Latest news with #Adie
GMA Network
01-06-2025
- Entertainment
- GMA Network
Bianca Umali is 'Ms. Pakipot' in Adie's latest music video
Rising OPM star Adie released the music video for his latest song "Ms. Pakipot" which featured Bianca Umali! In the five-minute music video, Bianca and Adie portrayed employees who appeared to harbor secret romantic feelings for each other. The music video featured some sweet moments between them while after work hours. In her Instagram post, the Sparkle star expressed gratitude to Adie and the production company for having her in the music video. Adie is the hitmaker behind the song "Paraluman." More of his songs include "Tahanan," and "Mahika," which was used as the official soundtrack for the GMA Public Affairs and GMA Pictures-produced film "The Cheating Game." In 2022, the Filipino singer was among Rolling Stone's Breakout Artists of the Year. Meanwhile, Bianca is fresh from her "Pinoy Big Brother: Celebrity Collab Edition" stint as a house guest. She is set to star in "Sang'gre," which will air on GMA Prime beginning on June 16. —Jade Veronique Yap/MGP, GMA Integrated News
Press and Journal
27-04-2025
- Business
- Press and Journal
The Britoil Scandal: A £23m fraud on the streets of Aberdeen
On a warm summer's afternoon in 1988, 29-year-old Alison Anders walked along Castle Street in Aberdeen clutching a piece of paper that would change her life forever. She entered the Bank of Scotland branch, approached the counter and handed over the document, before walking out and heading back to the office. What seemed at the time to be an innocent clerical errand was to spark a worldwide manhunt – and the astonishing drama surrounding it was just beginning. Over the course of a year, detectives would crack a series of bizarre clues to track down the mystery of who tried to steal £23 million from a north-east oil firm, how they managed to get away and why they exploited the death of a young girl. It is a tale of an Albanian businessman, French antique dealers, American florists and the Abu Dhabi royal family – and an adulterous north-east couple on a quest to start a new life in Brazil. This is the story of the Britoil scandal – Scotland's biggest-ever fraud case. After Alison Anders returned to the Rubislaw offices of Britoil on that Tuesday afternoon in late June 1988, nothing was out of place. The confident, clever 5ft 4in woman, who worked as a senior accounts assistant in the finance department, left work for the day and came back for duty again the next morning – her 30th birthday. But on that day, there was a problem. Speaking publicly for the first time about the case, Ian Adie – Britoil's financial accountant at the time – describes what happened that day. He told us: 'We got a call from a clerk at the bank named May Hall, who asked why there was extra information on the document Alison had taken into the branch the previous day.' That document was an application to transfer £23,331,996.95 from Britoil to another account. And the extra information urged the bank to process the payment quickly. Mr Adie added: 'I thought it was strange because the payment was for a lease payment on an oil platform and we couldn't pay it until two other payments from other oil companies had been made. 'I said something like 'once we have all three amounts, payment won't take long, anyway, because it's going into a domestic account, in London. 'The cashier replied: 'No, this is an international transfer'.' At that stage, Britoil staff thought there had merely been a mix-up. With the internet still years off – the main method of exchanging business documents, besides mail, was fax. And so Britoil bosses asked the bank to fax through a copy of the document Anders had given to them. After receiving the fax, Mr Adie felt something was off. With an abundance of caution, he faxed back a letter to the bank instructing them to 'under no circumstances' transfer the money. Mr Adie thought the simplest solution was to simply start the payment process from scratch. An ever-diligent accountant, Mr Adie was used to dealing with sensitive financial matters in his role at Britoil – a massive firm that employed around 1,800 staff at the time. He was careful to speak on the phone to the bank in hushed tones, so colleagues would not overhear and get the wrong end of the stick. And yet, despite that, the only person in the office to react in a peculiar way was Alison Anders. 'Around that time, Alison came back from the bathroom in the office and said to me, 'I don't feel well',' said Mr Adie. A highly intelligent and calculated individual, Anders was using the cunning she had honed in her decade as an adult. She arrived in the north-east of Scotland in the late 1970s, determined to share in the riches of the booming oil industry in the Granite City. Still in her early 20s, Anders, a Lancaster University archaeology graduate, moved into a flat in Aberdeen's Claremont Street. She made friends with local woman Anne Mason – now Anne Sprunt – and the pair went climbing and played bridge together at Westburn Park Lounge. And it was that very game that would get Anders into so much trouble that she had to tell her boss she was sick. Recalling his reaction to her sudden illness right after the £23m payment was queried, Mr Adie said: 'It's strange, looking back, because – at that point we had absolutely no idea what was really going on.' 'In fact, it was Alison's birthday and I think we'd all clubbed together to buy her a gift – maybe a cake.' Being a good boss, Mr Adie was sympathetic to Anders' sudden bout of ill health and gave her a lift home, a 10-minute drive away. Anders usually got the bus to work or walked. Mr Adie said: 'I drove her back. I can't remember what was said on the journey. 'Maybe just small talk about the fact it was her birthday, and maybe some sympathy that her plans to celebrate might be scuppered if she was feeling unwell.' Then something even more peculiar happened Mr Adie said: 'I dropped Alison off and, as I was driving away, I saw her running down the road gesturing at me. 'She said that she'd forgotten the key to her flat door and her handbag, so I took her back to the office. 'Once we got back to the office, I was prepared to give Alison a lift back home. 'Instead, she told me 'I'll get a taxi home, don't worry' and off she went.' And that was that. 'The next time I would see her would be 14 months later in the dock of a court room,' recalled Mr Adie. Anders' lawyer, Jack Davidson KC, described how his client had been so close to processing the £23m payment order – and pocketing the funds. 'Anders was very close to achieving the unachievable – she really was,' said Mr Davidson. He added: 'When the bank staff in Glasgow raised the questions about the money transfer, all hell was let loose in Britoil offices.' Back in Rubislaw, a crisis meeting was taking place. Still baffled by the strange international transfer request, Mr Adie decided to consult the top brass at Britoil. He conferred with the company's two directors, William Docherty and Neil Smith, about the strange events of that morning. The three of them were relieved they nipped the problem in the bud before the payment could be made. But they were left scratching their heads about how it had happened. Mr Adie said: 'It wasn't immediately that we began to suspect Alison because the priority was stopping the payment and keeping the matter between the three of us.' It is important to appreciate the massive sums of money Britoil staff dealt with back then. Workers based at the Rubislaw office would routinely deal with eye-watering amounts, and so, rather than going to the bank – bank staff would go to them, as an added layer of security and privacy. Those visits would be at the same time on the same day each week. That meant, on one hand, all Britoil staff knew the routine and could depend on it. But on the other hand, it meant that anyone who wished to exploit the routine for their own underhanded ends could do so. Mr Adie said: 'I was talking with Mr Docherty and Mr Smith. 'We established that the payment document requesting £23m be transferred had not been given to the Bank of England staff when they did their regular visits to the office. 'That in itself was out of the ordinary. 'And then we established who handed it in – Alison Anders. 'That, combined with her sudden sickness, made us suspect her. 'And I started thinking, when she told me that she needed to go back to the office because she'd forgotten something, that must have been for a specific reason. 'Maybe to get rid of some evidence. 'I can't be sure, but I suspect Alison probably had a pad of paper where she had been practising forged signatures.' With evidence mounting against Anders, there was only one thing left for the Britoil bosses to do. 'We called in the police,' said Mr Adie. First on the scene was Detective Sergeant Hamish Moir, of Aberdeen CID, based at Queen Street. For this series, the now-retired police officer has lifted the lid on the case for the first time. He said: 'I got a message to call from Detective Chief Inspector Harry Milne. 'He said 'can you come back to the office? There's an attempted fraud here – £23m'. 'It was the highest-value fraud ever reported in a Scottish court. Mr Moir added: 'I went to Britoil and went to see the director, Mr Docherty. 'They told me what had gone on. 'It was kept very much between Mr Docherty and Mr Adie. Nobody else knew what was going on. 'Had the fraud been a success, they might not have reported it.' The former detective revealed that a seemingly innocuous message that Anders had written on top of the document to convince bank staff it was legitimate was to prove her downfall. He said: 'She had written 'URGENT! on top of the document. 'Without that, the payment would have gone through.' 'If Britoil had actually lost £23m, the bosses would have been concerned about how the general public and investors would have viewed their financial-security measures and probably kept it all quiet.' In any event, Britoil did call in detectives, and DS Moir got to work. As DS Moir asked questions at Britoil's Rubislaw office, a clear picture began to emerge that Alison Anders was in over her head. He said: 'Alison forged both signatures on the document. 'The Britoil staff tried to contact Alison – phoning her on the landline at her flat and then calling at her flat, but there was nobody there. 'She'd gone – her bottle had crashed and she disappeared.' The dramatic first day of one of the north-east's biggest-ever criminal investigations revved up. And the next morning, it was showtime. DS Moir said: 'We got a search warrant for Alison Anders' home in Claremont Street. 'By that stage, we thought there was a possibility she might have taken her own life. 'Myself and Detective Inspector Peter Willox forced our way into the house. 'The drawers were empty. There was no suitcase. It was clear that she had gone somewhere.' In this situation, most people walking about what was a normal-looking flat would not have noticed anything of note around them. But detectives are trained to notice and question every single detail, no matter how small. And, for DS Moir, one thing stuck out. He said: 'I noticed ashes in the fireplace – I found a bit of paper that hadn't burned properly.' Printed on this scrap of paper was a bank-transfer serial number. DS Moir said: 'The serial number matched the transfer document. 'That confirmed 100% that Anders had been involved in this attempted fraud.' Fearing discovery – and prison – Anders had fled. But to where? It suddenly occurred to her colleagues that the timing of this audacious crime was not random. Anders had indeed chosen to commit attempted fraud on June 29 1988 for a very particular reason – it was her 30th birthday. Back then, air travel wasn't as frequent or as last-minute. People wouldn't just pack a bag for a city break as budget airlines and internet travel deals were a thing of the future. Any trips required a visit to a travel agent or airport booking desk – and lots of money. And so when people jetted off, it caught the attention of others. If you told your friends you had booked a flight, it would stick in their minds as out of the ordinary, particularly if they were to be quizzed by police about it later. But if you booked flights for your 30th birthday, that would be the perfect cover. It turned out that, a week earlier, Alison Anders had gone into a travel agency in Aberdeen and bought a one-way ticket to Amsterdam for £149. Anders had calculated that, had the fraud been a success and lain undiscovered for a few days, nobody would have thought it unusual for her to be enjoying her birthday abroad. But police had no idea where she really was – until a fantastic piece of detective work gifted them an astonishing piece of information.
BBC News
13-04-2025
- General
- BBC News
Kate Adie collection curated at Sunderland University
An archive featuring notebooks and pictures belonging to journalist and author Katie Adie has been curated in her former BBC reporter, described as a "trailblazer" in the world of journalism, grew up in Sunderland and covered a raft of major events, including the 1980 Iranian Embassy siege and the 1989 student uprising in Tiananmen bomb fragments and a chunk of the Berlin Wall are part of the special collection at the University of Sunderland, which will be taken out into the who donated more than 2,000 items to preserve a record of her professional career, said it was a "privilege to be a reporter because you poke your nose in". Adie began her career working in local radio at BBC Radio Durham and then BBC Radio Bristol, before moving into she became chief news correspondent for the BBC in 1989, holding the post for 14 years and reported from conflicts including both Gulf Wars and war in the currently presents From Our Own Correspondent on BBC Radio 4. 'First-rate hoarder' Adie said growing up in Sunderland had felt "magical" and she remembered an "immensely happy" childhood."The town itself was friendly," she said. "You can never stand in the bus queue without saying, 'Well, pet, what do you think?' It was just great." She said by donating the items she wanted people to "feel proud" of their about the items, Adie said: "Well first of all, it sounds as if I'm a first-rate hoarder."A reporter does not usually have much time to collect souvenirs so it's an eclectic collection, but I hope it represents the extraordinarily varied stories I've covered, from wars to royal garden parties." Adie donated the items in 2005 and grant funding was awarded last year to catalogue them as part of the university's "Special Collections", which can be viewed by appointment David Bell, university vice chancellor and chief executive, said: "Kate Adie is one of the most talented journalists and broadcasters of her generation and, as a native of Sunderland, her collection will be of interest both locally and further afield."The Kate Adie Collection was officially launched on Thursday. Follow BBC Sunderland on X, Facebook, Nextdoor and Instagram.
Telegraph
12-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Telegraph
Secret BBC list identifies ‘Britain's most hated accent'
The BBC ranked the Birmingham accent the 'most hated' on a secret league table, a veteran war correspondent has revealed. Kate Adie said accents were 'one of the country's complex matters' and stressed that they 'vary hugely and how they are received varies hugely.' Speaking at an event marking the cataloguing of a vast archive of material documenting her life and career at the University of Sunderland, the 79-year-old added: 'Years and years ago, the BBC had an unofficial league table of the most liked and the most hated accents. 'The view was that some of them drove people nuts up and down the country.' Adie, one of the BBC's most popular war reporters, asked her audience to guess the most disliked accent. A chorus of 'Birmingham' followed. The 79-year-old explained: 'From one end of the country to another, it's Birmingham! Michael Buerk, who comes from Birmingham, was once asked why he didn't use the accent. He said, 'I didn't want death threats'.' However, she told the event that Geordie was generally well-liked. Previous research initiated by BBC News revealed that most newsreaders across the corporation, as well as ITV, Channel 4, and Sky, speak with received pronunciation (RP). University Challenge host Amol Rajan revealed the research in 2022 and challenged Tim Davie, the BBC's director-general, to correct an on-air 'accent bias.' At the time, Mr Davie said the statistical bias towards RP was 'not particularly [surprising].' RP was adopted as the BBC standard in 1922 and was once regarded as the most 'typically British' accent. However, it is now spoken by just 2 per cent of the population. Newsnight presenter Victoria Derbyshire said she was proud of her Lancashire accent but admitted she feared her voice was 'too Northern' to advance at the BBC. Adie, who was raised in Sunderland, admitted she never had a strong accent, nor did her parents, who adopted her as a baby. She also revealed dissertations could be written on news programme accents and recalled her days at BBC Radio Durham when a locally accented producer would read the bulletin. 'We got complaints from everywhere,' she added. Adie's career at the BBC spanned 34 years, during which time she covered conflicts from China to Libya, Kosovo to Kuwait. Some of her most significant assignments included reporting on the Iranian Embassy siege in May 1980 and the 1989 Tiananmen Square protests and massacre. After complaining about the growing preoccupation with television journalists' looks, she stepped down as the BBC's chief news correspondent in 2003. At the time, she said bosses were obsessed with 'cute faces and cute bottoms and nothing else in between.' Adie's archive includes more than 2,300 objects, including dozens of notebooks, video clips, tapes, letters, and photographs. It was donated to the University of Sunderland several years ago, but funding to catalogue the items properly only came last year. Speaking about her life's work being documented in her home city, Adie said: 'My life was shaped by my childhood in Sunderland, and I've wanted to show some of the very happy memories, starting at home in Tunstall Park and including two bomb fragments, embedded in our sideboard, which thankfully arrived two years before my appearance. 'A reporter does not usually have much time to collect souvenirs, so it's an eclectic collection, but I hope it represents the extraordinarily varied stories I've covered, from wars to royal garden parties.' Sir David Bell, vice chancellor of the University of Sunderland, said of Adie's collection: 'She [Kate Adie] is one of the most talented journalists and broadcasters of her generation and, as a native of Sunderland, her collection will be of interest both locally and further afield.'
Yahoo
12-04-2025
- General
- Yahoo
BBC had unofficial league table of best and worst British accents, says top correspondent
The BBC had an 'unofficial league table' of British accents, in which Birmingham was ranked the worst, one of the broadcaster's most esteemed war correspondents has said. In remarks at a University of Sunderland event marking the opening of an archive of her work, Kate Adie – who now presents From Our Own Correspondent – said the BBC would receive widespread complaints over regional accents when she started her career. Ms Adie, who for years was one of the BBC's best-known journalists, said: 'It is one of this country's complex matters. Accents vary hugely and how they are received varies hugely. 'Years and years ago the BBC had an unofficial league table of the most liked and the most hated accents. 'The view was that some of them drove people nuts up and down the country. Geordie did pretty well. It's liked.' Confirming the answer given by the audience when asked to guess what the most disliked accent was, Ms Adie is reported by The Guardian to have said: 'From one end of the country to another, it's Birmingham. 'Michael Buerk, who comes from Birmingham, was once asked why he didn't use the accent. He said, 'I didn't want death threats'.' The veteran correspondent said that, when she started out as a station assistant at BBC Radio Durham, they would receive 'complaints from everywhere' if a locally-accented producer read the news bulletin. 'We got complaints from everywhere. The whole range of audience. They felt it wasn't right for news. It is a curious one,' she said. Ms Adie, aged 79, covered a host of conflicts while working as the BBC's chief news reporter between 1989 and 2003, having first joined the corporation as a radio technician and producer 20 years prior. Her first major break came covering the Iranian embassy siege in 1980, after which she went on to report from war zones around the world, including the Gulf War, the 1986 bombing of Libya, and the Bosnian war. During the Tiananmen Square massacre, Ms Adie was hit in the elbow by a bullet which is reported to have killed the man standing next to her, and was nicked by a bullet fired at point-blank range in Libya. She was awarded an OBE in 1993. The newly opened archive is reported to contain more than 2,300 items donated to the university, including Ms Adie's tapes, letters, photographs and the bullet which grazed her at Tiananmen Square. The Independent has approached the BBC for comment.
