping PPP lawmakers inside, they could buy the opposition enough time to persuade enough PPP members to vote for impeachment.

The crowd surged forward to the gates. As protest leaders read out the names of every PPP lawmaker, protesters chanted “Go back in, vote!” after each name.

The mood lifted when PPP member Kim Sang-wook re-entered the chamber to vote, joining two others from his party who had stayed on. Hope rippled through the crowd, as protesters cheered and chanted Kim’s name like he was a rock star.

Organisers blasted K-pop, and the crowd started dancing, singing and waving light sticks. Some did a Mexican wave to a Girls Generation song. Suddenly, the protest transformed into a joyful pop concert.

For a while, the mood remained ebullient. Protesters believed more from the ruling party would cross the floor by the deadline of 1am.

But there were ominous signs. Kim told reporters that he had in fact voted against impeachment. And for hours, nobody else from the PPP joined.

Finally, at about 9pm, the Speaker said he would close the vote early. Immediately, the festive mood evaporated. The impeachment bill needed just five more votes to proceed, but they were nowhere in sight – and time was running out.

The crowd pressed closer to the gates. “Go in, go in!” they pleaded, urging PPP lawmakers to re-enter the chamber to vote.

At 9.20pm, the speaker closed the vote. The crowd went silent as they watched parliamentary officials sift through the ballots.

Some let out disappointed groans, while a few screamed angrily at the screens. The usual chant of “impeach, impeach” floated through the air, but it seemed to have lost its vigour.

The speaker announced the bill could not pass. It did not meet the quorum of 200 votes for counting. In the crowd, a woman let out a pained cry and buried her face in her partner’s chest, sobbing.

The protest leaders rushed to the stage, this time to rally people’s spirits.

“We will not stop until Yoon is punished. The people will not accept the existence of PPP. We will fight till the end, till Yoon is impeached,” vowed one speaker. “Dear people, will you join us in our fight to remove Yoon?”

The crowd roared back emphatically: “Yes!”

Meanwhile, inside the National Assembly, opposition leaders vowed to table the impeachment bill again and again until they got rid of Yoon. They have the public on their side: three quarters of South Koreans want an impeachment, according to the latest polls, while Yoon’s approval rating has slid even further to just 13%.

In an attempt to end on a high note, the protest leaders played All I Want for Christmas as a send-off. “Don’t forget your belongings, and please take your rubbish with you,” they urged the dispersing crowd, as Mariah Carey’s voice echoed down the rapidly emptying avenue.

It won’t be long till that road will fill up again. Another round of protests has already been scheduled for Sunday.

Sweden has a global reputation for championing gender equality, so why are young women embracing a social media trend that celebrates quitting work?

Vilma Larsson, 25, previously had jobs in a grocery store, a care home and a factory. But she quit work a year ago to become a stay-at-home-girlfriend, and says she’s never been happier.

“My life is softer. I am not struggling. I am not very stressed.”

Her boyfriend works remotely in finance, and while he spends his days on his laptop, she’s at the gym, out for coffee, or cooking. The couple grew up in small towns in central Sweden, but now travel a lot, and are spending the winter in Cyprus.

“Every month he gives me a salary from his money that he made. But if I need more, I’ll ask him. Or if I need less, I don’t – I just save the rest,” explains Ms Larsson.

She shares her lifestyle on Instagram, YouTube and TikTok, where she’s amassed 11,000 followers. Some of her posts have had almost 400,000 likes, although she says she’s not making an income from her content.

She uses the hashtags “hemmaflickvän” and “hemmafru” (Swedish for stay-at-home girlfriend and housewife) and describes herself as a “soft girl” – an identity that embraces a softer, more feminine way of living rather than focussing on a career.

The soft girl lifestyle has been a microtrend on social media in different parts of the world since the late 2010s. But in Sweden – with five decades of policies designed to promote dual income households behind it – the concept’s recent popularity has sparked both surprise and division.

Ungdomsbarometern – Sweden’s largest annual survey of young people – first put the national spotlight on Swedes embracing the soft girl trend a year ago, after it became a popular choice when 15 to 24-year-olds were asked to predict trends for 2024.

Another study released by Ungdomsbaromatern this August suggested it was even becoming an aspiration among younger schoolgirls, with 14% of seven to 14-year-olds identifying as soft girls.

“It’s about leaning away from this ‘girl boss’ ideal that we’ve seen for a lot of years, where there are very, very high demands for success in every aspect of life,” explains Johanna Göransson, a researcher for Ungdomsbarometern.

There is no official data on the number of young “soft girls” quitting work altogether and living off their partners like Ms Larsson, and Ms Göransson says it is likely to be a small proportion.

But it’s nevertheless become a major talking point in Sweden, from opinion pieces in broadsheet newspapers, to panel discussions at Almedalen – a huge annual cross-party political event – and on Swedish public service television.

Gudrun Schyman – the co-founder and former leader of Sweden’s feminist party Feministiskt initiativ – says she’s taken part in recent debates on the issue. She believes women living off their partners wealth is “very dangerous”, and “a step backwards” for gender equality.

Ms Schyman argues that young Swedes have been influenced by the country’s right-wing coalition government, which collaborates with the nationalist Sweden Democrats party, as well as the “broader development” of populism in Europe and the United States.

She also thinks there’s a lack of awareness about life in Sweden before it embraced policies designed to promote gender equality, such as heavily subsidised childcare and shared parental leave. “Young women today don’t carry the history of how women had to fight for their rights – the right to work, the right to have a salary, and the right to economic independence.”

At the other end of the political spectrum, the Sweden Democrats party has been positive towards the soft girls trend.

“I think that people should get to decide over their own life,” says Denice Westerberg, national spokesperson for the party’s youth wing. “And if you have that economic possibility to do that [live off a partner] then good for you.

“We still live in a country with all the opportunities to have a career. We still have all the rights, but we have the right to choose to live more traditionally.”

Aside from ideological debates, discussions have focussed on the social and cultural factors that could be influencing young women to quit work – or at least aspire to a softer lifestyle.

Sweden has a reputation for work life balance – most employees get six-weeks holiday a year, and less than 1% work more than 50 hours a week.

Still, Ungdomsbaromatern’s research suggests rising stress levels amongst young people, and Ms Göransson believes soft girls trend may be an extension of recent global work trends such as “quiet quitting”, which encourages employees not to overextend themselves.

Meanwhile, the Generation Z age group (the cohort born between 1997 and 2012) are making, and being influenced by, social media content that celebrates leisure time rather than career goals.

“Work doesn’t really feature that much if you look at lifestyle content on social media today, it’s much more about exercise and wellness,” explains Ms Göransson. “And if that’s the picture young people have of what a normal life looks like, then, of course, maybe you’re not so excited about spending eight hours in an office a day.”

But perhaps the biggest talking point is whether the trend is a response to the limitations of Sweden’s pioneering gender equality policies.

Alongside Slovenia, Sweden has the highest proportion of working mothers in Europe, yet government statistics suggest women in heterosexual couples still do a larger share of housework and childcare than men.

They also take 70% of state-funded parental leave, and are more likely to go on sick leave for stress. Meanwhile, although the income gap between men and women remains lower than the EU average of 12.7%, it has stalled at around 10% since 2019.

Ms Larsson – who wants to have children in the future – says her decision to become a stay-at-home girlfriend is partly due to watching older women struggle to juggle a career and homelife.

“I think a lot of women feel burned out from their work,” she says. “And I just think of my mother and her mother, my grandma, and my sister, everyone. They’re always so stressed.”

At Sweden’s state-funded Gender Equality Agency, Peter Wickström, head of the department for policy analysis and monitoring, also believes the soft girl trend can be viewed as a “rational reaction” to the perceived “demands” experienced by young women.

Shoka Åhrman, an economist at one of Sweden’s largest pension funds, SPP, says she does not believe enough Swedish girlfriends or wives will quit work for it to have an impact on the country’s economy.

However, she is working to raise awareness amongst Swedish women that leaving the labour force (as well as going part time) could impact their personal finances, from savings and pensions, to salary levels if they return to work.

Ms Åhrman hopes the current soft girl debates will serve as a wake-up call to both politicians and businesses alike that there is still work to be done to address ongoing structural inequalities in Sweden.

“I think the source of it, which is mental health issues, burnouts and all that, is what’s more worrying, because that affects not only the few younger girls today that want to stay home as soft girls,” she says.

The “brazen and targeted” killing of health insurance executive Brian Thompson, CEO of UnitedHealthcare, outside a New York hotel this week shocked America. The reaction to the crime also exposed a simmering rage against a trillion-dollar industry.

“Prior authorisation” does not seem like a phrase that would generate much passion.

But on a hot day this past July, more than 100 people gathered outside the Minnesota headquarters of UnitedHealthcare to protest against the insurance firm’s policies and denial of patient claims.

“Prior authorisation” allows companies to review suggested treatments before agreeing to pay for them.

Eleven people were arrested for blocking a road during the protest.

Police records indicate they came from around the country, including Maine, New York, Texas and West Virginia, to the rally organised by the People’s Action Institute.

Unai Montes-Irueste, media strategy director of the Chicago-based advocacy group, said those protesting had personal experience with denied claims and other problems with the healthcare system.

“They are denied care, then they have to go through an appeals process that’s incredibly difficult to win,” he told the BBC.

The latent anger felt by many Americans at the healthcare system – a dizzying array of providers, for profit and not-for-profit companies, insurance giants, and government programmes – burst into the open following the apparent targeted killing of Thompson in New York City on Wednesday.

Thompson was the CEO of UnitedHealthcare, the insurance unit of health services provider UnitedHealth Group. The company is the largest insurer in the US.

Police are still on the hunt for the suspected killer, whose motivation is unknown, but authorities have revealed messages written on shell casings found at the scene.

The words “deny”, “defend”, and “depose” were discovered on the casings, which investigators believe could refer to tactics which critics say insurance companies use to avoid payouts and to increase profits.

A scroll through Thompson’s LinkedIn history reveals that many were angry about denied claims.

One woman responded to a post the executive had made boasting of his firm’s work on making drugs more affordable.

“I have stage 4 metastatic lung cancer,” she wrote. “We’ve just left [UnitedHealthcare] because of all the denials for my meds. Every month there is a different reason for the denial.”

Thompson’s wife told US broadcaster NBC that he had received threatening messages before.

“There had been some threats,” Paulette Thompson said. “Basically, I don’t know, a lack of [medical] coverage? I don’t know details.”

“I just know that he said there were some people that had been threatening him.”

A security expert says that frustration at high costs across a range of industries inevitably results in threats against corporate leaders.

Philip Klein, who runs the Texas-based Klein Investigations, which protected Thompson when he gave a speech in the early 2000s, says that he’s astonished the executive didn’t have security for his trip to New York City.

“There’s lot of anger in the United States of America right now,” Mr Klein said.

“Companies need to wake up and realise that their executives could be hunted down anywhere.”

Mr Klein says he’s been inundated with calls since Thompson was killed. Top US firms typically spend millions of dollars on personal security for high-level executives.

In the wake of the shooting, a number of politicians and industry officials expressed shock and sympathy.

Michael Tuffin, president of insurance industry organistion Ahip, said he was “heartbroken and horrified by the loss of my friend Brian Thompson”.

“He was a devoted father, a good friend to many and a refreshingly candid colleague and leader.”

In a statement, UnitedHealth Group said it had received many messages of support from “patients, consumers, health care professionals, associations, government officials and other caring people”.

But online many people, including UnitedHealthcare customers and users of other insurance services, reacted differently.

Those reactions ranged from acerbic jokes (one common quip was “thoughts and prior authorisations”, a play on the phrase “thoughts and prayers”) to commentary on the number of insurance claims rejected by UnitedHealthcare and other firms.

At the extreme end, critics of the industry pointedly said they had no pity for Thompson. Some even celebrated his death.

The online anger seemed to bridge the political divide.

Animosity was expressed from avowed socialists to right-wing activists suspicious of the so-called “deep state” and corporate power. It also came from ordinary people sharing stories about insurance firms denying their claims for medical treatments.

Mr Montes-Irueste of People’s Action said he was shocked by the news of the killing.

He said his group campaigned in a “nonviolent, democratic” way – but he added he understood the bitterness online.

“We have a balkanised and broken healthcare system, which is why there are very strong feelings being expressed right now by folks who are experiencing that broken system in various different ways,” he said.

Mr Tuffin, head of the health insurance trade association, condemned any threats made against his colleagues, describing them as “mission-driven professionals working to make coverage and care as affordable as possible”.

The posts underlined the deep frustration many Americans feel towards health insurers and the system in general.

“The system is incredibly complicated,” said Sara Collins, a senior scholar at The Commonwealth Fund, a healthcare research foundation.

“Just navigating and understanding how you get covered can be challenging for people,” she said. “And everything might seem fine until you get sick and need your plan.”

Recent Commonwealth Fund research found that 45% of insured working-age adults were charged for something they thought should have been free or covered by insurance, and less than half of those who reported suspected billing errors challenged them. And 17% of respondents said their insurer denied coverage for care that was recommended by their doctor.

Not only is the US health system complicated, it’s expensive, and huge costs can often fall directly on individuals.

Prices are negotiated between providers and insurers, Ms Collins says, meaning that what’s charged to patients or insurance companies often bears little resemblance to the actual costs of providing medical services.

“We find high rates of people saying that their healthcare costs are unaffordable, across all insurance types, even (government-funded) Medicaid and Medicare,” she said.

“People accumulate medical debt because they can’t pay their bills. This is unique to the United States. We truly have a medical debt crisis.”

A survey by researchers at health policy foundation KFF found that around two-thirds of Americans said insurance companies deserve “a lot” of blame for high healthcare costs. Most insured adults, 81%, still rated their health insurance as “excellent” or “good”.

Christine Eibner, a senior economist at the nonprofit think tank the RAND Corporation, said that in recent years insurers have been increasingly issuing denials for treatment coverage and making use of prior authorisations to decline coverage.

She said premiums are about $25,000 (£19,600) per family.

“On top of that, people face out-of-pocket costs, which could easily be in the thousands of dollars,” she said.

UnitedHealthcare and other insurance providers have faced lawsuits, media investigations and government probes over their practices.

Last year, UnitedHealthcare settled a lawsuit brought by a chronically ill college student whose story was covered by news site ProPublica, which says he was saddled with $800,000 of medical bills when his doctor-prescribed drugs were denied.

The company is currently fighting a class-action lawsuit that claims it uses artificial intelligence to end treatments early.

The BBC has contacted UnitedHealth Group for comment.

Lawmakers in South Korea have narrowly failed to impeach the nation’s president over his short-lived attempt to declare martial law.

A bill to censure Yoon Suk Yeol fell five votes short of the 200 needed to pass, with many members of parliament in the ruling People Power Party (PPP) boycotting the vote.

The South Korean premier sparked widespread shock and anger when he declared military rule – associated with authoritarianism in the country – on Tuesday, in a bid to break out of a political stalemate.

Yoon’s declaration was quickly overturned by parliament, before his government rescinded it a few hours later in the midst of large protests.

• As it happened: South Korea’s impeachment vote
• Why did South Korea’s president declare martial law?
• Six hours that shook South Korea

The impeachment bill needed a two-thirds majority in the National Assembly to pass, meaning at least eight PPP MPs would have to vote in favour.

However, all but three walked out of the chamber earlier on Saturday.

One of those who remained, Cho Kyung-tae, credited Yoon’s apology for the martial law decree on Saturday morning – after three days out of public view – as having influenced his decision not to back impeachment this time.

“The president’s apology and his willingness to step down early, as well as delegating all political agendas to the party, did have an impact on my decision,” he told the BBC ahead of the vote.

Cho said he believed impeachment would hand the presidency to the leader of the Democratic Party of Korea (DPK), Lee Jae-myung.

He added that Yoon’s “irrational and absurd decision” to declare martial law had “overshadowed” what he described as the DPK’s “many extreme actions” while in power.

DPK lawmaker Lee Unjoo told the BBC that she had cried when PPP politicians walked out.

“We did know there was a possibility they might boycott the vote, but we didn’t believe they would actually go through with it when tens of thousands of citizens were watching right outside,” she said.

Following Saturday’s vote, Lee insisted his party “will not give up” with its attempts to impeach Yoon, who he said had become “the worst risk” to South Korea.

“We will definitely return this country to normal by Christmas and the end of the year,” he told a crowd gathered outside the parliament in the capital, Seoul.

Prior to Tuesday, martial law – temporary rule by military authorities in a time of emergency, during which civil rights are usually curtailed – had not been declared in South Korea since before it became a parliamentary democracy in 1987.

Yoon claimed the measures were needed to defeat “anti-state forces” in the parliament and referred to North Korea.

But others saw the move as an extreme reaction to the political stalemate that had arisen since the DPK won a landslide in April, reducing his government to vetoing the bills it passed, as well as Yoon’s increasing unpopularity in the wake of a scandal surrounding the First Lady.

The president’s late-night address caused dramatic scenes at the National Assembly, with protesters descending en masse as military personnel attempted to block entry to the building.

Lawmakers tussled with the soldiers, with 190 MPs making it into the building to vote down the order.

In the early hours of Wednesday morning, Yoon’s cabinet rescinded the martial law declaration.

However, the short-lived military takeover has seen daily protests on the streets. Some came out in support of Yoon, though they were drowned out by angry mobs.

Authorities have since revealed more about the events of Tuesday night.

The commander charged with the military takeover said he had learned of the decree on TV along with everyone else in the country.

He said he had refused to make his troops arrest lawmakers inside parliament, and did not give them live ammunition rounds.

The National Intelligence Service later confirmed rumours that Yoon had ordered the arrest and interrogation of his political rivals – and even some of his supposed political allies, such as his own party leader Han Dong-hoon.

These revelations saw some members of Yoon’s own party signal their support for impeachment.

The president’s apology on Saturday morning appeared to be a last-ditch effort to shore up support.

He said the martial law declaration had been made out of “desperation” and pledged he would not make another.

Yoon did not offer to resign, but said he would leave decisions on how to stabilise the country to his party.

Were he to be impeached, it would not be unprecedented. In 2016, then-President Park Geun-hye was impeached after being accused of helping a friend commit extortion.

If South Korea’s parliament passes an impeachment bill, a trial would be held by a constitutional court. Two-thirds of that court would have to sustain the majority for him to be removed permanently from office.

At least five people have died and four others injured after explosions rocked a block of flats in The Hague in the Netherlands, authorities have said.

Firefighters rushed to the three-storey building following the blasts that caused the collapse of several homes in the Tarwekamp area at around 06:15 (05:15 GMT) on Saturday.

The city’s mayor, Jan van Zanen, said it was unknown how many people were still missing.

The cause of the explosions is not yet clear, but Dutch police said a car drove away “at very high speed” shortly after, and have appealed for witnesses.

Van Zanen said the chance of survivors being pulled from the rubble was slim, and urged the community to prepare for a “worst case scenario”.

It was earlier thought up to 20 people may have been in the flats at the time of the blast, but the mayor refused to speculate on this.

The Dutch fire service said five people are confirmed dead.

Dutch media reported five flats were destroyed in the explosion.

Rescue teams with sniffer dogs have been deployed to sift through the debris, but parts of the site remain too dangerous to access.

A large excavator has been brought in to remove debris and lighting erected at the site.

Fourteen-year-old Adam Muller told the AFP news agency the explosion “felt like an earthquake”.

“I was asleep and suddenly there was this huge bang,” he said.

“I looked out of the window and just saw flames. It’s a massive shock,” he added.

National police commissioner in the Netherlands Janny Knol said there was “disbelief and uncertainty” in the community.

Dutch King Willem-Alexander and Queen Máxima said in a statement: “We sympathise with all those who have been personally affected or who fear for the fate of their loved ones.”

“‘.”

This weekend will be a bittersweet goodbye for Taylor Swift and her fans.

When she plays the final notes of Karma in Vancouver on Sunday night, the Eras Tour will be over, forever.

First announced in November 2022, it’s been even bigger than Swift could have wildest-dreamed – with 149 shows in 53 cities seen by 10.1 million fans.

Along the way, it hoovered up $2bn in ticket sales, stimulated local economies and triggered seismic events.

Swift has called it “the most exhausting, all-encompassing, but most joyful, most rewarding, most wonderful thing that has ever happened” in her life.

Writing in her recently-published tour book, Swift said the 45-song, career-spanning setlist was inspired by the decision to re-record her first six albums, which made her fall “back in love” with her past work.

She went on to play concerts in “the pouring rain, in the blazing heat, in the thickest of humidity, in the wildest of winds and in the bitter cold,” she wrote, even when she was “sick or exhausted or injured,” or working through a “broken heart”.

But the concerts were about more than the music. Fans swapped friendship bracelets and made lifelong friends with strangers. Outside the stadiums, ticketless Swifties gathered in car parks to sing along.

At one show in Munich, 40,000 people congregated on a nearby hill just to catch a glimpse of the show, almost outnumbering the fans inside the city’s former Olympic Stadium.

For many, the chance to hear these songs live for the first time was overwhelming.

“I did a lot more weeping than I expected,” says Chvrches singer Lauren Mayberry, who first saw the tour in Santa Clara last year.

“I wept at the start, just because it was exciting. Obviously I wept during [epic break-up ballad] All Too Well. Then I cried in The Archer. Don’t know why.”

Online, the faithful watched nightly livestreams and downloaded a free, fan-run app – SwiftAlert – that allowed them to speculate on the outfits Swift might wear, and the surprise songs she might play in her nightly acoustic set. Those at the top of the leaderboard would win prizes.

There’s an unparalleled sense of community around the gigs. When I took my daughter to one of the Wembley Stadium gigs in June, taller people moved back to give her a better view – something I’ve rarely seen in years of concert-going.

For other families, the Eras Tour has even brought them closer together.

• Why is Taylor Swift so big? ‘She wants it more than anyone’
• Eras Tour review: Pop’s heartbreak princess dazzles in Edinburgh

Michelle, from Seattle, Washington, is attending one of the final concerts in Vancouver with her daughter this weekend, and says the anticipation has helped them stay in touch.

“I got the tickets almost 13 months ago, and even though she doesn’t live at home full time, I doubt even a week has gone by where we’ve not had a fun conversation about Taylor, and spoke about looking forward to the show, and what our plans for the weekend may entail,” she says.

The conclusion of the tour leaves Swift at a crossroads. This Eras Tour will be the yardstick against which the rest of her career will be measured – and her next move will be watched closely by fans and critics alike.

So what options does she have?

“Taylor is a very future-minded thinker, so I imagine she has the next few years already completely planned out.” says Bryan West, a dedicated Taylor Swift reporter for USA Today and The Tennessean, who has seen the Eras tour 89 times.

Noting Swift’s tendency to dovetail her projects, he thinks there will be some sort of “news-making” announcement at her final show.

Most likely, this will be the reveal of Reputation (Taylor’s Version) – the latest instalment of her re-recorded album series, complete with bonus tracks from the vault.

That said, fans have been anticipating that announcement all year and the album is yet to materialise, despite numerous, tantalising hints it’s on its way.

West has some other theories, too.

“We’ve seen film crews at many of the gigs, so I’d not be shocked if she’s been shooting a documentary this entire time.

“And in her new book, she said, ‘See you next era’, so there have been reports that she’s working on new music.”

A longer term prospect is that Swift will pivot to film. In December 2022, she signed a deal to direct a film for Searchlight Pictures, based on her own original script.

Making the announcement, Searchlight presidents David Greenbaum and Matthew Greenfield called her “a once in a generation artist and storyteller”, but the trail has gone cold since then. Perhaps she’ll return to the director’s chair in 2025?

West has also tracked several trademarks filed by the star this year, including Taylor-Con and Female Rage: The Musical “which could be anything from a television show to a documentary series to a Broadway production”.

But maybe we’re expecting too much?

“She needs to take some time off, first and foremost,” says Jack Saunders, host of Radio 1’s New Music Show, “because it’s completely unrealistic to expect a human being to operate at the performance level that she has been doing for the last couple of years and dive straight back in.

“We’ve heard a lot from Taylor – so it’s healthy for us and it’s healthy for her to step back and take some time away, so that she can fuel herself for whatever’s next.”

Indeed, Swift has hinted she’s tiring of the music industry grind.

Clara Bow, a track from her latest album The Tortured Poets Department, is a barbed commentary on the industry’s lust for new blood.

Other songs find her daydreaming about wedding rings and “pushin’ strollers” – so there’s every possibility Swift will take a year off to focus on her romance with American football star Travis Kelce.

“She probably will take a break,” says West, “but she’s not one that necessarily sits still. She’s always creating. She’s always coming up with new projects.”

If Swift does head back to the studio, singer-songwriter Self Esteem hopes she’ll spend the cultural (and financial) capital she’s built up over the last two years to do something unexpected.

“If I was her, I’d indulge myself in making music in all the different genres and styles I hadn’t been able to explore because of branding and expectations,” she says.

“And it sounds really worthy, but I can’t wait until I have enough money to fund working class people who can’t get access to music – so if I was her, I’d do that.”

(It’s worth noting that Swift has a history of charitable giving, including donations to local foodbanks on every stop of the Eras tour).

Whatever happens, a left-hand swerve makes sense; in her Eras Tour book, the star says she “hates to do the same thing twice”.

But for this weekend, Michelle just wants to savour the final moments of a one-off phenomenon.

“We love concerts in my family. I love the buzz of being in a whole crowd of people excited about the same thing,” she says, “but this feels different.

“I love how the tour has brought people all over the world together.

“It will certainly be interesting to see what her next move is,” she adds, “but I can’t bring myself to speculate.

“I’ll just wait and see – because, whatever she does next, Taylor and her team should be very proud of the joy that was brought to so many during the Eras Tour run.”