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Uyghur (Kucha)
08-04-10, 20:51
A Uyghur Story of Suffer
By “Uyghur”

I’d like to use just “Uyghur” for my name. It is not because I am afraid of using my real name, but this is a tragic story of which every Uyghur youth has been experiencing in these days.
I was born in Kucha where may ancestor lived generation after generation. By the time of my childhood, my family became extremely poor as the government imposed various taxes on us and forced my parents work for the government projects.
My father, mother and my beloved brother said “being in the farm is just burning in the hell, we don’t want you to live like us, the only way you could out of this hell is studying…”.
They all worked extremely hard, wore ragged clothing, and ate to survive only to save money for my study. I decided not to disappoint them. I studied hard day and night and my school results were outstanding…
My family saved enough to pay the high fees and expenses and I was able to start my study in a university in Urumqi.
As I needed continous support for the next year’s fees and for my expenses, my brother had to work as a firewoodman – he would bring firewood from a jungle to sale for bakers. He asked for help from his friends to pay for my fees and other expenses...
Returning home on a holiday, I found that my father died. He refused to go to a hospital to be treated to save money for my study! My study was costing my family everything. Even my father’s life. What I had thought was everything was going to be fine if I could graduate…
However, the tragidy was not over yet. In the final year of my 5 years study, my family had been facing up even worse tragidies.
One day I received a letter from my mother: “my son I had to tell you now, I cannot afford to send any money, we have nothing worth left, but I don’t know how could you live withut any it…” The letter continues, “your brother was tired and so slept in his cart when he was carrying firewook from the jungle. The donkey was lost and accidently came close to an army base. The army officials were suspecious and confiscated his donkey and cart and detained him in their base. The officials did not listen to his explanations. After I heard about it, I went to many government officials, pleaded them, but no one listened to me. Though they could not find any avidence against you brother, they sentenced him for a year….”. My mother continued, “my dear son be brave, you must graduate, you need a job to earn money to help your brother, you don’t need to worry about me…”
I was unable to contunue reading the letter. I felt dizzyness and my eyes blured. I wanted to give up my study. I hoped to be with my mother and brother. Unfortunately, I had no money even to buy a bus ticket to go back home…
At last, I decided to complete my studies in spite of its great “costs”. “My brother had that accident to support my study. My mother is correct. If I have a good job, then I have the money to rescue my brother. Othewise no body listen to a poor person like me”, I thought.
I decided to work at weekends and looked for work from door to door, but it was found to be impossible have one as ther many graduates looking for work. I had even not graduted and nobody interested me. The only thing was that I had to wash dishes at weekends for my food.
At the end of the year, I received a letter from my neighbour in Kucha: “Come back please, your brother is released, but he is not well. He was biten by a prison dog and his body is full of injures. At first he seemed alright, but after a couple of days of his release he started laugh and yell all the time. Your mother is unable to deal with him, now. Your brother was tortured severely in prison and was injected something. He was forced to eat human excremete and drink urine. He has now severe mentall problems. He told us all these when he just released, then he went crazy like that. You mother has got ill, too. The government officials did not car them. As you know, we are poor farmers. Nobody listen to us. We can’t effort to buy meat and vegetable. What we neighbour could do to help them is just offering a loaf of bread each day. We cannot afford to give them more than that….. you have to come back quickly and look after them… ”
I told all above to my university addmistrators. They show sympathy and encouraged me to stay at school to graduate. My generous classmates collected money to pay for my graduation fees and it enabled me to graduate. My academic results were outstanding….
I looked for a job in Uurmqi. Money could make a differnece for my family. In spite of my fluency in Mandarine language, my outstanding results and having studied a highly sought subject, my job application has been rejected in everywhere. All the employers are Han Chinese. Some of them even told me directly that they don’t want Uyghurs.
I have to go back to Kucha with empty pockets. My mother had already sold our farmland to pay for my expenses. We have nothing except an old two room house. I am unable to sleep at night as my brother talks load and suffers from the pain in the detention...
I have nothing to eat for my breakfast. I have tried to knock each possible door in Kucha, but nobody has offerred me a work. I have to come to family empty handed each day. Everyday is the same... I have no courage to look at my mother’s fading eyes. I wait long outside my door ashamed of being useless. Each day is the same... None of my classmates has got a job yet, and they are unable to help. It has been now 3 months…
Tell me please, what do I do? who do I blaime?
My mother’s illness has been deterioting and now she is in bed. My young and healthy brother is now useless...
Hoping to find an answer, I raised my head and pleaded God: “Oh, God show me the right way, lead me to the best possible direction to expel the Chinese communist government and immigrant Han Chinese who sucking our blood”.
December 2008
(Translated by , Adel.Uyghur)

Unregistered
09-04-10, 02:59
Regretly God's eye has been blinden since more than 100 years, therefore we have to give up to wait for God's help.
The Kalashnikov can be our real God, at least in next 50 years !

Unregistered
09-04-10, 10:29
I appaciate the last sentance. Kalashnikov is the God gift, Until Uyghur accept it then God might open eyes.


Regretly God's eye has been blinden since more than 100 years, therefore we have to give up to wait for God's help.
The Kalashnikov can be our real God, at least in next 50 years !

Unregistered
11-04-10, 22:38
Every Uyghur suffers