Latest news with #Ogi
Business News Wales
14 hours ago
- Business
- Business News Wales
Ogi Partners with Hugh James to Improve Network Resilience Across its UK Operations
Leading UK law firm Hugh James has signed a multi-year deal with Wales-based telecoms provider Ogi, securing a high-capacity, resilient connectivity solution for its estate of UK offices, including its Cardiff HQ. Ogi said the investment reflected a broader shift in the legal sector. With legal teams increasingly reliant on real-time collaboration, AI-driven solutions, and ironclad cybersecurity, cutting-edge digital infrastructure is no longer a luxury but a necessity, the firm said. Ogi's bespoke connectivity packages are built to handle growing digital demands, giving businesses like Hugh James the speed, resilience, and scalability it needs to stay ahead. 'With an ever-growing demand for data-driven legal services and hybrid working environments, secure, ultra-reliable connectivity is no longer a luxury – it's a necessity,' said Hugh James's Chief Technology Officer, Rupert Poole. 'As a firm working across multiple locations, we need fast, resilient, and secure connectivity to deliver the best service to our clients. Ogi's bespoke solution gives us exactly that – the scalability to grow and the security to protect what matters most.' Ogi's Chief Executive Officer, Ben Allwright, said: 'Hugh James is a forward-thinking firm that understands the power of robust digital connectivity. We're delighted to deliver a tailored connectivity solution that not only supports their daily operations but also positions them for future growth.' As law firms handle heavier digital workloads, rising cybersecurity threats, and complex compliance challenges, cutting-edge connectivity is a business-critical asset. Ogi said that in an ever-competitive landscape this investment strengthens Hugh James's ability to handle data-intensive workloads, cloud-based legal systems, and hybrid working, making operations remains seamless and secure across multiple jurisdictions. Wales-based Ogi is committed to powering Wales's business landscape with next-generation digital solutions, making sure firms like Hugh James can operate securely, efficiently, and without limits in an increasingly digital-first world.
Yahoo
06-05-2025
- Yahoo
DC police mourn sudden death of K-9 Ogi
WASHINGTON () — D.C. police are mourning the sudden loss of one of their K-9s. The Metropolitan Police Department (MPD) announced that K-9 Ogi had suddenly died on May 1. President Trump announces 2027 NFL draft will be held in DC Ogi was partnered with one of MPD's sergeants since Sept. 16, 2022, serving as an explosive detection dog. He and his handler were deployed 69 times around D.C. 'Ogi served with unwavering dedication,' MPD stated in a on Instagram. 'K-9 Ogi's contributions and the impact he made during his service will never be forgotten. He was more than a working dog—he was a trusted partner and beloved member of our MPD family.' Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
Business News Wales
02-05-2025
- Business News Wales
The Online Safety Act is Only the Beginning
It hit me during a quiet evening at home, watching Netflix's Adolescence. Not as a technologist. Not as someone who's spent 30 years in digital infrastructure. But as a grandfather. It struck me that parenting in the age of the algorithm is just as uncertain as when our kids first started going out to play. Only now, the playground is invisible – and relentless. The raw, sometimes uncomfortable reality of growing up online stopped me in my tracks. I've seen the internet grow over my career. But I hadn't fully understood the weight today's young people carry as they navigate a digital world never designed with them – or any of us – in mind. The UK's Online Safety Act, signed into law in 2023, aims to address that. It introduces a duty of care for tech companies, with Ofcom responsible for enforcement. Its goal is to make the UK 'the safest place in the world to be online,' especially for children. It's a big step. But let's be honest – legislation alone isn't enough. It never is. Nearly a quarter of children aged just 5 to 7 now own a smartphone – with most already active on platforms like TikTok and WhatsApp, despite being underage. But that's just the start. Ofcom found that 97% of children aged 3 to 17 were online in 2022, mostly using phones or tablets. For them, the internet isn't just a tool – it's a space. A place to explore, connect, and grow, much like the playgrounds of our own childhoods. But it's also a space where harm lives. Where violence, abuse, and misinformation are often part of the background noise – something many children accept as just another part of being online. The Act rightly places more responsibility on platforms to create safer digital environments. But enforcement is only as effective as the systems – and the shared understanding – behind it. At Ogi, we connect communities across Wales, and we see the digital divide in real terms. For example, a parent in Cardiff might have ultrafast broadband, digital literacy, and well-resourced schools, while a parent in rural Pembrokeshire may be facing the same digital risks with far less support. Digital safety isn't just about rules. It's about reach, education, and confidence. It means putting connectivity and understanding side by side. And this isn't just a tech issue. Schools, councils, business leaders – we all have a role to play. If you lead a team, build products, or shape services that touch people's lives, you're influencing the digital world our children are growing up in – whether you realise it or not. In tech, we often talk about responsible connectivity. That means asking: Are our systems designed for real life? Do they support wellbeing, not just engagement? Can we recognise when technology unintentionally amplifies harm? And for employers – are we supporting the parents on our teams as they try to help their children navigate this shifting landscape? I believe business can – and should – be a force for good. Here in Wales, with our tight-knit communities and growing tech sector, we have a real opportunity to lead. Imagine local businesses partnering with schools to offer digital skills workshops. Or co-creating practical, accessible guidelines for safer online behaviour. And crucially, imagine listening to young people themselves. Because they already live in this world. One scene in Adolescence made that painfully clear: a boy explains the meaning behind certain emojis to baffled adults. Every child watching understood immediately. The adults had no idea. That moment stayed with me. We often talk about protecting children from the online world. But how often do we ask what they can teach us about it? If we're going to help set meaningful boundaries, we first need to understand the online spaces they move through – not just try to control them from the outside. This is where families come in. Tech companies have a responsibility, yes – but so do we at home. Parents, carers, and grandparents have always helped children navigate risk. We taught them to be careful crossing the road, not to talk to strangers, to come home when the streetlights came on. The digital world needs the same kind of guidance: consistent rules, open conversations, and a shared understanding of what respect and safety look like – online as well as offline. We often talk about 'future-proofing' infrastructure – laying the right foundations now for whatever comes next. That thinking applies here too. We owe it to the next generation to focus not just on speed and access, but on trust, values, and resilience. And that starts, as it always has, at home. Yes, the Online Safety Act is a step in the right direction. But it's only a step. The rest is up to us – to act as communities, to lead as employers, and to listen. Really listen – as parents, carers, and grandparents. Because growing up has never been easy. But growing up online shouldn't hurt the way it does for far too many children today.
Pembrokeshire Herald
28-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Pembrokeshire Herald
Unlocking potential: The benefits of hiring ex-offenders for Welsh businesses
By Melissa Knight, Marketing Manager, Ogi TV shows rarely have that big moment these days – that rattle of emotion – but Adolescence on Netflix has it. It hit harder than I'd thought it would. Maybe because I still carry echoes of my own teenage years. Maybe because the world that today's teens are growing up in feels so unrecognisable. Or maybe because it all just felt a little too real. The show follows a 13-year-old boy caught up in something terrible – and it doesn't take long before you stop seeing a character on a screen. You start seeing bits of someone you used to be. That awkwardness. That quiet yearning to belong to something, anything. It stirs something deep. A reminder of how fragile those years really are. When I was thirteen, the 'playground' was a real place. It was splintered wood and metal slides that got too hot in summer. It was scraped knees, whispered secrets, dares you regretted before you hit the ground. But what happened in the park stayed in the park. Fall out with someone? It was over by the time you got home. Embarrassed yourself? You laughed it off by the next day. There was a mercy in how temporary it all was. Now, the playgrounds have shifted. They're glowing screens and endless scrolls. They're everywhere – and nowhere. What happens in them doesn't stay there. It follows. It's screenshotted. Shared. Immortalised. The stakes feel higher, the audience wider. And the exit? Not so obvious. It's easy to forget how hard it is to grow up while being watched. Not just by friends and peers, but by an invisible world waiting to react. And while some corners of the internet offer comfort, others are far more insidious – especially for boys. Adolescence pulls back the curtain on that. Shows how some of these digital spaces dress up in language that sounds supportive, even healing – until you listen a little closer and hear the undercurrents of anger, of control, of something deeply warped. And it's subtle. A new phrase. A new tone. The way a joke lands that makes you tilt your head and wonder. The bravado that sometimes feels a little too rehearsed. These shifts in language and posture – they tell a story, if you're listening closely. One scene in Adolescence made that painfully clear: a boy explains the meaning behind certain emojis to baffled adults. Every child watching understood immediately. The adults had no idea. That moment stayed with me. Because that was it – the line in the sand. The quiet reveal that there's a whole world of coded language, of cultural shorthand, happening in plain sight. A language that, once upon a time, you spoke fluently – and now, you don't. Not fluently, anyway. That gap? That's the gap we need to notice, and bridge. Since watching, I've been thinking a lot more about those spaces we grew up in – how physical they were. Playgrounds where risk came in the form of a fall from the monkey bars, not a comment thread that spirals into humiliation. Community spaces where you learned about people through presence, not profile pictures. But now, the playgrounds are algorithmically curated. The games have changed. And the communities? They're scattered across platforms, even continents – some warm and welcoming, others cold and echoing with cruelty. I've found myself paying closer attention lately. Asking better questions – not to interrogate, but to understand. 'What was it about that video that made it funny?' and 'Do you think they really meant that, or were they just trying to go viral?' Sometimes those questions lead somewhere. Sometimes they don't. But the asking matters. It says: I'm here. I see you. And maybe that's the most any of us can do – be present. Not in every scroll or click, but in the pauses in between. In the quiet moments when the noise dies down and the real stuff can surface. Because the truth is, the risks of growing up haven't disappeared – they've just changed shape. They've gone digital. They've gone quiet. And they're far more persistent. So, we adapt. We put up a few guardrails – not walls, just soft boundaries. Filters. Time limits. Conversations. Not because we want to control the experience, but because we know and remember what it was like to fall. And we'd rather the landing not be so hard. Adolescence didn't just remind me of what it means to grow up – it reminded me how much the environment matters. That the scaffolding around a person – their playground, their peers, their virtual hideouts – shapes them. And that those scaffolds are ours to notice, to question, to repair when needed. I didn't expect a TV show to shake me like this one did. But I'm glad it did. Because it made it clear: we might not be able to rebuild the old playgrounds. But we can still help make the new ones safer. And maybe that's enough.
