“Bitter Winter” readers know the “lonely Uyghur” protests in Amsterdam. He did not manage to save his father and is now mourning him.
by Abdurehim Gheni Uyghur
“When they are struck with hardship, they say, ‘We belong to Allah, and to Him we shall return.’”— Surah Al-Baqarah, Ayah 156.
Due to the Chinese government’s oppressive and genocidal policies in East Turkestan (Ch. Xinjiang), which included preventing communication between Uyghurs in exile and their families back home, I lost all contact with my father, Gheni Khudaberdi, in 2017.
On July 6, 2024, Chinese police threatened my brother, forcing him to call me. They demanded that I refrain from testifying at the World Citizens Tribunal in The Hague, Netherlands, from July 8 to 12, where the crimes of the totalitarian Chinese dictator Xi Jinping were being prosecuted. They pressured me not to testify, but I angrily hung up the phone. This threat, just one of the many sinister plots that have infiltrated every Uyghur family, deeply shocked me.
Not long after, Chinese police took my father out of the detention camp, where he had been suffering from a serious illness. They had my brother record a video, urging me to stop my activism against the Chinese government, using it to emotionally manipulate me. Despite seeing the video, I remained firm and refused to bow to their psychological torture. I even used that painful video as further evidence of China’s atrocities at the World Citizens Tribunal. The judges, investigators, and even the lawyer appointed to represent the Chinese government were visibly shaken by the overwhelming evidence, and they expressed sympathy for me.
When the Chinese government failed to break my spirit, they once again sent my father and brother back to the detention camps. Two months later, on September 17, I received the devastating news from a friend that my father had died in the detention camp. Hearing this broke my heart, but instead of weakening me, it fuelled my anger and determination against the oppressive Chinese government. It strengthened my resolve to continue my fight for freedom and justice. My hopes for a brighter future were reignited, and my steps toward the hoped-for victory have become even more steadfast and unwavering.
Dear Father and Beloved Mother,
I promise you that I will turn all my grief into strength, forge my anger into a weapon, and strike at the heart of the Chinese government. Until my last breath, I will continue this fight. The colonial rule of the Chinese communist-totalitarian regime in East Turkestan will end. We, the people of East Turkestan, will live in freedom and dignity. Until that day comes, I will not stop.
My dear father, my angelic mother, I deeply regret that I could not fulfil my duties as your son. I was not able to be by your side during your illnesses, nor was I able to bring you any comfort. The brutal Chinese government has separated us, taking away the joy you would have felt in seeing your son’s achievements in the fight for freedom and the happiness of holding your grandchildren close. The emotional bonds between us have been cruelly severed. No words can truly capture the pain and scars left by this colonial life and forced exile.
Beloved father, the Chinese government has even prohibited funeral prayers for Uyghurs who die in East Turkestan. But here, in the free world, things are different. I met with the Turkish mosque committee near my home to arrange for your absentee funeral prayer. When I told them, through tears, how you had died in a Chinese detention camp, they asked me, “Didn’t you visit him in his old age? If you couldn’t be there, did you at least speak to him over the phone and hear his last words?” I explained to them that in East Turkestan, the Chinese authorities do not even hand over the bodies of Uyghur detainees to their families, and that performing funeral prayers is considered a crime. I told them how I have been unable to speak with my relatives for years. The congregation was stunned, shocked that such atrocities could exist in our world. They offered me their condolences and agreed to perform your absentee funeral prayer after Friday prayers.
My beloved father, you endured unspeakable suffering in this world, witnessing the horrific atrocities of the Chinese colonial regime, and now, you have moved on to the next life. You have left behind this world filled with darkness, oppression, and injustice, and entered the eternal and peaceful presence of the Almighty. May your soul rest in paradise.
Father, I am filled with the regret of not having been able to fulfil my duties as your son. I still remember the last time we spoke on the phone when I tearfully asked for your forgiveness. You comforted me, saying, “I understand your pain, my son.” Even though you couldn’t say it aloud, I felt your love through your heavy breaths, and you reassured me, “I am always proud of you, and you should also be proud of me.”
Dear Father, my role model and guide, you raised me from a young age to be a man who loves his nation, who is loyal to his homeland, and who stands up for justice. You worked tirelessly to instil these values in me. I grew up hearing the stories of our family’s noble lineage and the heroism of our ancestors from your lips. You passed on to me the national spirit you had inherited from our forefathers. You always told me, “Our ancestors have always stood against oppression and colonialism, and they have fought for freedom and justice.” You also shared with me that the hero General Muhammad Amin Imanov, one of the leaders of the East Turkestan Republic, was from our family. This filled my heart with a wave of pride and determination to resist the Chinese invaders.
Father, rest assured that I, your proud son, will never betray my nation or my people. I will never dishonour our family, you, or our homeland. I am your son, and the spirit of resistance and justice that runs in my veins comes from our ancestors.
May Allah grant us the chance to reunite in paradise, in freedom and happiness.
Goodbye, Father! May your resting place be in paradise.
Abdurehim Gheni is a Uyghur activist living in the Netherlands who became famous for his solo protests in Dam Square in Amsterdam. He also educates tourists to the reality of the Uyghur genocide.
