Uyghur journalist Gheyret Niyaz was sentenced to 15 years in prison last week by the Chinese government, because he spoke to foreign journalists during the unrest last year.

By Agnes Chen

The harsh sentencing illustrates the human right situation and lack of freedom of speech in the Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region, says former political prisoner Giyratjan Rozi.

"They locked me up for more than 10 months. Without trial, without sentence, I did not know when I would be released. I was only 21 years old," says Giyratjan Rozi, the formal political prisoner and now the chairman of the Uygur Support Group in the Netherlands.

"They hung me up with handcuffs letting me I stand reluctantly with tiptoe." He points to the visible handcuffs and cigarette burn wounds on his arms.

"That was a prison for political prisoners, the condition was especially poor. Middle of the night my body was covered with bugs. The bugs crept into my wound in my back and the wound soon became a bowl size pustule.

They did not allow to see a doctor; one day they called me out and cut open the pustule with knife. There was so much blood. I remembered I thought: that is how vicious the Communist Party is."

Traditional clothes

The ten months of torture did not stop him from devoting himself to the Uyghur community, in fact the ideals grew stronger than ever.

With preserving the Uyghur culture in mind, he used his design background and started a clothing line, combining the traditional elements and modern dress cut.

"Due to the totalitarian reign of the Chinese government many traditions faded away gradually. My clothing brand made people start wearing the Uyghur traditional clothing again, and helps to strengthen their cultural identity."

At the zenith of his business, he opened three stores in Urumqi, and he was invited to showcase his clothing in various places.

However, this success soon led to a series of disasters. His factory was closed down, equipment was confiscated, and endless lawsuits and allegations fatigued him physically and mentally.

With the last hope for justice, he went to Beijing to present his case, but all he got was a lukewarm response by the government official: "China is like that, so is the Communist Party. Your problems won't be resolved."

Psychological war

Apart from being disheartened, he received an order from the Public Security Bureau requesting him to surrender his passport.

"Surrendering passport is a sort of psycho-war strategy. They just want to crush you step by step," says Giyratjan Rozi.

Hoping that there was justice somewhere else than in China, he decided to leave the country and started his 11 years life in exile.

In exile

When the conversation comes to his elderly parents and the recent illness of his mother, he bursts into tears.

"I did not cry when I was tortured in the jail, but every time I think of my mother, I have to cry." Wiping away the tears, Giyratjan sais: "The life in exile is inhuman. I want to go home, really. When I die, I want to be buried in the Uyghur soil!"