Wikipedia may be partially restricted in Russia within the next one or two years over what officials describe as the “distortion of historical and other facts” in some of its articles, Azernews reports.
Day: January 27, 2026
My attempts to make my voice heard as a trans person in Azerbaijan began when I was very young. When I first got involved in activism, I always heard the phrase, “This road has no end in this country!” From what I have seen over the years among friends and the community, most queer people live in constant fear of having to leave. In recent years, Azerbaijan has increasingly become a closed society politically and socially. Unemployment, political pressures, restrictions on freedom of expression, and fear for personal safety force more young people to leave the country. LGBTQ+ youth experience this process with double discrimination. On one hand, they are affected by general political and economic pressures; on the other, they are specifically targeted by their families, workplaces, and state institutions because of their sexual orientation and gender identity.
My own decision to leave a country where I constantly lived under surveillance and anxiety intersected with the paths of other Azerbaijani LGBTQ+ people striving to live independently in various parts of the world. Looking more closely at the stories shared by community members, it becomes clear that leaving Azerbaijan is not a personal choice for LGBTQ+ people, rather it is the result of the lack of legal protections, police violence, and a system that fuels queerphobic pressures in society. For those living under constant risk, migration is not a matter of opportunity but a necessity, as remaining in Azerbaijan becomes impossible.
“I accepted a forced marriage with a man in Turkey in the hope of living freely”
Lamiya*, a 27-year-old lesbian who was forced into marriage to escape her family’s pressures and moved to Turkey, says that the first pressures began in her childhood.
“I was about 11 or 12. I remember constantly talking to my mother about girls, beautiful girls. I would say I liked a female classmate. One time I said it so much that my mother hit me. For a very innocent sentence.”
Illustration: Meydan TV
“I would come up with different excuses for my family each time. I said I would go to university and then get married, or work first. Sometimes I was forced to meet men my family chose, but I couldn’t say that there was another woman in my life. By the time I turned 22, I had no place left to run. At that point, I tried to reach out to communities I knew from social media to find support and escape abroad. But we couldn’t find support. We thought about going to the police, hoping they might help. The lawyer I spoke to told me, ‘If the police find out you are a lesbian, they will threaten to tell your family themselves.’ We were trapped. My relatives are conservative; they wanted to force me into marriage. I thought, at least I could move to another country. Hoping to live freely there, I agreed to a forced marriage with a man in Turkey. I even left the country without saying goodbye to the woman I loved.”
In Azerbaijan, forced marriages, domestic violence, and lack of rights push women toward more dangerous “escape routes.” The patriarchy, supported by the state, creates double challenges for queer women. Women who deviate from the “national value” model are punished by families and left alone because state institutions normalize and deliberately ignore this violence. As a result, community members are influenced by all these factors, leading to forced marriages, fake relationships, or unplanned migration. They leave the country without any legal or social guarantees, forced to build a life from scratch in unfamiliar societies.
Lamiya tried for a long time to convince herself she liked men to cope with the forced marriage. According to her, after the wedding, she had to live through compulsory sexuality and from that moment on started looking for ways to escape.
“I came to a city I didn’t know. I felt lonely in the chaos. I couldn’t leave the house alone; I thought Istanbul was just what I could see from my window. I lost all my social life and had panic attacks, overwhelmed by these emotions. I had to hide my orientation not only from my family but also from my legal spouse.”
Lamiya’s life changed after seeing news about a feminist rally in Ankara. She saw a video of women holding tightly together, so united that the police could not separate them. That was when she decided to find those women.
“I spent hours researching, asking, ‘Who are these people?’ Then I found the feminist group. I gathered the courage to attend their next event. When I arrived, I just said, ‘I saw you on the internet.’ They simply told me, ‘Come in.’”
From that moment, Lamiya’s life changed, and she began organizing with feminist activists. She says she now lives more freely than in Azerbaijan. Yet being unable to return to her home country still makes her feel incomplete:
“Sometimes I still don’t know if I belong anywhere. I’m safer here, I know that. Whenever I see news from Azerbaijan, I think people live like robots. The lack of hope for my country’s future, feeling alien in the place I was born. It’s very difficult.”
According to the LGBT+ Media Initiative “Qıy Vaar!”, in January and December last year, police conducted raids against queer citizens in Baku and Sumgayit, extorting money from some. Police initially created fake accounts on dating apps to meet community members. After gathering information, they summoned LGBTQ+ individuals to police stations under the pretexts of “online fraud” or “bank issues” and subjected them to physical violence, threatening to expose their personal information to families and workplaces to extract money.
“They would tell me, ‘Scream, do you think anyone will hear you?’”
Nurlan*, 30, originally from Sumgayit and now living in a small Dutch town, is one of them.
He says he first realized he was gay around ages 14–15:
“At home, when they saw a queer person on TV, they’d say, ‘Look at this, is it a boy or girl?’ I grew up with these phrases. I always felt guilty. I tried getting closer to religion, hoping I would change. It didn’t help. I decided to live in hiding. I didn’t want to be pointed at.”
“I always knew I would have to leave this country one day, but I never imagined I’d face this kind of ordeal. It was late December. I was caught in one of these raids. They called me to a local station under the pretext of a network crime. Until I entered the station, I had no idea what was happening. A tall, dark-skinned man approached and said, ‘You sent naked pictures to people,’ claiming there were complaints. I was sure I had sent none. In small towns like Sumqayıt, they threatened to expose my family and work, demanding 2,000 AZN. They humiliated me with questions about my sexual life and laughed at my messages. I had to pay to save my life.”
On January 9, he was summoned again and continued to be threatened. Nurlan describes being dragged into a car, beaten, and forced to open his phone, with his messages used for further threats:
“I still know people who have been summoned to the police 3–4 times under the same pretext. We were at a friend’s place; it was 11 p.m., the New Year holiday had just ended, and we were about to go out into the city. As we were walking quietly, we noticed a group of people in plain clothes following us. Suddenly, one of the police officers shouted, ‘There they are, catch them!’ We didn’t even realize who was trying to grab us. They dragged us along the ground and forced us into a car. In the car, they tried to silence us by shouting and hitting us. Our knees and arms were crushed. We secretly dialed 102 with our phone, but at that moment they took the phone from us and ended the call. What could we do then? They took me to a separate room, and a police officer named Namiq forced me to unlock my phone. They opened my messages with my partner and took them for future threats. They were hitting us with their fists; I frequently lost my balance, and my hands were handcuffed. They would say to me, ‘Scream, do you think anyone will hear you?!’ I remember them kicking my body—they hit me so much that I lost consciousness.”
Illustration: Meydan TV
When Nurlan first arrived in the Netherlands, he was offered support through programs designed for refugees, but he says that even recalling the events he went through is difficult for him. For queer migrants coming from authoritarian regimes where state institutions are sources of violence, it is not easy to trust a psychologist or social worker connected to the police or government. At first, the very idea of “help structures” is associated in our minds with danger.
Nurlan says that at the police station, they forcibly pulled down his pants and began threatening him with sexual assault. To break his resistance, they handcuffed him and threw him to the ground while a group of police officers attacked him. According to Nurlan, an older officer who entered the room also began recording the torture on video.
After these events, Nurlan was threatened again for money and, unable to pay, had no choice but to leave the country for fear that his family would find out. He says he decided to flee to Europe, leaving his family and home behind.
“When you interact with an ordinary person in the Netherlands, you realize how different the culture we come from is. People here cannot fully empathize with what we have been through.
In Azerbaijan, for nearly 30 years, I couldn’t even answer the question ‘Do you have a partner?’ Here, I realize I am just like everyone else.
“I always hid myself, thinking I was different from everyone else. Over time, I even began to believe that I wasn’t normal. Now I am not in a police state and I am happy to have fundamental freedoms, but I no longer know where I truly belong.”
Raids, murder, and a silenced community
On December 27, police conducted a raid at the “Labyrinth” club in central Baku, which is frequented by the queer community. According to community members speaking to Meydan TV, a total of 106 LGBTQ+ citizens were detained during the raid. Some of those detained, speaking on condition of anonymity, reported the treatment they faced at the Nasimi District Police Station. According to them, they were forced to stand for hours, subjected to physical violence, insults, and humiliating behavior. They were not allowed to use the restroom, and no assistance was provided to those whose condition worsened. At the same time, community members reported that police officers demanded money, applied psychological pressure, and in some cases, committed sexual violence.
On November 4 last year, 19-year-old queer Yasin Ibadov was stabbed to death on Bashir Safaroghlu Street in Baku by a paternal relative. Witnesses told the media that bystanders did not intervene, and the police arrived at the scene only after the perpetrator himself called. It was reported that medical assistance was not provided in a timely or adequate manner.
According to ILGA-Europe’s 2025 “Rainbow Map,” Azerbaijan ranks second-to-last among 49 European countries, just ahead of Russia. Although the Azerbaijani government constantly declares respect for tolerance and diversity, its indifference to human rights violations in practice paints a picture of insincerity toward the LGBTQ+ community. Independent researchers often note that Azerbaijan’s relations with Europe are largely driven by economic interests, with human rights not being a priority. The government does not hesitate to use LGBTQ+ identities as a tool to target opposition figures. During election periods and recent crackdowns, the government has repeatedly portrayed independent media and activists as “threats” to the state by linking them to Europe. For example, during the 2024 presidential elections, when I participated as an observer on my own initiative, the government accused independent observers (including me) of receiving funding from Europe. Pro-government news sites highlighted my LGBTQ+ identity without concern for my safety, smearing me in the process. At a time when even the smallest independent work in Azerbaijan is criminalized, the queer community is naturally deprived of the ability to organize and speak out against violations.
*Respondents’ names have been changed for security reasons.
The post “Leaving the country is not a personal choice for LGBTQ+ people in Azerbaijan” appeared first on MEYDAN.TV.
The post “Leaving the country is not a personal choice for LGBTQ+ people in Azerbaijan” appeared first on azeritimes.com.
Journalist Ulviyya Ali (Guliyeva), who is imprisoned in connection with the “Meydan TV case,” has been named a finalist for the 2025 Free Press Awards by the organization Free Press Unlimited.
The organization stated that Ulviyya Ali has been nominated in the category of “Most Resilient Journalist.”
They also praised her work, highlighting that during her career, she covered court cases, human rights violations, and produced documentary films.
In addition, the organization shared Ulviyya Ali’s thoughts about her nomination on its platform:
“I have been working in journalism for years, and for the past eight months, I have continued this mission from prison. I am now convinced that serving humanity is more important than physical freedom. If isolated prisoners still want me to raise their voices, even considering stopping journalism would be an injustice to them.”
Another nominee in this category is Lebanese photojournalist Kristina Assi, who was seriously injured during an attack on journalists at the Lebanon–Israel border in 2023 and lost her right leg. Kristina Assi is recognized as a symbol of the fight against impunity for crimes committed against journalists.
The winners of the Free Press Awards 2025 will be announced on February 3 at the Free Press Live event, held at the Nieuwspoort center in The Hague, Netherlands.
Journalist Ulviyya Ali (Guliyeva) was arrested on May 7 in connection with the criminal case related to Meydan TV.
She was initially charged under Article 206.3.2 of the Criminal Code (smuggling, committed by a group acting in concert).
On August 28, 2025, the charges in the “Meydan TV case” were intensified.
The post Ulviyya Ali Nominated for International Media Award appeared first on MEYDAN.TV.
The post Ulviyya Ali Nominated for International Media Award appeared first on azeritimes.com.
Market analyst Diana reports that XRP’s exchange supply is rapidly shrinking, with on-chain data revealing that balances on centralized exchanges are at multi-year lows.
This indicates a significant shift in holder behavior and could lead to a reduction in selling pressure, News.Az reports, citing Coinpaper.
Well, Investors are steadily withdrawing XRP from exchanges into self-custody wallets, a classic signal of rising long-term confidence.
When holders anticipate stronger fundamentals or higher prices, they’re less inclined to keep coins on platforms where they can be quickly sold. Instead, they lock them away, tightening the available supply for trading. This shift comes as XRP trades at $1.89, according to CoinCodex data.
Why does this matter? Well, exchange supply directly shapes price action. When fewer XRP tokens sit on exchanges, large sell-offs become harder to execute, and rising demand must compete for a shrinking pool of liquid supply. This tightening supply–demand imbalance can intensify price moves, especially in bullish conditions.
Diana’s analysis shows this isn’t a short-term blip. The consistent drop in exchange balances points to long-term accumulation, not speculative churn. Historically, similar trends across major cryptocurrencies have preceded strong upward momentum, as holders lock up supply while demand steadily builds.
Another key takeaway is what this trend reveals about investor sentiment. Rising self-custody signals conviction, investors aren’t just trading XRP; they’re committing to it long term.
It reflects growing trust in both the asset and its ecosystem, likely driven by clearer regulation, expanding institutional interest, and increasing confidence in XRP’s role in cross-border payments and liquidity solutions.
Nevertheless, reduced XRP supply on exchanges doesn’t guarantee an immediate price surge, markets are still shaped by macro trends, regulations, and overall crypto sentiment. Structurally, conditions are increasingly favorable for stability and upside.
Simply put, “less XRP on exchanges” means less sell pressure and tighter supply. If demand rises while liquidity shrinks, XRP could be poised for a significant move.
Diana’s insight highlights a subtle but powerful shift: long-term holders are quietly accumulating, suggesting a market that’s increasingly focused on sustainability rather than short-term swings. On-chain data points to a deeper, potentially transformative trend for XRP’s future.
Conclusion
XRP’s shrinking exchange supply signals more than a short-term trend, it reflects strategic accumulation and growing holder confidence.
With fewer coins available, selling pressure eases and scarcity rises, laying the groundwork for price stability and potential upside. As long-term holders continue securing XRP, the market appears poised for a structural shift where limited supply meets steady demand, setting the stage for the next growth phase.
The post XRP Price Prediction: Is a breakout imminent as exchange supply shrinks? appeared first on azeritimes.com.
When Musk pushed X to integrate crypto market data, the era of “social media as market data” was officially ignited. BTC and XRP are no longer just fluctuating numbers on trading terminals, but core variables permeating information flow, public opinion, and capital decisions.
A subtle yet profound change is taking place in the US market: price volatility is giving way to position selection, and short-term speculation is giving way to structural participation. In this macroeconomic context, continuing to wait and see is actually a cost. It is against this backdrop that Moon Hash is frequently mentioned—it is not a noisy player in the hype, but like a quiet yet powerful engine, regarded by the industry as an “infrastructure-level presence” in the wave of Proof-of-Work (PoW) computing power assetization. To exaggerate a bit, if computing power is the oil of the new era, then Moon Hash is sitting in the middle of an oil field driven by tidal energy.
So how does it work?
Moon Hash’s logic is not obscure: Moon Hash leaves complexity to the system and certainty to the user. By leveraging commercial-grade Proof-of-Work (PoW) computing power scheduling, the complex systems previously belonging to mining farms, data centers, and engineering teams are transformed into contract structures that ordinary investors can directly participate in. Users do not need to understand the technical details, nor do they need to purchase ASICs or servers; they only need to choose a suitable contract to participate in the computing power allocation of mainstream crypto networks such as BTC and XRP.
Its advantages lie in the structure itself:
Compatibility with mainstream assets: Crypto assets such as BTC and XRP, considered long-term value anchors, are incorporated into a unified computing power allocation framework;
Efficiency and stability coexist: Computing power comes from global green energy data centers, undergoing periodic maintenance and upgrades, making long-term operation more predictable;
Clear compliant operation logic: Based on international licenses and mature regulatory frameworks, a sustainable long-term operation path is formed;
Security comes from systems, not slogans: From purchasing contracts and deducting funds from accounts to profit settlement, the process is clear and fully recorded, reducing unnecessary uncertainty.
Here, participation is preserved, and technical barriers are eliminated.
Looking back at the major trend of “social media as market data,” its essence is a redistribution of capital efficiency. A key reason for Moon Hash’s continued positive outlook lies in its substantial $300 million in liquid reserves, ensuring that its computing power allocation remains unaffected by short-term market noise. More importantly, the platform employs a bank-grade encryption system and layered cold wallet storage for secure fund management, creating an independent and auditable asset segregation structure.
Headquartered in the UK, the platform strictly adheres to the EU’s MiCA and MiFID II frameworks and has passed multiple international audit certifications—including PwC’s annual financial and security compliance audit, Lloyd’s of London insurance coverage, and a multi-layered encryption architecture utilizing Cloudflare enterprise-grade protection and McAfee cloud security systems. This institutional design perfectly aligns with the preferences of high-net-worth and middle-class investors in the US for “transparency, long-term sustainability.” Here, the trend is not just a slogan, but an executable structure.
Example of participation: The choice is yours. For more details on mining contracts, please visit the Moon Hash platform.
The sample process is as follows:
1. Register and log in to the Moon Hash platform (new users receive a welcome bonus of $15);
2. Browse Proof-of-Work (PoW) computing power contracts of different durations and sizes; select and subscribe to a contract according to your needs;
contract example:
Common Contract Options:
Bitcoin (Beginner Basic Contract): $100, Term: 2 days, Daily Profit: $4, Total Profit: $100 + $8
Antminer S19j XP – Bitcoin Contract: $500, Term: 7 days, Daily Profit: $6.5, Total Profit: $500 + $32.5
WhatsMiner M60 – Bitcoin Cash Contract: $1500, Term: 10 days, Daily Profit: $21, Total Profit: $1500 + $210
Antminer T21 – Bitcoin/Bitcoin Cash Contract: $5000, Term: 20 days, Daily Profit: $80, Total Profit: $5000 + $2400
Avalon Air Box – 40 ft – Bitcoin Contract: $30000, Term: 33 days, Daily Profit: $570, Total Profit: $30,000 + $28,500
For more details on the mining contract, please visit the Moon Hash platform.
3. After subscription, the contract will take effect immediately, and daily earnings will be automatically credited to your account 24 hours after the contract’s expiration date; upon contract expiration, the principal will be returned to your account immediately, and every transaction will be fully recorded;
4. Earnings can be freely withdrawn or used to subscribe to new contract projects.
The entire process is simple and straightforward, with clear operational logic.
Real feedback from different circles—consensus is forming
Michael Turner, 42, is a partner at a New York-based fintech company.
He first learned about Moon Hash at a closed-door luncheon with colleagues from San Francisco. “We’re not discussing profit figures, but whether computing power is a viable part of asset allocation,” Michael said. What attracted him wasn’t short-term returns, but Moon Hash’s approach of placing computing power, compliance, and green energy in the same structural framework. “It’s more like an institutional-grade solution, just with a more user-friendly interface.”
Linda Rodriguez, 29, is a renewable energy consultant in Austin.
She was introduced to Moon Hash by a colleague after an industry forum. “Tidal renewable energy isn’t just a gimmick; it determines the stability of long-term energy costs,” Linda said, valuing the platform’s strategic layout in green energy and policy alignment. “This is one of the few projects that makes me feel like I’m on the right side just by participating.”
Different cities, ages, and professional backgrounds, yet converging on the same judgment—this isn’t hype, it’s consensus.
The window isn’t closed, but positions are being filled.
When BTC and XRP become part of the social narrative, the real difference lies not in whether you’re optimistic about them, but in whether you’re participating within the right structure. The current phase resembles a quiet yet clearly defined window of opportunity: the assetization of computing power, the scaling up of green energy, and the internationalization of compliance systems are all resonating in unison.
Moon Hash offers not an emotional choice, but a path of judgment that aligns with the trend. The situation has already given its signals; the remaining question is whether you are willing to stand on the side of this trend.
Visit the official platform https://moonhash.com/ now to explore new ways to engage with digital assets.
(Click here to download the app)
Contact us: info@moonhash.com
The post X spotlighted crypto market data, driving Moon Hash users to $7,000 daily earnings appeared first on azeritimes.com.
Shiba Inu’s token burn rate skyrocketed by 2,807% in the past 24 hours, generating significant buzz in cryptocurrency communities. While the percentage increase is eye-catching, the actual impact on SHIB’s market fundamentals remains minimal.
Approximately 18.8 million SHIB tokens were removed from circulation during this period. Social media channels celebrated the development as a bullish signal, but market data tells a different story, News.Az reports, citing Coinpaper.
The Numbers Don’t Add Up
The post Shiba Inu price remains steady despite 2,807% surge in burn rate appeared first on azeritimes.com.
#AraratMirzoyan held a meeting with Council of #Europe Secretary General Alain Berset, the Foreign Ministry reports.
📌Ararat Mirzoyan and Alain Berset exchanged views on developments in the #SouthCaucasus. Minister Mirzoyan presented #Armenia’s approaches to the continuouspic.x.com/sPp44gNCzXX
— Caucasus Monitor-Iran’s Perspective (@CaucasusNew) Jan 27, 2026