“I Still Tremble When I Think About It – I Was Locked Up In a Men's Cell at Masanjia Forced Labor Camp” (Part 1)
"I Still Tremble When I Think About It - I Was Locked Up In a Men's Cell at Masanjia Forced Labor Camp” (Part 2)
Realizing that I was on the verge of death, the Shenxin Forced Labor Camp was eager to shirk its responsibilities and released me on the night of August 10, 2001.
My younger brother immediately began to play Master’s audio teachings for me, and my mother called a medical clinic to come give me an IV. I remained disoriented for a few days, and when I became clearheaded, I still had trouble keeping food down. I threw up whatever I ate and relied on liquids to get by.
In less than a week after my release, agents from the Xiaoming Police Station and the local street committee came to check on me. They warned my mother that they needed to keep track of my every move since I was a steadfast Falun Gong believer now known throughout all of Liaoning Province.
My mother stood up to them and said, “Look at how badly my daughter was persecuted, and we haven’t gotten a chance to sue the labor camps involved. How can you still come here to harass us?” I also explained to them why I held firm to my faith and they were rendered speechless.
After they left, my mother complained to me, “Well, we are in for big trouble now. The persecution of Falun Gong is no different from the Cultural Revolution. Once a big label is slapped on you, there’s no way to take it off. You’re now considered 'a diehard Falun Gong' and I’m sure we’re going to see more coming. When the government opened fire on protesting students during the June 4th Democracy Movement, I was in the underpass near Tiananmen Square and heard the gunshots clearly. The government is merciless when it comes to persecuting its own citizens. I’m really worried about what’s in store for us.”
Two days later, Zhang Fucai, Liu Futang, and other officers with the Diaobingshan Domestic Security Office showed up again. My son was so scared that he didn’t know where to hide. All our neighbors were talking to each other and wondering what was going on.
I was still bedridden, so they told my mother, “Yin Liping is now a primary target in Liaoning Province since she is a diehard Falun Gong.”
My mother replied, “My daughter was arrested even before she learned all five of the Falun Gong exercises. How come she became a diehard Falun Gong after 20 months of detention? She had to be carried home and is still in critical condition. Don’t you see she still can’t get out of bed?”
They left after recognizing that I was indeed in very bad shape.
In the days that followed, agents from the Xiaoming Police Station and the local street committee kept coming to my home to harass me. They wanted to see if I was well enough to be in custody again.
In order to avoid future arrest and lessen the pressure on my family, I decided to leave home and live elsewhere.
My mother was torn, “You can go move from place to place, but how about your son? Even the best babysitter can’t match his own mother.” Looking at my sound-asleep son, I was heartbroken.
While I was detained at the labor camp, Dafa disciple Wang Jie from Shenyang City gave me her contact information. I decided to seek shelter with her.
In early September I arrived in Shenyang and was happy to find Wang Jie at her home, alive, and in good spirits. She was, however, emaciated, weighing less than 90 pounds. She asked me to guess who else was also with her and I immediately said, "Zou Guirong," another practitioner who was once detained with me. It turned out that Zou Guirong was harassed every day after her release, so she also sought shelter with Wang Jie.
Wang Jie found a spare house owned by one of her relatives for all three of us to live in temporarily. For the first few days, I had to remain in bed and I listened to them read Dafa books since I was too weak to get up. When I felt a bit better, I managed to sit up and join them for Fa-study.
Only when I stayed in Shanyang did I realize that the world outside the labor camps and prisons was not much different from inside the detention facilities themselves. Rumors slandering Falun Gong were flying everywhere, and non-practitioners became frightened at the mention of Falun Gong. I was sad to see so many Dafa disciples who had their families destroyed by the persecution.
Zou Guirong and I agreed that we should document what had happened to us and bring the perpetrators to justice. Later, another practitioner from Shenyang, Zhao Suhuan, joined us, so all three of us wrote our letters if complaint and decided to go to Beijing to seek justice.
After Zou Guirong, Zhao Suhuan, and I arrived in Beijing in late September, we were shadowed and arrested in our hotel by Beijing police. They searched everything we had with us and interrogated us separately.
When they found my complaint letter with my name and address on it, they went online to learn more about me. I figured since I was already in custody, there was no need to hide the purpose of our Beijing trip. So I told them how the Liaoning police had persecuted us and asked them to point us to the right agency to file our complaints.
They suggested we follow legal procedures and file our complaints in Liaoning Province. I said I doubted it was possible for the victims to file complaints with their abusers. They had no response.
The three of us were taken back to our local areas by the respective Liaison Offices in Beijing.
I was taken to Diaobingshan Detention Center.
When the local police interrogated me, I made it clear that I had gone to Beijing to file lawsuits against them and asked why they were afraid of my doing that. They replied, “You’re daydreaming. You think you can sue us here in China? Go sue us with the United Nations.” I pointed out they were breaking the law and I assured them I’d one day for sure sue them in the international tribunal.
I don’t know how many days passed before Fang Jianye and another agent from the Diaobingshan Domestic Security Office and two officers from the Xiaoming Police Station took me out of the detention center and drove me to the Shenxin Forced Labor Camp.
When we got there, Fang Jianye and his colleague went inside to negotiate my detention at the labor camp. The talk went on for a long time, but the labor camp refused to take me. Fang Jianye then bribed the labor camp with the 8,300 yuan he had taken from me and the camp finally agreed to admit me.
They dragged me to a solitary room where Fang Jianye gave me the original receipt of the 8,300 yuan “fine.”
In less than 20 minutes, Fang Jianye’s colleague ran to where I was and gave me a copy of the original receipt. When he demanded I hand over the original receipt, I refused to. He began to search me, putting his hands all over my body. I struggled hard, but he eventually got the original receipt out of my bra after ripping loose the straps. I cried, “You are not a police officer at all. You are a crook!” Police officer Wang from Xiaoming Police Station gave me a sympathetic look, but he could do nothing.
When I picked up the copied receipt, I noticed they had changed the year from 2001 to 2000.
During my incarceration this time, I was left in solitary confinement without any food or drink for one week before I was transferred to the labor camp hospital.
After three days in the hospital, I became so weak that the camp decided to release me. The local police station picked me up and informed my mother to come get me.
My mother came but refused to take me home. She said, “Whoever picked my daughter up from the labor camp has to keep her. She’s been tortured so terribly, and you want me, an elderly lady, to take care of her? I have no money to get her injuries treated, and I am still caring for her son. Let me make it clear: I’ll sue you if my daughter dies in your custody.”
After my mother left, the police immediately drove me home. They dumped me at the doorstep before my mother got back.
I was determined to bear witness to the crimes done to Dafa practitioners. This time the local police station didn’t dare to bother me that often, since they now knew firsthand how hard it was to get me admitted to the labor camp.
The 2002 Chinese New Year was the very first holiday I was able to spend with my family since 1999. A male practitioner who had been homeless to avoid being arrested came to join us for the celebration. My mother was very happy, and she cooked eight delicious dishes and also made dumplings with two kinds of fillings.
However, both he and I felt extremely sad when we lifted our chopsticks to pick up the dumplings. We lowered our heads to hide our tears. My mother complained, “Why are you crying at such a joyful moment? You haven’t been able to spend Chinese New Year with us for quite a few years. Now that you are home, yet you cry.”
I could no longer hold back my tears and let out a big cry. I said, “Mom, do you know how many Falun Gong practitioners’ mothers are waiting right now for their daughters to return home to celebrate the holiday? And how many daughters are waiting for their mothers to return? So many practitioners are being tortured at each and every moment. Even those that were able to escape detention have to move from place to place to avoid further arrests. I know one such practitioner who is renting in our city and whose family has to sleep on the cement floor. His children don’t even dare to go out to play for fear of arrests.”
My mother knew all too well about the severity of the persecution, so she felt sad too. She and I worked again to make more dumplings, and the male practitioner and I then delivered them to the out-of-town practitioners we knew were seeking shelter in our city.
Shortly after the 2002 Chinese New Year, Zou Guirong made her way to my home. We were all very happy to see her. She told me she wanted to re-write her letter of complaint, since the first one had been confiscated. To ensure her safety, my mother locked her in an empty room in our backyard and delivered hot meals to her twice a day.
In that cold empty room, Zou Guirong wrote her last article, titled “I Never Wavered in My Faith during My Detention in Masanjia, Zhangshi, Shenxin, and Dabei Labor Camps.” I could never have imagined her brief stay with us was the last time we would ever see her.
I couldn’t believe it when I learned on April 23, 2002 that Zou Guirong had died, but multiple sources confirmed the tragedy. I was devastated beyond words. My mother was also extremely saddened and kept saying, “What a wonderful young woman! She was so polite and considerate. She always helped with the household chores when she was with us. She has her own child, right? How sad!”
Shenyang practitioner Wang Jie came to visit me upon learning of Zou Guirong’s death. Ms. Zou’s face showed up in my mind. She was a petite woman, yet she had rock-solid determination and unbreakable resolve. She used her real name to expose the persecution facts, and her articles frightened the evildoers. Her articles exposing the crimes committed in Masanjia Forced Labor Camp and other detention facilities lessened the pressure on other practitioners.
Wang Jie and I made up our minds to report on as many labor camp crimes as possible to the world, and I was determined to one day bring lawsuits against the evildoers at the international tribunal.
We began to collect evidence of the Liaoning police persecuting local Dafa practitioners by interviewing the victims and taping their personal accounts.
I was compiling the facts on October 8, 2002, when agents from the Tieling Police Department opened the door with a master key. Dafa practitioners Wang Hongshu and Zhang Bo were in another room and had no idea of the intruders. The police turned the entire place upside down before taking the three of us to Yinbei Police Station.
Zhang Fucai kicked Wang Hongshu so hard he broke his back. In order to shirk responsibility, the police released him. Zhang Fucai and Liu Futang took me and Wang Hongshu back to the Diaobingshan Detention Center for force-feeding.
At that time Wang Lijun was the chief of the Tieling City Police Department. In order to gain political advancement, he actively followed the Party to persecute Falun Gong. He ordered his thugs to torture practitioners with all means possible to extract “confessions” and fabricate evidence. He threatened to sentence practitioners to life.
We were often beaten with rubber clubs, and the sounds of whipping and painful screams could be heard in the middle of every night.
In addition, the guards often subjected practitioners to a torture dubbed the “Big Hang-up,” where the victim’s hands were cuffed up high to a steel frame with his or her feet off the ground.
Ms. Wang Jie and two other practitioners were once tortured like this for two whole days while being beaten with rubber clubs. One's entire body weight fell on the arms, causing excruciating pain. Ms. Wang’s thumbs were numb for half a year and her big toenails fell off. She couldn’t lift her right arm for eight years.
The Yinzhou District Court of Tieling City tried and sentenced Wang Jie, Cai Shaojie and Zhang Bo each to seven years, and Li Weiji to eight years on March 5, 2003. Wang Jie was sent to Liaoning Province Women’s Prison and passed away just one year after she finished her seven-year term.
I was sentenced to three years of forced labor and sent to Masanjia Forced Labor Camp again.
The labor camp let me go after just seven months because I became paralyzed from the waist down due to the constant torture. When I was carried home around June 2003, my mother warned me, “If you can survive this time, just stay home. It’s no use fighting with the government.”
As a matter of fact, I wasn’t able to go anywhere since I couldn’t move my legs.
My son’s friends all liked to play at my home since our family treated them very nicely. Gradually I learned more of their backgrounds. One boy’s father was serving a 20-year-term at prison and his mother was nowhere to be found. This boy’s cousin’s father was Fang Jianye of the Diaobingshan Domestic Security Office. Another boy’s mother abandoned him and his father. A third boy’s mother played Mahjong all day long.
I became their mother and good friend. I often told them stories about cultivation and asked them to remember, "Falun Dafa is good." As I regained mobility, I also bathed them and made sure they were clean and healthy.
In July, a male practitioner brought a boy named Huang Chunlin to live with us temporarily. The boy’s mother was Jin Hongyu, a Dafa practitioner who was being detained.
Huang Chunlin told me about his detention a while back. Yu Dehai, Sun Lizhong, and Yang Dongsheng of Tieling Police Department kept him awake for a whole night and tried to get him to tell on Dafa practitioners he knew. They also asked him where his mother was. He was happy that practitioner Gao Jie (now paralyzed) didn’t get arrested. He told me he refused to say anything during the interrogation and cried out when they intimidated him. They drove him around during the day to identify practitioners’ residences.
I had just put my son and Huang Chunlin to sleep when the door was broken open around 9 p.m. On July 19, 2003. Zhang Fucai and Liu Futang from Diaobingshan Domestic Security Office led a group of officers and rushed in.
One of the agents twisted my left arm behind my back and grabbed my hair to knock my head against the ground. When my mother ran out to call for help, a tall young officer gave her a punch and her right clavicle immediately became swollen and stuck out.
Some neighbors came to check on us, and the mother who liked to play Mahjong begged the officer that was beating me to stop. He let go of me but turned around to beat her, accusing her of attacking police. She retorted, “Who can tell you are police officers? I’m protecting myself against bandits.”
Just then, the male practitioner who had brought us Huang Chunlin came to deliver necessities for him. Seeing I had been knocked down and my mother injured, the police took him away instead.
My mother called in my younger brother, who suspected all the fuss was due to the approaching July 20 (July 20 marks the official start of the persecution). My mother asked him to find a car to get us to a safer place.
My mother, my son, Huang Chunlin, and I fled our home that night. The two kids were still terrified during the trip.
After taking the male practitioner to the detention center, the police returned to my home to get me. Since I had already left, they went around harassing my relatives. In order to not implicate my relatives, my mother and I agreed that I would go back home while she took care of my son and Huang Chunlin at the shelter.
As soon as I returned to Tieling, I began to collect the phone numbers of all the police officers involved in the arrest of the male practitioner and me. I then called each number and told the evildoers’ families about the brutal persecution of practitioners. I warned them to persuade their loved ones to stop doing evil; otherwise they would face grave consequences.
Zhang Fucai and Liu Futang took me to Masanjia Labor Camp for the third time on October 14, 2004. Just three months into my three-year-term, the camp released me when I was on the verge of death.
When I was carried home, I no longer had detectable blood pressure. In order to save me, my mother, a non-practitioner, read me four lectures from Zhuan Falun in a row. Miraculously, I survived.
Fellow practitioner Qin Qingfang from Fushun City gave me her son’s number while we were detained together. She asked me to tell her son about the persecution she had suffered if I got a chance to get out first. She wanted to make sure her son did not fall victim to the lies fabricated by Masanjia. When I returned home, however, I noticed that the phone number had one digit missing and I was heartbroken that I couldn’t keep my promise to call her son.
The last two times I was detained at Masanjia, I noticed big changes in their facility and staffing. The brand new building was equipped with modern décor, conference rooms, monitoring devices, and there were enough male and female guards to watch over detained practitioners.
However, this modern building was, in fact, a hell on earth. Every day, practitioners were bombarded and pressured to give up their belief in Falun Gong. Whoever refused was put through numerous tortures. Headphones were forced on our ears so that we had to listen to their slanderous words. The loudspeaker in the confinement room was so loud that I suffered aftereffects. Even after my release, I panicked every time I heard loud noises.
Wang Ling from Tieling City had all her teeth fall out due to torture. Cui Zhenhuan and Li Chunlan were reduced to total mental patients.
What I have written is just a portion of the facts detailing how I was persecuted. Since the brutal torture erased some of my memories, I can no longer recall some of the details.
I admit there may be slight inaccuracies when it comes to the exact timing and details of each incident, but the main facts are my first-hand accounts.
To those who refuse to believe me, I have to say, “I can understand you, since no one would believe a government would ever do such terrible things to a woman. You would have to experience it to believe it. Even Zhang Hua, whose article exposed her sufferings in Masanjia, probably wouldn’t have believed the brutality of the Masanjia guards before she was tortured there.”
Some people are curious about my current condition, and I want to say I am alive today thanks to the miracles of Dafa. I share my ordeals with everyone so that more people can come to see the brutality and ruthlessness of the Chinese Communist regime.