Exclusive: Uyghur exiles in Türkiye struggle with poverty, uncertain future

By Ayse Oz

ISTANBUL, Turkiye (MNTV)  — In Turkish metropolis Istanbul’s Zeytinburnu district, a small shop selling traditional Uyghur clothing and accessories has become more than a marketplace.

For Uyghur women living in exile, it is also a gathering place. Here they can speak their language, share memories of home and find comfort among people carrying similar burdens.

More than a dozen Uyghur women recently gathered there to tell their stories. Many spoke of husbands imprisoned or missing in China, children struggling to build lives in Türkiye and families separated for years.

Their accounts offer a glimpse into the difficulties facing members of Türkiye’s large Uyghur diaspora.

Of 15 Uyghurs interviewed for this report, 13 were women. Most were middle-aged. Many were effectively raising families alone.

Some said their husbands had been imprisoned in China. Others said their spouses disappeared after returning to Chinese-occupied East Turkistan, officially known as Xinjiang, for routine matters, including property transactions.

For many, there has been no reunion and little reliable information about those left behind.

One Uyghur mother interviewed at her home has been bedridden with a chronic illness.

She arrived in Türkiye with her three children in 2010 after her husband was executed in China. She said the family’s possessions were seized and they were subsequently regarded with suspicion by Chinese authorities.

Years after arriving in Türkiye, she still lacks a valid residence permit.

Her children have faced their own difficulties.

Her youngest child, once a promising student, left high school after repeated bullying. She now studies English at a private course with the help of a scholarship.

Her two older sons, both in their 20s, survive through temporary work.

One briefly found an opportunity after being selected for an advertisement. But because he lacked proper identification documents, his mother said a middleman took much of his earnings.

“I watch him try to build a future,” she said. “But without papers, every door closes.”

Legal status remains one of the biggest concerns for some Uyghurs in Türkiye.

Many have obtained long-term residence permits, but others remain caught in bureaucratic uncertainty. Uyghurs interviewed for this report said decisions affecting their residency can leave families fearful about their futures.

Health care presents another challenge.

An elderly Uyghur woman displayed the insulin she depends on while explaining that she relies financially on her son and grandson.

Without adequate insurance or resources, some families said medical treatment can become prohibitively difficult.

Husbands disappear, families wait

For Meryem, the separation has lasted a decade.

She came to Türkiye in 2014 with members of her family. In 2016, her husband returned to East Turkistan to complete official procedures.

She said Chinese authorities arrested him after discovering that he had sent money to her in Türkiye.

She has not seen him since.

Meryem now teaches the Quran to support herself and helps raise children alongside her sisters, whose husbands are also imprisoned.

Another woman, Rabia, lives with a different kind of separation.

Her husband and children remain in East Turkistan.

Communication is extremely difficult. Uyghurs interviewed for this report said they fear that telephone calls and online messages could expose relatives in China to scrutiny.

For Rabia, maintaining silence may protect her family. But it also means living without knowing when she will hear their voices again.

Most women interviewed said they rely partly on charities, nongovernmental organizations or individual benefactors.

Others clean homes or take temporary jobs.

Only a few have stable employment, including sewing, teaching the Quran or working in businesses established by the Uyghur community.

Their present circumstances contrast sharply with memories of their lives before exile.

Women recalled prosperous households, close families and the landscape of their homeland: sweet melons, Turpan grapes, adobe homes and courtyards covered with grapevines.

For many, those memories have become inseparable from the pain of knowing they cannot safely return.

Men interviewed for the report described similar experiences of displacement.

Ali works in the kitchen of a Uyghur restaurant in Zeytinburnu.

He fled China after his father warned him that conditions were deteriorating.

“My father was a forward-thinking man,” Ali said. “He knew the situation would get worse. He begged me to leave before the raids came.”

Ali eventually married in Türkiye and now has a child.

At the restaurant, he keeps a worn Chinese-English textbook nearby and studies whenever work allows.

“I thought we would return home in a few years,” he said. “My father would grieve to see me here, working in a kitchen.”

His friend Mohammed also fled China.

Mohammed said he had previously been imprisoned and tortured. After authorities issued another arrest warrant, he escaped with the help of smugglers.

He said some people he knew were detained during the crackdown, including young women accused over their religious practices and clothing.

The effects of his imprisonment remain visible.

Mohammed said torture left him with permanent physical injuries. One of his hands remains noticeably thinner than the other.

Now married with four children, he works in import-export trade. He said he earns roughly the minimum wage and spends nearly half of his income on rent.

From Egypt to Türkiye

For some Uyghurs, Türkiye was not their first refuge.

Ayse was living with her daughter in Egypt in 2017 when Egyptian authorities began arresting Uyghurs.

She recalled rushing to the airport with little more than passports as Uyghurs sought flights out of the country.

Uyghur organizations helped secure visas and tickets to Türkiye for some of those stranded.

Ayse and her daughter escaped.

Her husband had remained in Chinese-occupied East Turkistan. She said he was later detained and died in custody.

Today, she lives in an Anatolian city and survives through small allowances, occasional municipal assistance and support from other Uyghur families.

Chronic health problems have added to her difficulties.

Another Uyghur, Saruhan, said he sought Turkish citizenship by investing in property in Istanbul.

Instead, he said he was detained after being accused of extremism. He said authorities later suspected him of being a Chinese spy, allegations he denied.

During the ordeal, he said strangers approached his wife and demanded money.

He was eventually released, but he says complications surrounding his case continue to obstruct his citizenship application.

He now operates a business in another Turkish city, employing Uyghurs and other migrant workers.

One of his employees, Hasan, previously lived in Saudi Arabia.

Hasan said he left with his family as pressure grew on Uyghurs living abroad. Now elderly, he continues working to support his family.

His immediate ambition is modest: obtaining a work permit that would allow him to earn a living with greater security.

Despite economic hardship and years of uncertainty, Istanbul’s Uyghurs have built a tightly connected community.

Associations and private donors support families in need. Community businesses provide some employment. Families place particular emphasis on educating children and preserving the Uyghur language, Islamic faith and cultural traditions.

Young Uyghurs have also become increasingly active in cultural and political advocacy, seeking to keep international attention focused on their community and on Chinese policies in East Turkistan.

China has faced sustained international criticism over its treatment of Uyghurs and other predominantly Muslim ethnic groups in East Turkistan. Beijing rejects allegations of widespread human rights abuses and says its policies are aimed at combating extremism and promoting development.

For the Uyghurs interviewed in Türkiye, however, the debate is deeply personal.

They speak about husbands they cannot reach, parents they may never see again and children growing up thousands of miles from a homeland they know largely through family stories.

Türkiye offered them refuge and a community where their language, religion and culture could survive.

But for many, exile remains precarious.

They cannot return to the people they left behind. Their relatives cannot easily join them. Employment, health care and legal status remain uncertain for some families.

Still, the community continues to build schools, associations, businesses and networks of mutual assistance.

For many of Istanbul’s Uyghurs, survival has become more than finding work or securing legal papers.

It is also about ensuring that a generation born or raised in exile remembers who they are.

 

Names and some demographic details of interviewees have been changed or withheld to protect their safety.