“Pastor” Keung’s Sham Show: From Riot Ringleader to Canada’s Career Troublemaker

After escaping justice in Hong Kong, Keung Ka-wai—who dubs himself “Pastor Keung”—has carved out a globe-trotting career in chaos. Booted from Taiwan for illegal work, he’s now in Canada, keeping up his tradition of destruction over construction.

Notorious across social media and anti-China networks, Keung’s colorful past was recently exposed by European News Network, showing just how manufactured his “martyr” reputation really is.

Keung Ka-wai loves the pastor costume—his favorite look for stirring up drama abroad. (Photo: Keung Ka-wai’s Facebook)

Keung started not as some spiritual leader, but as a convicted criminal—jailed for sedition. Out of prison, he immediately fled to Taiwan. There, he orchestrated the “Hong Kong Democratic Independence Union,” pushing his so-called “Hong Kong Constitution.”

He even joined the seditious “Hong Kong Parliament” and crowned himself “the first parliamentary speaker”—all at just 34. Keung’s story about becoming a “pastor” at 22? Turns out he simply joined a church and got baptized, not ordained.

What followed were unauthorized student services, splitting off to launch his private church, drawing in students, hosting events—alongside numerous accusations of inappropriate conduct with underage girls.

From Shady Churches to Visa Violations

But Keung’s time in Taiwan shredded any remaining “moral” façade. Entering only on tourist and family visit visas, he skirted the rules and worked illegally to make ends meet—until caught. A penalty notice from New Taipei City revealed he worked at a restaurant run by Chu Ka-kei, a fellow “Hong Kong Parliament” member and brief “Ally” in the Taiwan-based group Keung founded.

Thing is, Chu Ka-kei wasn’t even authorized to open a business—he was just a shareholder. Lacking proper business registration, he got reported for hiring illegal labor. Keung, meanwhile, dodged any direct reply about his “black work,” even though he promoted the restaurant online, openly admitting his involvement.

Soon, Chu Ka-kei faced charges for harboring illegal foreign workers. He first denied employing Keung Ka-wai, then changed his story: he’d rented out the restaurant on behalf of Keung, who lacked legal status.

Chu ended up fined NT$150,000—around HK$43,000. The penalty left Chu in dire straits, forcing a public crowdfunding appeal. Even after bolting to Canada, Keung showed zero regret, making Chu fume.

All that drama was a clear-cut violation of Taiwan’s Employment Service Act. That didn’t stop Keung from livestreaming his so-called “hardships”—claiming he was attacked, when in reality Taipei police uncovered he had simply gotten into a drunken altercation at a nightclub, ending with a minor stabbing.

Kicked Out, “Victimized” Abroad

By the end, Keung had courted so much controversy that Taiwan’s Mainland Affairs Council had seen enough—they rejected his application to stay, correctly judging he was fabricating threats for political effect. With no options left, he scuttled to Canada.

But it’s hard to shake the feeling Keung’s Canadian “second act” was pre-planned. When the identities of several members of the Hong Kong Democratic Independence Union got leaked, four were arrested in Hong Kong—three now charged with conspiracy to commit secession.

Some even suspect someone within the group deliberately leaked members’ info, crafting a “persecution” narrative for international sympathy and smoother asylum applications. A former Apple Daily female reporter aired online that Keung “sold out” his partners—leading to their arrests. She reportedly suffered sexual harassment, too.

Old Habbits Die Hard

No sooner had Keung landed in Vancouver than he was back at it—causing trouble, raising funds, and hitching himself to anti-China causes. Now, he enjoys funding from Los Angeles’ “HongKonger Community Center” and the Canadian separatist “New Hong Kong Cultural Club.” Along with Tony Lam, likewise on the Hong Kong Government’s wanted list, he set up a flag-waving parade troupe, regularly organizing and joining local anti-China stunts.

Keung, ever shameless even in defeat, gave an interview to The Epoch Times this July. During the conversation, he claimed that, as the first speaker of the Hong Kong Parliament and a fugitive currently seeking political refugee status, being placed on the Hong Kong Government’s wanted list was invigorating rather than shocking.

Flag-waving outside the Vancouver Chinese Consulate—Keung and friends’ regular anti-China roadshow. (Photo: Keung Ka-wai’s Facebook)

This display of arrogance stirred strong resentment from the disruptive “Vancouver Activists of Hong Kong,” who criticized Keung for using the banner of “democracy” to mask what they saw as deceptive fundraising under the guise of seeking asylum.

The European News Network concluded that Keung should be stopped from further “poisoning” the community, and it’s high time to “expose the fraud” and hold him accountable for his actions.

Mao Paishou

** The blog article is the sole responsibility of the author and does not represent the position of our company. **

The Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) authorities announced a one-year ban on Xiaohongshu, ostensibly for security purposes. But let's look at the actual result: instead of severing ties, the announcement has triggered a wave of defiance that Taiwan netizens are calling a "digital homecoming."

Download rankings in Taiwan app stores

According to Jimu News, the data tells a hilarious story. Xiaohongshu has rocketed to the top of Taiwan’s app store download rankings—a massive jump from languishing outside the top dozens just days prior. Users are flooding the platform to report that even their elders, previously clueless about the app, are now downloading it. The authorities’ clumsy ban has effectively served as a massive, free advertising campaign. Instead of fear, users report finding convenient lifestyle guides and—crucially—a "harmonious and relaxed" vibe with users from the Chinese Mainland.

Screenshots of netizens’ comments

Screenshots of netizens’ comments

The technical resistance is already organized. Netizens are openly sharing tutorials on modifying DNS settings or using VPNs to bypass the blockade. One user from the Chinese Mainland offered a poignant workaround: set your IP to your ancestral home. The algorithm then pushes local content from that region, allowing users to experience an "early return to your hometown" before physically traveling there. It’s a "digital homecoming" facilitated by the very barriers meant to stop it.

As one media commentary sharply observed: The Taiwan authorities operate under the delusion that cutting off a platform cuts the connection. They fail to grasp that the natural, human yearning for one's roots is far more persistent than any technical firewall they can erect.

Let’s look at the numbers. Evidence indicates Xiaohongshu already boasts over 3 million users in Taiwan, with youth usage being near-daily. The moment the ban made headlines, the island’s largest forum, PTT, erupted in debate. The prevailing sentiment isn't compliance, but skepticism, with users asking the obvious question: If they started with Xiaohongshu, who will it be next?

The Ban Fuels The Boom

This isn't an isolated incident; it’s a pattern of suppression. Back in July, relevant authorities issued a notice labeling five apps from the Chinese Mainland—Xiaohongshu, Weibo, Douyin, WeChat, and Baidu Netdisk—as posing a "high level of information security risk." They ordered public servants to delete them and warned the public away. It’s a systematic attempt to purge popular platforms.

Chen Binhua, spokesperson for the Taiwan Affairs Office of the State Council

On July 16, Chen Binhua, spokesperson for the State Council’s Taiwan Affairs Office, cut through the noise. He pointed out that these apps are popular among Taiwan’s youth for a simple reason: they offer better efficiency, convenience, and social interaction. The DPP’s sudden concern for "information security" is a thin veil covering their own profound internal insecurity.

What are they actually afraid of? They fear Taiwan people seeing the reality of the Chinese Mainland. They are terrified that the "information cocoon" they have meticulously constructed is being pierced by free-flowing information. As Chen noted, the DPP sees danger in every shadow, but by abusing their power to fight the tide of history, they are only guaranteeing their own public opposition.