Waiting to Be Arrested at Night: A Uyghur Poet's Memoir of China's Genocide by Tahir Hamut Izgil

 

"Everyone knew what happened next. The police would take their prisoner to a jail cell or a camp lockup, where there was nothing besides a high ceiling, four thick walls, a camera in every corner, an iron door, and a chilly cement floor. If you felt hot you could remove clothes, but if you were cold there was nothing you could do. Even in high summer this was practical problem one had to consider. If someone knocked on my door in the middle of the night, I planned to put on these warm clothes and autumn shoes before answering."