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Zhou Zhou in West Africa: Chinese Woman Trending on Weibo after Going ‘Missing’ in Nigeria

The story of Zhou Zhou – who joined her husband in Nigeria – caused concerns among netizens who believed the woman is not safe.

Manya Koetse

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One Chinese woman’s decision to move to West Africa with her older husband triggered worries and speculation on social media, with prevailing negative stereotypes fuelling fears that something bad might had happened to her.

A 7-months pregnant Chinese woman married to a Nigerian man suddenly became top trending on Chinese social media platform Weibo this week when she went ‘missing in action’ after posting about her upcoming trip to West Africa on her social media channels.

The woman posted about her travels as ‘Zhou Zhou in West Africa’ on Douyin, the Chinese TikTok, where she has over 290,000 followers.

The 20-year-old Chinese woman named Zhou Zhou gained netizens’ attention after she wrote on social media on July 28 that she would travel out of China and join her African husband to go back to his hometown.

One of the last photos Zhou Zhou shared online before going MIA (missing in action).

She shared some details of her trip from the Shanghai International Airport on social media, including those on how Nigerian border security staff inquired about her family and her purpose for visiting the country.

A photo of Zhou Zhou and her husband makes it to news channels.

Zhou Zhou soon received many messages from concerned netizens advising her to reconsider her trip because she is pregnant, suggesting that the medical care in West Africa is not up to par and that she would not be safe in Nigeria.

When Zhou Zhou then stopped updating her social media and did not respond to personal messages anymore, people started raising the alarm that Zhou might have gone missing after arriving in Nigeria. When her social media account bio info suddenly changed from ‘female’ to ‘male’, people worried that something might have happened to her.

By August 1st, there had been over 1.3 billion (!) views of a hashtag titled “Zhou Zhou in West Africa Went Missing” (#周周在西非已失联#).

The online concerns about Zhou Zhou grew so loud that even the Chinese Consultate in Nigeria responded to the issue (#大使馆回应周周在西非已失联#) and said they would look into the matter.

Zhou Zhou’s story unleashed a flood of stories on the supposed situation in West Africa or in Africa in general, with many people claiming to know what life is like or how Africans are like. Some people suggested that Zhou Zhou might discover her husband would actually have “multiple wives” and pointed out cultural differences between China and Nigeria.

One Nigeria-based blogger shared their experience about the various problems in the country, such as female inequality, and also claimed that Black [Africans] had a “talent for acting” and that “they should not be easily trusted”, adding: “we as Chinese don’t even say ‘I love you’ as many times in our entire lifetime as some Black [Africans] do within a time frame of two hours.”

Others were concerned about the age difference of fifteen years between Zhou Zhou and her husband, writing: “The age gap between them is so big, Zhou Zhou is only 20 years old? How did they meet? (..) Zhou Zhou and this African uncle come from such different cultural backgrounds.”

Throughout the years, there have been multiple trending stories on Weibo triggering worries that Chinese people, especially women, are not safe when they go abroad and that they are targeted for their nationality. After the murder of two Chinese sisters in Japan in 2017, a popular comment said: “When Chinese citizens travel to other countries, they must be vigilant. After all, we are not familiar enough with the political environment and social atmosphere of other countries. We must learn to protect ourselves.”

The existing prejudice and racial stereotyping on Chinese social media regarding African men only added fuel to the fire.

On the late night of August 1st, Zhou Zhou finally sent out a message on social media, telling everyone that she was doing well and thanking everyone for their concern.

Zhou Zhou’s post.

She also uploaded a video to her Douyin channel, saying:

“We’re doing well, thank you. I’m in the final stage of my pregnancy. Perhaps my feelings are not completely stable at the moment, because I’ve received so many messages and didn’t give a timely reply. Maybe I created misunderstandings because of it.”

In the video, Zhou Zhou explained that her husband does not have multiple wives and that they had already arranged a medical check-up at a local hospital.

Her response went trending (#周周在西非发视频回应#), garnering over 140 million views this week.

While many people accused Zhou Zhou of being an ‘attention seeker’ and purposely creating “a hype,” there were also those who argued that she should now be left in peace.

“I don’t like to tell young women how to choose their partner,” one commenter (@Amy小北京) responded: “To each their own. Some people love money, others love appearance. Some people love sincerity, others love excitement. For this girl, it’s not that it’s wrong to find someone from West Africa. This is her life, she has the right to choose. But why would I still say she’s stupid? [Because] the risk of this marriage is still too great.”

“Netizens did what they had to, they advised her not to, but she’s an adult and she’ll well aware of her own decision, let’s just wish her the best,” one educational blogger (@叫我小张同志就好) wrote.

By Manya Koetse
With contributions by Miranda Barnes

 

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©2022 Whatsonweibo. All rights reserved. Do not reproduce our content without permission – you can contact us at info@whatsonweibo.com.

Manya is the founder and editor-in-chief of What's on Weibo, offering independent analysis of social trends, online media, and digital culture in China for over a decade. Subscribe to gain access to content, including the Weibo Watch newsletter, which provides deeper insights into the China trends that matter. More about Manya at manyakoetse.com or follow on X.

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China Food & Drinks

The ‘China-chic Girl’ Image and the Realities of China’s Competitive Food Delivery Market

How did the trendy and cute “China Chic” cartoon image come to symbolize questionable takeout food in China?

Ruixin Zhang

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FROM THE WEIBO WATCH PREMIUM NEWSLETTER

 

“What should we order for dinner?” is a daily dilemma for millions of Chinese consumers in one of the world’s largest food delivery markets. With numerous platforms, cuisines, menus, and discount options, choosing the right takeout—one that is tasty, affordable, and safe—can feel like a daunting task.

But these days, many Chinese people follow a simple rule to identify bad takeout: if your delivery comes in packaging featuring a playful young woman wearing sunglasses, a traditional Peking opera headdress, and holding a fan—often with the bold trendy character “潮” (cháo, meaning “trend”)—it’s likely to be an unhealthy meal with potential food safety risks.

As one netizen joked, “I was so excited for my takeout, only to see this lady on the package and feel my heart sink.” Why does this seemingly cheerful cartoon figure evoke so much distrust and dislike from so many?

 
China-chic Girl
 

In 2020, digital illustrator @YUMI created the “China-chic Girl” image in response to a client’s request for a design that embodied the “China-chic” (国潮, guócháo) aesthetic.

China-chic, or guócháo—literally meaning “national tide”—refers to the rise of Chinese domestic (fashion) brands that often incorporate culturally Chinese elements into contemporary designs. This trend emerged as a reflection of growing nationalist sentiment in China, offering a Chinese counterpart to popular Japanese or Korean-inspired styles. From fashion and makeup to milk tea, ‘China-chic’ quickly became a defining element of China’s consumer culture (read more here).

Vlogger @花小雕 dressed up as the “China-chic” girl for Halloween.

However, when YUMI’s client failed to pay, she chose to release the design for free public use. YUMI’s creation—a blend of traditional Peking opera elements and modern sunglasses—struck a chord with its simple yet iconic charm. Its accessibility made it even more appealing, and the China-chic Girl soon became the go-to design for restaurants looking for affordable, visually striking takeout packaging.

On China’s wholesale website 1688, you can find a wide range of cheap takeout packaging with the “China-chic girl” on it.

The China-chic Girl was all the rage, until last fall.

Starting in September, some delivery drivers began exposing filthy kitchen conditions on social media, warning customers to avoid takeout from certain restaurants after witnessing food safety issues and kitchen hazards while waiting for orders.

Over time, people began noticing a pattern: the dirtiest kitchens were often small, non-chain establishments with no physical storefronts—just cramped spaces dedicated solely to takeout. Operating on tight budgets, these businesses often chose the inexpensive China-chic girl packaging to cut costs, unintentionally associating the China-chic girl with unsanitary and unsafe food practices.

As a result, netizens—especially young people who heavily rely on food delivery—started compiling guides to help each other avoid sketchy takeout options. The warning signs? Restaurants offering “cashback for good reviews” or those that lack a proper storefront, often listing only food items instead of a real restaurant name. These red flags point to private kitchens, poorly managed spaces, or even unregulated food safety practices. Additionally, many of these ‘China-chic takeouts’ thrive within the “group-buying” model on food delivery platforms.

 
No Such Thing As a Free Lunch
 

The “group-buying” model, popularized by platforms like Temu and its Chinese counterpart Pinduoduo (拼多多), allows users to invite friends, family, or colleagues to purchase a product together at a discounted price.

This strategy has since evolved into a pseudo-group-buying model, where even without inviting others, the group-buying discount is still applied. These discounts are carefully calculated by platforms to ensure that, even at reduced prices, profits can still be made due to the high sales volume.

Both Meituan (美团) and Eleme (饿了么)—the two largest food delivery platforms in China—have adopted this approach by introducing budget-friendly services such as Pinhaofan (拼好饭) and Pintuan (拼团) to target lower-tier markets.

For example, a typical 30 RMB ($4.15) takeout might cost only half that price through these services, with additional platform coupons and new user discounts making it almost irresistibly affordable.

A meal for 7.45 yuan ($1), but how fresh and safe is it?

But, of course, there’s no such thing as a free lunch. As many users have discovered, getting a full meal for under 10 RMB ($1.40) often comes at the expense of quality. These Pinhaofan takeouts commonly feature pre-made dishes with indistinguishable ingredients, flimsy utensils that can’t even scoop rice, a box of suspicious juice full of artificial coloring, low-grade packaging, and, of course, that cheap, once-iconic China-chic design.

 
A Meme Culture of “Bad Food”
 

Despite widespread awareness of these issues, the cheap Pinhaofan orders remain incredibly popular. According to Meituan’s second-quarter earnings report, the Pinhaofan service is booming, with order volumes reaching a record high of over 8 million orders per day. Why do people continue to order these potentially unsafe meals despite knowing the risks?

“Low price” has been the keyword for Meituan and the Chinese food delivery market for a long time. In the face of a sluggish economy and rising youth unemployment, online discussions are dominated by concerns over “consumption downgrades” (消费降级), “middle-class poverty” (中产返贫), “youth unemployment” (青年失业率), and “deflation” (通缩).

More and more people are turning to affordable takeout as a quick fix for their everyday struggles, even if the quality leaves much to be desired.

China Chic Girl Takeout

“I’m not stupid; I don’t expect a gourmet feast for 10 yuan ($1.4),” is a common attitude. As wallets run dry and work hours grow longer, health often becomes an afterthought.

This harsh reality, combined with the “lie-flat” mentality embraced by many young people, has turned ‘China-chic takeout’ and ‘Pinhaofan’ into online memes.

These meals have become symbols of resignation and self-deprecating humor among Chinese youth. When someone dares to express dissent or outrage about unchangeable realities—whether personal struggles or broader national policies—they’re often met with tongue-in-cheek pessimistic remarks like, “Have a couple of Pinhaofan meals and you’ll calm down” (“吃两顿拼好饭就老实了”).

Comparing take-out food: how bad is it actually? There’s a meme culture around Pinhaofan takeout food.

This phenomenon reflects a psychological defense mechanism. For young people who know they cannot change their circumstances, who find themselves at the bottom of society enduring immense hardship—even exploitation—they no longer confront failure directly or refer to themselves using the once-common “diaosi” (屌丝, loser).

Instead, they say things like, “Eating Pinhaofan every day makes me feel like I’ve won in life.” Perhaps it’s a bittersweet acceptance, but it’s not defeat.

 
No One Benefits—Except the Platforms
 

While memes can be entertaining, the real-world impact of Pinhaofan is far from positive for most involved—except for the platform giants. According to a report by Zhiwei Editorial Department (@知危编辑部), the Pinhaofan service significantly cuts into restaurant owners’ profit margins. Unlike regular takeout orders, where businesses pay a commission based on the final price, Pinhaofan offers a fixed, much lower payout per order, determined by the platform’s pricing categories. This often leaves restaurants with a meager profit margin of just 2-3 RMB ($0.3-$0.4) per order.

To stay afloat, restaurants are forced to cut corners—replacing fresh meats with frozen ones, opting for cheaper ingredients, and, of course, using the cheapest packaging, often taking the “China Chic” route.

So why do restaurants stick with this model?

The answer is simple: survival. On food delivery platforms, restaurant rankings are usually heavily influenced by factors like operational experience and longevity, giving older, established businesses a visibility advantage. This creates a cycle where newcomers struggle to compete.

The Pinhaofan model changes this dynamic by ranking individual dishes rather than entire restaurants. A single hit dish can boost a restaurant’s overall visibility and sales. In China’s highly competitive food delivery market, platform exposure is everything. Platforms often encourage struggling new restaurants to join Pinhaofan, positioning it as an opportunity to gain visibility. Faced with relentless competition and aggressive price wars, restaurants feel they have no choice but to participate, even if it means compromising on quality and profit.

Pinhaofan model: rankings ar based per dish, instead of per restaurant.

For delivery drivers, Pinhaofan presents its own set of challenges. To accommodate its group-order nature, Meituan introduced a “Changpao” (畅跑, or “smooth running”) mode for couriers. Under this system, couriers are assigned multiple Pinhaofan orders—often bundled with regular orders from the same restaurant along the same route—in a single trip, enabling them to deliver 2-3 times the usual number of orders in one go. The promise of “more work, more pay” draws couriers in, but the reality is far less rosy.

As explained by one Chinese blogger (@黑夜之晴天滚雪球), couriers’ per-order income under Changpao is nearly 50% lower than in regular modes. Even with a higher delivery volume, their overall earnings see little improvement. Worse still, regular (non-Pinhaofan) orders included in these bundled deliveries are also paid at the lower Changpao rate.

Couriers have vented their frustrations on social media, labeling Pinhaofan and Changpao as “exploitative.” One courier shared that a single Pinhaofan order earned them just 2.5 RMB ($0.35), and when group discounts were factored in, their earnings dropped to less than 1 RMB ($0.14) per order.

While couriers direct their grievances toward the system, customers are increasingly dissatisfied with the service. Complaints about couriers refusing to deliver Pinhaofan orders upstairs are growing. In some cases, couriers have reportedly even tampered with food to express their anger in a system where resistance feels futile.

For full-time couriers, the situation is even more grueling. Many work seven-day weeks, with at least two mandatory days spent on Changpao mode, leaving them with little choice but to comply with the system’s demands.

Shiba inu having China Chic takeout food. Meme video.

The “China chic girl” has gone from being a playful symbol of pride in domestic products to representing the problems of China’s fast and cheap takeout industry. What once celebrated affordability now highlights cost-cutting, poor quality, and exploitation.

It’s unclear if the memes and discussions around Pinhaofan will eventually bring real change to the situation at hand. But one thing is certain: the once-cute packaging now serves as a reminder of the sacrifices made by customers, restaurants, and delivery drivers in a system that eventually benefits only the platforms.

By Ruixin Zhang

Independently covering digital China for over a decade. Like what we do? Support us and get the story behind the hashtag by subscribing:

edited for clarity by Manya Koetse

Spotted a mistake or want to add something? Please let us know in comments below or email us. First-time commenters, please be patient – we will have to manually approve your comment before it appears.

©2024 Whatsonweibo. All rights reserved. Do not reproduce our content without permission – you can contact us at info@whatsonweibo.com.

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China Digital

From “Public Megaphone” to “National Watercooler”: Casper Wichmann on Weibo’s Role in Digital China

With Weibo now 15 years old, we asked Sinologist Wichmann about its evolving role in shaping public opinion, its key moments, and whether it can remain a major platform for public discourse in China’s increasingly crowded digital landscape.

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WHAT’S ON WEIBO CHAPTER: 15 YEARS OF WEIBO

Over the years, Weibo has undergone significant changes in both its political and social functions. Sinologist and China correspondent Casper Wichmann explored Weibo extensively in his academic research during the platform’s early years. Now, he reflects on its evolution and current role in China’s digital landscape.

Over the past fifteen years, the Chinese social media platform Weibo has been a popular and extensively studied subject in academic research, inspiring countless studies across various disciplines.

In the initial years after the founding of Weibo (read all about Weibo’s founding in this deep dive), Danish Sinologist and China correspondent Casper Wichmann, focused on Chinese digital platforms, dedicated his MA research to studying Sina Weibo as a new public sphere on the Chinese internet. Now that more than a decade has passed, it’s time to reflect on how Weibo has changed and why this matters.

Before Casper shares his observation, some key points from his thesis “Sina Weibo as New Public Sphere.” (For those interested, here is a link to the pdf):

➡️ Wichmann’s thesis (2012) analyzed how the Chinese microblogging platform Sina Weibo serves as a “public sphere” in China, providing a new space for citizens to share information and voice public opinion. Using frameworks like Jürgen Habermas’ theory of the public sphere, Johan Lagerkvist’s concept of ideotainment (blending Party propaganda with entertainment to build legitimacy), and Andrew Mertha’s fragmented authoritarianism (how political pluralization affects policy in China), the thesis explored how Sina Weibo functions as an independent media platform while working alongside traditional media. It examined how public opinion is formed on the platform and the significant influence of both traditional media and the Chinese Party-State.

➡️ The Party-State’s relationship with Sina Weibo is complex, balancing censorship with strategic allowances to monitor public opinion, address corruption, and maintain its legitimacy. Through case studies like the Wenzhou train crash and the Bo Xilai scandal, the thesis illustrated how Sina Weibo can amplify public opinion while also showcasing the Party-State’s ultimate control over discourse.

➡️ While Sina Weibo enables public engagement and amplifies citizens’ voices, Wichmann concluded that its role as a public sphere is limited or “incomplete” due to censorship by the Chinese Party-State, which also hape discourse, use the platform for propaganda, and influences its operations and moderation.

➡️ Wichmann predicted that Sina Weibo would increasingly become a “battlefield of public opinion,” where Chinese citizens and the Party-State would compete to control narratives and influence within this digital space.

With Weibo now 15 years old, we asked Wichmann about three things:
📌 Weibo’s evolving role in shaping public opinion: Has it become more or less effective, and has its social impact shifted? Which news stories highlight Weibo’s continued relevance or its changing influence?
📌 Changing government strategies on the Weibo platform: What pivotal moments stand out when Weibo emerged as a political tool?
📌 Weibo’s present & future in a crowded digital landscape: Can it still compete as a major platform for public discourse, or is it transitioning into a new role altogether?

 

Casper Wichmann

Sinologist, China Correspondent

Casper Wichmann is a Danish Sinologist with an MA degree in China studies from the University of Copenhagen. He wrote his MA thesis on Sina Weibo in 2012 and has especially had an interest in Chinese politics, tech and social media, among many other topics. Since 2023 he has been based in Beijing as the Asia & China correspondent for Danish news media, TV 2 Denmark.

Since 2023 he has been based in Beijing as the Asia & China correspondent for Danish news media, TV 2 Denmark.

📌Weibo’s Role in Shaping Public Opinion

“15 years is a very long time anywhere in the world, but particularly so in China. If you look at how the country has changed as a whole in those past years, it is inevitable that Weibo has also transformed.

One of the biggest things is of course censorship.

I worked on my thesis in the first half of 2012 and handed it in early September that year, and a lot was happening at the time when it comes to China’s online developments. I remember that I even wrote a disclaimer in the very beginning that the whole paper might be obsolete at the time of reading, because you had a sense of where the Chinese government were moving in terms of control.

As it turned out, the government started cracking down on the influential Weibo accounts (‘大Vs’ – big, verified accounts) not long after, and also introduced laws to stop the spread of rumors. This, in turn, also paved the way for WeChat’s rise to prominence. You now have a lot of different platforms and apps on the internet in China for debate and shaping public opinion.

 

“I still believe that you cannot overlook or understate Weibo’s role as the ‘watercooler’ of China.”

 

That said, I still believe that you cannot overlook or understate Weibo’s role as the ‘watercooler’ of China where everybody comes together to talk about current affairs.

In my thesis, I argued that Sina Weibo could be seen as a Habermasian public sphere—an incomplete one—where Chinese citizens can come together and, to a large extent, freely debate information and public opinion. Even though the censorship regime has become far more effective and sophisticated, coupled with increased self-censorship, I still think that conclusion holds true 15 years after Weibo’s launch.

It is an open platform—censorship and control aside—where everyone can read, participate in conversations, and share information with the click of a button. This is clearly demonstrated by the way What’s on Weibo has highlighted many important topics over the years that sparked national debates thanks to Weibo. Additionally, can any foreign brand aiming to succeed in the Chinese market afford to completely ignore Weibo? That would be unthinkable!

 

“Foreign brands can quickly find themselves caught in massive controversies because Weibo still acts as a public megaphone”

 

In terms of its effectiveness in shaping public opinion, I think that depends on how we look at it. For instance, foreign brands can quickly find themselves caught in massive controversies because Weibo still acts as a public megaphone. Just think of the scandals involving Dolce & Gabbana (2018), H&M (2021), or Dior (2022), to name a few.

Still from the promotional D&G video that was deemed racist in China, causing major controversy in 2018 (whatsonweibo).  

There are also examples like the Tianjin explosion in 2015, which quickly became national news and sparked public debate, largely thanks to Weibo—despite the aforementioned censorship measures.

The enormous Tianjin explosions took place on August 12, injuring hundreds of people. Many people only learnt of the news through social media rather than traditional news outlets, which initially did not report the blasts.

Another example is the tragic death of Dr. Li Wenliang, the COVID-19 whistleblower, where netizens mourned his passing while venting their frustrations on Weibo.

Lastly, the spread of the “Voices of April” video—a compilation of real audio snippets capturing Shanghai residents’ struggles during the Covid crisis in April 2022—is another notable example of Chinese netizens overwhelming censorship by reaching critical mass. While this occurred across various platforms, Weibo played a key role due to its nature as a public space for discussion.

All in all, Weibo is still a very important and effective platform on the Internet in China for public discussions, debates, and shaping public opinion. However, it is also up against a censorship regime that has evolved and continues to evolve alongside it. That said, one should never underestimate the creativity of Chinese netizens.”

 
📌Government Strategies and Control on Weibo
 

“In the early years of Weibo, some Chinese politicians and overseers found use of Weibo as a political tool. A specific example I included in my thesis was the drama surrounding the political downfall of Bo Xilai, then party secretary of Chongqing and a rising princeling within the Party, and the Wang Lijun scandal.

There seemed to be considerable evidence that netizens on Weibo were allowed for a long time to criticize and slander Bo Xilai before censorship eventually stepped in. There is no doubt that this made it easier for the Party leadership to oust Bo Xilai following the high-profile corruption case.

 

“As a tool to gauge public opinion, Weibo also enables authorities to monitor potential issues and nip them in the bud before they escalate into major problems”

 

I also think that Weibo’s importance as a tool for the Chinese government to gauge public opinion and sentiment should not be underestimated. It enables authorities to monitor potential issues and nip them in the bud before they escalate into major problems. It also facilitates public scrutiny of lower-level officials and governance within the Chinese system (舆论监督 yúlùn jiāndū, “supervision by public opinion”, also see CMP).

Bo Xilai during his trial.

Another important point is that the government and Party seem to have learned that it is often safer to let people debate, complain, and vent online, as it can give them a sense of being heard and allow them to release frustrations without escalating into physical demonstrations. Of course, there are exceptions where such online discourse also leads to physical protests.

There is also the aspect of how long Chinese netizens can maintain focus on a specific topic. For example, the Tianjin explosion I mentioned earlier quickly became a national debate, but over time it shifted back to being a local issue as Weibo users moved on to other topics. I have no doubt that the Chinese government has increasingly learned to use this dynamic to their advantage. It would be fascinating to study which types of topics reach the top trending lists, how long they stay there, how they are censored, and what topics eventually replace them.”

 
📌Weibo’s Business and China’s Competitive Digital Landscape
 

“It really says a lot about Weibo that it has managed to remain significant in China’s digital landscape, even after the rise of other major platforms, including WeChat, and despite the strict regulations and major crackdowns on the platform.

For example, WeChat experienced a surge in active users after the 2012 crackdown, as many felt Weibo had become boring due to key opinion leaders being increasingly cautious of censorship.

 

“Platforms in China are competing to capture as much of Chinese netizens’ time and attention as possible.”

 

Nowadays, there is a growing number of newer and more exciting apps and platforms in China, all competing to capture as many hours, minutes, and seconds of Chinese netizens’ attention as possible. However, I believe Weibo’s unique usage and role in the digital ecosystem are hard to replicate.

To reiterate, the platform’s “national watercooler” aspect—where everyone can check in, get a sense of what the rest of the country is talking about, and join the conversation themselves—should not be underestimated.

That said, Weibo still needs to consistently provide a service and product that Chinese users feel offers them real value. If it can continue to do so, I don’t see Weibo becoming irrelevant anytime soon.”🔚

 
To read more about the evolution of Weibo, also read: “15 Years of Weibo: The Evolution of China’s Social Media Giant

Spotted a mistake or want to add something? Please let us know in comments below or email us. First-time commenters, please be patient – we will have to manually approve your comment before it appears.

©2025 Whatsonweibo. All rights reserved. Do not reproduce our content without permission – you can contact us at info@whatsonweibo.com.

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