A young woman wearing a red hoodie and oversized sunglasses pulled over her motorbike just beyond Tree 55 on Nguyen Huy Tu Street in central Hanoi. She took a picture with her phone, gazed at the tree once more, and lingered, her stance defiant.
At lunchtime on Tuesday, no other vehicles were parked there while a couple of men in plain‑clothes attire — identifiable by their dress shoes and aviator sunglasses — stood nearby.
Tree 55, widely recognized by locals, marks the spot where an 18‑year‑old student, Do Ngoc Phuong Thuy — known as Mina — and her father were struck by a BMW. Mina was flung from her motorbike and died just days before her university entrance exams, an incident that occurred fifteen months prior.
I visited this week to check if fresh flowers had been placed. Teenagers and young adults had been delivering bright bouquets, snapping photos and posting them online — only for the police to have taken them away recently. The lingering tension in their absence was understandable.
On Monday night, following a surge of Gen Z anger and creative expression that turned Memorial Tree 55 — dubbed “The Tree of Justice” — into a local talking point, Vietnam’s national broadcaster finally confirmed what many had suspected: former Communist Party official Nguyen Sy Cuong was driving the BMW involved in the crash.
The broadcast noted that Mr. Cuong, who until earlier this year served as vice‑chairman of the National Assembly’s foreign affairs committee, had caused the collision by driving on the wrong side of the road. It added that he avoided prosecution after compensating the victims’ family, who decided not to file charges. The father’s face was blurred in the segment, where he urged the public to move on; the report omitted the fact that Mr. Cuong’s wife, Lam Thi Phuong Thanh, holds the post of minister of culture, sports and tourism.
Observers suggested that their influential roles had kept the incident hidden from public scrutiny.
In a one‑party state described by Harvard scholars as repressive yet responsive, the official admission of fault represented an extraordinary concession to public pressure. The broadcast warned against “opportunists exploiting the incident on social media,” highlighting the government’s anxiety over an unexpected youth‑led demand for accountability while leaders concentrate on economic development.
The sensitivity is heightened by recent Gen Z activism that toppled leaders in Nepal, challenged authorities in Indonesia, and continues to challenge power structures in India.
Hanoi officials had previously instructed state‑run media to limit coverage of the youth‑led “Cockroach” protests shaking New Delhi, per a written notice circulated among reporters. The internal memo cautioned that such information could be “exploited for anti‑government purposes.”
Nevertheless, at least for the moment, the broadcaster’s cautious admission on television has done little to diminish the resistance many feel toward what they perceive as careless propaganda shielding the elite.
On Wednesday, legal experts noted that the family’s decision not to press charges does not alone decide whether Mr. Cuong will face prosecution. Anonymous online commentators accused the state broadcaster of employing AI to alter a document that purportedly showed Mr. Cuong passing a sobriety test, while others doubted whether the blurred figure in the report truly was the victim’s father.
These allegations could not be independently verified. The network declined to comment, and when reached by phone on Wednesday, Mr. Cuong replied only, “I am busy, I cannot talk,” before ending the call.
By mid‑afternoon, the original version of the news report had been removed from YouTube.
The public anger extends beyond the crash itself, reflecting a wider frustration with corruption, privilege, and the secrecy mechanisms that favor elites in a rapidly changing society increasingly divided by wealth and political connections.
One Threads commentator wrote on Wednesday that allowing Mr. Cuong to avoid criminal prosecution merely confirms that the legal system “creates loopholes for the wealthy to funnel money and power into, while the poor are left out.”
Anger over who controls the policing of behavior and expression has further intensified the backlash; censorship, in fact, gave rise to the movement.
On July 31, rapper MCK announced he would remove from digital platforms several tracks from his new album that cultural authorities had labeled vulgar.
It was then that Mr. Cuong’s wife, Lam Thi Phuong Thanh — appointed minister of culture in April — became the focus of intense public curiosity.
Within days of MCK’s announcement, Threads users flooded the platform with questions about why so little information had been released regarding the May 30, 2025 crash involving her husband.
On August 12, the independent outlet Luat Khoa — staffed by former state‑media reporters now mostly abroad — reported that Nguyen Sy Cuong had become one of its top topics, generating over one million posts about the accident.
The following day, a Vietnamese‑politics Facebook page posted a notice stating that authorities had asked Facebook to “continuously block three of my posts concerning Nguyen Sy Cuong.”
Subsequently, security footage from a nearby building emerged and began circulating online.
The video depicted the BMW — an SUV — crashing into the tree with a motorbike lodged against its grille. A man steps out, appearing unharmed, and walks toward where Mina and her father were thrown. A woman who closely resembles Ms. Thanh exits the passenger side as a crowd assembles, moves away from the scene, returns to retrieve something from the front seat, and then departs.
In the short clip, neither the driver nor the passenger attempts to aid the injured.
A fresh wave of social‑media outrage followed, with users invoking references to “Animal Farm” and “The Hunger Games,” accusing Ms. Thanh of seeking to shield herself and her husband after online takedown orders proliferated to additional posts.
Meta, the parent company of Facebook and Threads, did not reply to a request for comment. Its latest Vietnam report indicates a rise in censorship, with restrictions applied to more than 5,300 items during the final six months of 2025 following requests from the Ministry of Culture and the Ministry of Public Security.
Undeterred, citizens found alternative ways to express their grief and anger. They arranged for flower deliveries to the base of Tree 55. Users shared photos of an ever‑growing, colorful pile until the afternoon of August 14, when another set of images surfaced showing police removing the bouquets and discarding them in a dumpster.
The Threads community then adopted white ribbons tied to backpacks as symbols of student promise.
Around the same period, an individual launched a virtual Memorial Tree Number 55.
“Rest in peace down there, sister,” read one of the many notes left at the site, adding, “We Gen‑Z will handle everything.”
The government has neither acknowledged the collection nor restricted access to it.
Ms. Thanh was unavailable for comment on Wednesday, and neither she nor her husband appeared in the state television segment — an omission some critics viewed as indicative of a lack of remorse.
In the resulting vacuum, messages of support for Mina and demands for accountability continue to grow.
Tung Ngo contributed reporting.
Also Read
- North Korea Test Fires Missiles As Kim Jong Un’s Sister Says She’s ‘Unaware’ Of Any Talks With Trump
- Syrian Foreign Minister Denies Plans for Turkish Military Deployment at Abu al‑Duhur Airbase
- Alibaba Profits Plunge 75% as Heavy AI Infrastructure Investment Takes Toll
- Russia’s Low‑Cost Banderol Munitions Challenge Ukraine’s Air Defenses


