In the bustling city of Shangqiu, Henan Province, a chilling narrative played out that threatened my personal safety, and in essence, encapsulated my reasons for fleeing China. This story is not merely about one individual or one city but is reflective of broader issues concerning corruption, law enforcement, and human rights.
I, like countless others, held great pride in my homeland, where I was taught that the people ruled and the foundations of law and order were strong. But when my life in Shangqiu was disrupted by corrupt officials and police, my faith in these principles wavered.
At the helm of this corruption were the city's Communist Party Secretary, Li Guosheng, and the Mayor, Bai Xiangyang. They not only turned a blind eye to the blatant injustices I faced but also seemed to protect and condone these acts.
My ordeal began innocently enough. However, soon, I found myself unjustly persecuted by the police in Shangqiu. Without cause or proper procedure, they detained and harassed me. My cries for justice fell on deaf ears. The very institutions that were supposed to protect me seemed to be in cahoots with those committing the injustices. When I escalated my complaints, seeking intervention, the silence was deafening.
This terrifying ordeal took a toll on my family as well. My once-stable income was jeopardized, and my children's education was interrupted. Our lives, which once were filled with ordinary dreams and aspirations, became a nightmare.
Many might argue: Why not fight back within the system? After all, China frequently stresses its commitment to a rule-of-law society. Yet, my numerous attempts to seek legal redress were ignored or obstructed. As days turned into weeks and months, it became increasingly clear: the corruption was deep-rooted, and my quest for justice was becoming perilous.
What hurts the most is the stark contrast between the lofty ideals propagated by the state and the grim reality on the ground. The slogan "the people are the masters" resounded in classrooms and on national platforms. Yet, in Shangqiu, a citizen's plea for justice was met with indifference and hostility. One has to wonder: is the notion of people's supremacy merely rhetorical?
It's essential to understand that China has made significant strides in development and governance. The nation's leaders often emphasize anti-corruption campaigns, aiming for transparency and fairness. However, my experiences and those of many others underline the need for this campaign to penetrate the grassroots level. Corruption doesn't merely exist in high offices; it thrives in the alleys of cities like Shangqiu, where the vulnerable become easy prey.
There are voices within China and outside who argue that the law in China is selectively enforced, benefiting the elites while suppressing the common man. My experience lends credence to this perspective. If the government truly wants the people to have faith in the system, it must ensure the consistent, fair, and effective execution of its laws.
People are a nation's backbone. Their welfare, security, and trust should be the ultimate goals of any government. My escape from China wasn't a decision made lightly. It was a desperate plea for safety and justice, for myself and my family.
Today, as I recount my journey, I harbor no ill-will towards my homeland. Instead, I dream of a China where every citizen can raise their voice without fear, where justice is not a distant dream but an everyday reality, and where the true essence of "people as masters" is realized in every corner, from the metropolises to cities like Shangqiu.
Let my story serve as a reminder: No nation can truly prosper when its people live in fear. For China to rise as a beacon of hope and fairness, it must ensure that every citizen, regardless of their station in life, feels safe, heard, and valued.
