The Missing Uyghur Children

Maryem Abdulhamid, 47, is a mother of four. She fled Xinjiang and came to Istanbul in 2016 with only two of her children at the time. Abdulhamid was pregnant with her fourth child when she decided to leave Xinjiang, fearing that she would be persecuted by Chinese authorities for having another child. Abdulhamid’s third daughter, Rizwangul, was just 12 years old the last time she saw her and was left in the care of her husband back in 2016.

“The main reason that we could not take my daughter to Turkey was because she was not given a passport at the time,” Abdulhamid said. “We have never committed any crimes or never had a criminal record and we were positive that now that she had her Turkish passport they would let me reunite with her and her siblings but they [the Chinese authorities] have not done this for the last four years.”

The last time she spoke to her daughter Rizwangul was on a brief phone call in 2017, when she managed to get through to their family cell phone. Abdulhamid described her daughter’s words as being, “Where is my father? I am alone here with no one to look after me.”

It was later discovered through relatives that Abdulhamid’s husband has been taken to a concentration camp in Xinjiang, leaving her daughter with no one to look after her. The reason for his arrest? He had helped his wife and two children go to Istanbul and was being punished unjustly for that.

Abdulhamid’s daughter told her mother, “Other relatives were not able to look after me due to the government’s involvement and strict surveillance. Please help me.”

That was last time that she heard her daughter’s fearful voice; Abdulhamid has not been able to contact her since. It has now been four years and she still dreams of one day reuniting with her daughter.

An estimated 1.5 million Uyghurs have been detained in concentration camps, separated from their loved ones. Others have escaped but had to leave family members behind, including young children. Many of their stories are similar to Abdulhamid’s: they were able to travel abroad during a brief window of opportunity in 2016, but couldn’t get passports for their children immediately. They left China, thinking they would arrange the paperwork and reunite their families. But the window slammed shut, and now many mothers and fathers have no idea where their children are today, or who is taking care of them.

Abdulhamid and a group of Uyghur mothers got together on International Women’s Day in March and walked for two weeks from Istanbul to Ankara to peacefully protest outside the United Nations office. She also contacted the Chinese Embassy but had been told they could not do anything for her.

She cried as she asked me: “Where is the justice in this world?”

“I can’t describe in words how I feel as a mother who is not even able to see my daughter. I have been so heartbroken as the children who are with me are not only forcibly separated from their father but also their sister. My youngest child has never even seen her father before.”

Abdulhamid broke down and took a moment to collect herself before saying, “I would have committed suicide if it wasn’t for my faith in God and children who are with me. My heart aches, it is unbearable thinking that my child is not here with me and I cannot get her back.”