There is a knot in my throat, and it won’t go away.
Did you know...
囚, the word “prisoner” in Chinese, is literally 人 “person” placed inside a box
In the extremely unlikely chance of getting extradited and/or kidnapped back to Hong Kong, the following content is a fictional story dreamt up by a friend of mine:
We didn’t know each other’s names or faces. After weeks and months of working together, we built trust as teammates. Perhaps I should have asked: is it okay that I say we are teammates?
Almost every waking minute, we were in the group chat working on something: media pitch, campaign planning, research, brainstorming. Behind our aliases, we got to know each other’s personalities, work habits, and sleep cycles (or lack thereof).
During those early days, we were hopeful. Not sure when the numbers started to dwindle. I left when the National Security Law came into force, hoping that they wouldn’t be criminalized in association with me - a foreign national working in international advocacy.
It didn’t really matter anyway. The Hong Kong government and the Chinese government will never let them go. They will remain trapped in a box, whether we call that the prison or the city of Hong Kong.
There is a knot in my throat, and it won’t go away.
I couldn’t cry when they were arrested. I was writing a media statement to bring public attention to the arrests.
I couldn’t cry when they were at trial. I was demanding diplomatic attention during their court proceedings.
I couldn’t cry when they were in jail. I was summarizing data on political arrests and incarceration in Hong Kong.
Outside these walls, prisoner support organizations mobilize support for prisoners and their families. But ultimately, all we can do is wait. One minute has passed. Two months have passed. Six years have passed. Despite my best attempt to compartmentalize these thoughts, I feel a repetitive, obsessive combination of rage and sadness and frustration and disgust.
There is a knot in my throat, and it won’t go away.
People say, “How are you doing today?”
No one really wants to hear me scream out, “I am choking on mind-numbing rage and survivor’s guilt because my friends are serving time in a prison cell an ocean away and I am here with a bloody smile as if everything is fine.”
So I say, “Thriving, the weather is beautiful today.”
There is a knot in my throat, and it won’t go away.
Whenever I manage to stuff the endless heartbreak into an emotional black box, I turn my attention to making my dream into a reality. It sounds so silly when I say my dream aloud, but I will speak it into existence:
I want an independent Hong Kong with a thriving democracy and diverse society. To do so, Hong Kong must be freed from the Chinese Communist Party’s one-party governance over the People’s Republic of China. I fight for self-determination for all of the PRC’s occupied territories. On that day, the CCP and PRC will answer for their crimes against humanity.
Comments ()