A testimony from our “100 Camp Testimonies” Book
I am ethnically Kazakh, and I was born in 1973 in Qaba County, Altay Prefecture, East Turkistan. After graduating from high school, I worked in the oil industry there. In 2009 I came to Kazakhstan for the first time to work at an oil field in Aktobe that had investment from China. I immigrated to Kazakhstan in 2014 with my family.
When I returned to East Turkistan to visit my sick father, my passport was confiscated by the Chinese authorities at the border on May 23, 2017. After my father’s surgery, the authorities refused to give me back my passport.
Since my wife and children were back in Kazakhstan, I did not want to sit around and do nothing, so I decided to find a job to make some money in the meantime before heading back to Kazakhstan. I started working at an iron ore mine in Koktokay, Altay Prefecture.
On July 16, 2017 I received a call from Chinese authorities at around 9 a.m. informing me that I hadn’t renounced my “hukou” (household registration) in Tarbaghatay (i.e. Chöchek, or Tacheng 塔城) after moving to Kazakhstan, and I must do it that day. I told them that I would do it later. I thought since I had not broken any law, I shouldn’t worry it. A policeman called me again the next morning, July 17, and asked me where I was in Koktokay, demanding that I must wait for them to arrive. After about seven hours, two policemen came, who were from Tarbaghatay police station, one of whom was Uyghur named Alim, and the other was Han Chinese named Wang. They told me that they came to help me with the renouncement of my hukou and that I needed to go with them to Tarbaghatay, which is more than 700 kilometers away. They decided to take a half an hour rest when we arrived at a town called Tiechanggou (铁厂沟镇), which is very close to Tarbaghatay. I requested to take a shower and change my clothes there, to which they agreed. It was way past midnight, i.e., early hours of July 18, when we arrived in Tarbaghatay.
They took me to a room on the second floor of the police station, the windows of which were all black, i.e., not transparent. After sitting down, three policemen came in, followed by a cameraman. They asked me to sit on a steel chair, and so began the interrogation. “Why did you immigrate to Kazakhstan?” I told them that since I am Kazakh and willing to live in Kazakhstan, so I decided to move there with my family in 2014. They asked if there was any other reason, to which I answered no. They asked if I prayed. I said that I had been busy with my work and had no time to pray; besides, I was not ready for religious activities and therefore I did not pray. They also asked what my daily activities were, who I interacted with, and etc. I told them I had talked to my neighbors. They asked if there were people that moved to where I was in Kazakhstan from China. I told them there were some and we lived in the same neighborhood, but since we were all busy with our work, we barely talked to each other. They asked me how many times I had visited Kazakhstan, to which I replied, “You confiscated my passport, so you should be able to count the entry stamps.” They asked if I had visited any other countries, to which I said no.
They asked why I had WhatsApp installed on my cell phone. I told them we used WhatsApp to contact other friends in Kazakhstan. They asked why I did not use WeChat. I said nobody used WeChat there because WhatsApp was already widely used. They said they had found a video clip about how to pray on my WhatsApp. I insisted that it was not about praying, rather about religious advice. I also told them that we did not pray five times a day in Kazakhstan. They accused me of violating the law by watching illegal videos and installing an illegal app (WhatsApp) on my phone.
In the afternoon of July 18, 2017 at 3 or 4 p.m. they took me to a detention center, with a black hood put over my head and shackles around my wrists and ankles. I had a medical checkup, i.e., on heart rate, blood pressure, etc. After the checkup, I was taken to a cell handcuffed and shackled. I spent a total of 98 days in that detention center before getting transferred to an internment camp. I weighed 98 kilograms when I was sent to that detention center, and my weight dropped to 71 kilograms when I was transferred to an internment camp.
In that detention center, I was given only one meal a day. If you complained about not getting enough food, you would be beaten. I had an argument with the guards circa October 14, 2017, and I was so badly beaten that I passed out. When I regained my consciousness, I was in a hospital, i.e., Tarbaghatay People’s Hospital. I saw Tahirjan, the deputy warden, sitting right next to me and it was him who took me there. The assaulter was a Kyrgyz man named Makay. I was hooked up to an IV (Intravenous) on account of my unconsciousness.
There were 42 people in a holding cell, in which at night only seven people could be able to sleep lying down at a time on account of overcrowdedness, so every two hours we took turns sleeping. Because of our good behavior at the detention center, 22 of us were approved to be transferred to an internment camp on November 23, 2017. I was transferred to the camp along with two other Uyghur detainees, Shöhret and Dilshat. We were handcuffed and shackled, with a black hood put over each of our head, and next to each of us sat two policemen in the vehicle.
When we arrived at the camp, we were asked to kneel before they removed the handcuffs, shackles, and black hoods. It was later that they allowed me to remove the yellow prison uniform that I used to wear at the detention center, and change into my own clothes brought to me by my parents. Two days prior to my transfer to the internment camp, they informed my parents that because of my good behavior at the detention center I was approved to be transferred to the camp. They also asked my parents to bring some clothes for me as well. At the camp, I was given one plastic wash basin, one towel, and one pair of slippers. I was taken to cell No. 8 on the second floor without handcuffs, nor shackles. For the first time in 98 days I was without handcuffs and shackles.
The cells on the second floor had metal doors, which had three separate locks that could only be opened by the camp guards and a tiny window, through which you could see half of someone’s face. There were eight beds in my cell, and I had two Uyghur cellmates when I first arrived, and I only remember one of their names, namely Turghun. They said the number of internees arriving to the camp was increasing. This internment camp was a sanatorium before it was repurposed as a camp, situated next to a road outside of Tarbaghatay, with an alcohol factory nearby. I was held in cell No. 8 for quite some time. The food as well as the overall conditions at the camp were a bit better than those of the detention center. They fed us salad with two steamed buns for breakfast, a good portion for one person. They said our “reeducation” would start in a week. There was a big hall with a capacity of about 100 people. Most of the internees were Uyghurs, but there were other people from different ethnic groups: Kazakhs, Kyrgyz, and Tungans (i.e. Hui Muslims).
We mainly studied Mandarin, politics, and history. They taught us how China liberated East Turkistan, Tarbaghatay’s history and current situation, red songs (hongge 红歌 ‘Chinese patriotic songs’ e.g. “Without the Communist Party, There Would Be No New China”). We always had the flag raising ceremony.
Sometime in March of 2018 we were divided into different groups according to our ethnicity. On March 17, they suddenly told me that they would take me to another camp. They then asked me to call my wife and children in Kazakhstan and tell them to come and visit me. They said they would continue to hold me there if my family didn’t come. I told them that my wife and children were already citizens of Kazakhstan and could not come. They replied, “You did not get a good education here. Therefore, we will take you to another camp”. I told them it did not matter where I was held, and I did not care.
They took me to another large newly built internment camp, which was located outside of Tarbaghatay. The building in which I was held had 10 cells, each of which held about 40 internees, with 40 triple bunk beds and a toilet; I was taken to cell No. 20. All cells held internees of different ethnicities. The head of this internment camp was a Han Chinese man named Pan Xingmin. I was surprised to see all the Uyghur internees with whom I was held back at the detention center: Shöhret, Kurbanjan, Alim, and Abdurishit. They said that cam was better than the detention center because they did not have to go to class. Later we all had to be “re-educated” there too.
The internees were grouped into two classes according to their educational backgrounds: ordinarily managed class and strictly managed class. My cellmates and I were assigned to the ordinarily managed class, while most of the Uyghurs were assigned to the strictly managed class. My roommates and I had two classes per day. The classroom was a large hall surrounded by wire mesh and the teacher stood outside the wire mesh barrier while teaching. We had to study Mandarin, were forced to speak Mandarin, and had to introduce ourselves in Mandarin.
On April 17, 2018 Pan Xingmin (the head of the camp) told me and another Kazakh man named Turdibeg, “We have received a notice from the higher-ups, and we will take you to another camp today.” He also asked us if we were ready to reunite with our families in Kazakhstan, to which I answered, “Of course, we are ready. We would love to go back to Kazakhstan if you let us.” Pan Xingmin continued to say that he had figured out that Turdibeg’s wife also lived in Kazakhstan, and that we had to go to another camp before we could be released.
We were taken to another camp in shackles, with a black hood put over our heads, exactly a month after the previous transfer. We were taken to cell No. 7 on the third floor, which had 8 beds. I did not know any of my cellmate. After talking to them, I learned that almost all of them either immigrated to or visited Kazakhstan in the past, and they told me that good news was coming our way: We would be release soon and could go back to Kazakhstan. We waited a week, 10 days, and still no good news. We were told to continue with our classes. On September 3, 2018, I was asked if I wanted to go back to Kazakhstan, to which I answered a resounding yes. But they said that I had not studied well and that they would take me back to the previous camp again. When I returned to the previous camp, my former cellmates were surprised to see me again, assuming I was already released. I told them I did not know what was going on. I continued with my classes as before: Learning the same stuff and singing the same red songs.
They held a sham trial in the camp on November 23, 2018. They tried those who prayed, sold the Koran, and those who showed discontent towards the regime. Those whose names were read out loud would remain there, while others whose names were not mentioned would be sent to another camp. My name was not mentioned in that sham trial, so I was taken back to a previous camp. I was put in cell No. 5 on the second floor. Again, my former cellmates asked me why they brought me in and took me away so many times.
I thought they were going to release me soon. I heard that the Chinese regime had established four factories in the camp: One manufactured automobile parts, one produced garments, one produced food and drinks, and the last one produced baked goods. I also heard that we were going to be given two sets of clothes and would start working in those factories, and no more classes. We still had to sing red songs before we ate, and if we hadn’t done so, there would have been no food for us.
I chose to learn how to sew and learned all the skills in three days. The Japanese electric sewing machine that I used had three thread tension settings: High, medium, and low. Initially, we made pant belts. The stitches must be straight, or we had to redo it. Later we sewed other clothes: School uniforms and various workwear sets. I did the sewing work for about a month. The food at the factory was a little better than that of the camp. Normally they did not show us the clothes brands, which were stitched by their own workers. Once they showed us an item with a brand name on, which was a small towel used by Nanhang (i.e. China Southern Airlines) in China. Later, they scolded us for having sewed the wrong brand onto the items, and asked us to remove them. Then we had a meeting for a whole day, emphasizing that what we did in that factory should not be mentioned anywhere else. We were being watched via surveillance cameras while working in that factory. We did not see any brands ever since that incident. We made pants in addition to making pant belts. Each of us sewed a different part of pants.
In the afternoon of December 23, 2018, while I was sewing pants, the loudspeaker of the factory suddenly called out my name and said, “Erbakit Otarbay, who is in seat No. 147, gather your belongings and get ready immediately.” Two policemen came right after the announcement and took me away, and apart from me there were more than 10 internees that the policemen rounded up. One of them was Yu Jian, whose father was Han Chinese and his mother was Russian. Another one was a Kazakh man named Khojarkhan. There was another man named Saidulla, who was with his wife and daughter. I don’t recall the others’ names. We were not released on that day. We were told that the officials from our local community administrations (Shequ Guanli 社区管理) had to come and sign some documents first. Two officials, one man and the other woman, from my local community, Hepingqu, arrived on that day.
After taking care of the paperwork there, we left that factory and arrived at my apartment at 2 or 3 a.m. in the middle of the night. They told me to take a good rest in my apartment and finish the rest of the paperwork the next day. I could not sleep that night because for the first time in a long time I was in a room without an iron fence. I went outside in the morning, and I was excited to see the bright sunlight. The community officials came and said, “You must inform us wherever you go, and one of us has to be with you at all time.” Although I was still not free, I was happy that I could go outside to the markets and get some groceries.
On May 22, 2019, a police officer came to my apartment and said, “You can now go back to Kazakhstan with your passport and green card. Tomorrow, a policeman will come and take you to the border by car.” The next day a police officer came and drove me to the land border, where I met two other women with whom I was held in the same camp. They were Bakit and Saltanat, both of whom used to be teachers. After finishing the formalities, we crossed the border into Kazakhstan.
I would like to share some additional notes on my internment. I was punished several times during my internment. I was extrajudicially interned and had never committed any crime, and I was subjected to unjust treatment, so I got into a lot of arguments with the camp guards. They beat me up several times with an electric baton. I have scars on my head, face, and hands. They often beat me with a stick or an electric baton. They deprived me of food and water while I was being punished. Sometimes they gave us very little food: Half of a steamed bun. Sometimes we had to drink the water in the toilet urinal because we had to do it to survive. I was taken to the hospital once when I passed out on account of beating. I also underwent appendectomy in the hospital. I have scars on my arms caused by shackles. Some internees died because of beatings and other kind of punishment. There was a Kazakh man named Kosun, who was beaten to death. I saw female internees with shaved heads, and heard women screaming and crying while I was held in my cell, but I did not see with my own eyes that women were sexually abused or raped. I never experienced good things during my internment.
Prior to my release, I was asked to sign the non-disclosure agreement, demanding that I tell no one about what had happened to me, what I had seen, and what I had heard during my internment. I was warned that there would be consequences for my parents, aunts and other relatives in East Turkistan if I broke the non-disclosure agreement. When I called my parents after my release while I was in Kazakhstan, they asked me not to speak up against the Chinese regime because they wouldn’t be able to get their passports and wouldn’t be able to visit me in Kazakhstan. On the contrary, I have spoken out and shared my testimony through YouTube, and on December 9, 2021 a video interview was published by the BBC. The Chinese officials told my parents that I spoke out on my internment. Now when I call my parents, they don’t pick up the phone anymore. I can only ask my friends about my parents’ well-being.
