The online world has lost another rising star, and this time, the cost is a life cut heartbreakingly short. Efecan Kultur, a 24-year-old content creator from Turkey who built a following through his mukbang videos on TikTok, has died—leaving a wave of grief and reflection in his wake. His passing isn’t just another tragedy. It’s a glaring, painful warning about a social media trend that continues to entertain millions while quietly endangering the lives of its creators.
Kultur was best known for recording himself consuming enormous quantities of Turkish food in front of the camera. With more than 150,000 followers, his content had a loyal audience. He wasn’t just showing meals—he was showcasing excess. In the world of mukbang, that is the currency of attention. But behind every satisfying crunch or overloaded plate was a reality that no filter could hide forever: his health was deteriorating rapidly.
In December, the young creator’s body began to shut down. What started as minor fatigue quickly turned into something much more serious. Reports described how he struggled with breathing, could no longer stand on his own, and eventually became fully reliant on a machine to assist his oxygen intake. He was hospitalized due to complications connected to obesity, and his physical state declined so drastically that bruises began to appear across his body. On March 7, the news broke—Efecan Kultur had died, alone in his hospital bed, another name added to the growing list of influencers who paid the ultimate price for internet fame.
To understand the depth of this loss, we must first understand the culture that helped fuel it. Mukbang, a trend that first captured audiences in South Korea in the early 2010s, involves social media users recording themselves eating excessive quantities of food while talking with viewers. The appeal is oddly simple: comfort, relatability, the intimacy of sharing a meal—even a virtual one. But it quickly evolved into something far more extreme. More food. More volume. More spectacle. For some creators, that means risking everything.
Kultur is far from the first to fall victim. Just last year, 24-year-old Chinese influencer Pan Xiaoting collapsed after a live-streamed event in which she attempted to eat 10 kilograms of food over the span of 10 hours. Her stomach reportedly ruptured during the challenge. In June, Filipino content creator Dongz Apatan—known for his mukbang videos featuring enormous portions of fried chicken—suffered a stroke and died the following day. These aren’t isolated incidents. They’re symptoms of a wider, often unseen crisis unfolding in the digital age.
Health experts and behavioral psychologists have long voiced concerns about mukbang content. A study published in the International Journal of Mental Health and Addiction found that among South Korean students, nearly one-third of those who watched mukbang regularly self-reported symptoms of disordered eating. These behaviors, if left unchecked, can spiral into long-term health complications—and in cases like Kultur’s, death.
Even those who have made millions from mukbang fame have suffered. Nikocado Avocado, a Ukrainian-American YouTuber whose real name is Nicholas Perry, has publicly documented the physical cost of his eating routines. Once fit and health-conscious, Perry ballooned in weight as he leaned into the mukbang genre. Over the years, he has spoken about severe sleep issues, chronic pain, and gut problems. He has since lost more than 100 kilograms and undergone several surgical procedures to remove excess skin—part of a long road to reclaim his health.
As the mukbang world grows, not all creators have ignored the dangers. Indian mukbanger Ashifa ASMR, who commands over 720,000 subscribers on YouTube, began adding disclaimers to her content in 2023. She clarified that her meals are filmed in separate sittings, a responsible move to protect both her health and her viewers’ perceptions. But those efforts are still too few in a space where the appetite for spectacle rarely acknowledges the human body’s limits.
Efecan Kultur’s passing has reignited the conversation. It’s forcing fans, creators, and critics alike to ask hard questions: How far is too far for entertainment? What is the cost of virality when creators push themselves beyond physical and mental safety just to keep views up and algorithms happy? In Kultur’s case, the cost was his life.
At just 24, he should have had his entire future ahead of him. Instead, his story ends with a hospital bed and a grieving family. The vibrant, expressive young man who once brought his followers along for meals full of laughter and tradition is now gone. And while the trend continues to thrive, his death has left behind a silent pause, a space for reflection, and a desperate need for change.
