WAITING TO BE ARRESTED AT NIGHT

A Uyghur poet recounts his family’s decision to seek asylum in the U.S.

In 2015, Izgil was an active member of a “tight-knit group” of Uyghur poets in the Chinese province of Xinjiang, where government oppression was intensifying. While producing a Uyghur TV series, Izgil was told he must not include the Muslim minority’s traditional greeting assalamu alaikum and its response, wa alaikum assalamu, in any of the show’s dialogue. While Izgil was confident enough to protest this rule, his ordeal was just beginning. He soon found himself driving a friend to a “study center” to drop off necessities for a relative whose crime against the Chinese government was simply that “he had received religious education for a period in his youth.” Although the government framed these centers as sites for reeducation, in truth, the buildings were “outfitted with iron doors, window bars, and barbed wire,” and those who entered were not allowed to leave. As the situation deteriorated and more and more of their Uyghur friends and neighbors disappeared, Izgil and his wife realized that the only way to protect their daughters from fear and suffering was to move to the U.S. “Even if our daughters graduated from China’s top universities,” writes the author, “as Uyghurs they would inevitably face constant discrimination in their careers and in daily life.” Leaving China, however, was no easy task, logistically or emotionally. When they finally landed on American soil, Izgil remembers, “Even with a new world before us, my thoughts wandered constantly back toward home.” The text is lyrical, heartfelt, and perfectly paced; the narrative unfolds with a slow, simmering burn. Never shying away from vulnerability, the author shines a much-needed light on the complex, contradictory emotions of trading a homeland for a lifetime of both safety and survivor’s guilt.

A profoundly moving memoir about China’s oppression of the Uyghurs.