1 Oct - Mourning Day

I used to be one of those peaceful, rational, and non-violent (PRN) protesters. I only went out to protest when a ‘letter of no objection’ was issued by the police. However, the police have used this power in their favour to prevent people from taking to the streets in peace.

Therefore, I have decided to come out and ‘mourn’ on the ‘mourning day’ of 1 Oct, which is supposed to be the CCP’s 70th year of establishment.

At this point, I am already quite familiar with how the ‘flower blossoming’** protests work, and I know what to expect. There will be no ‘Empty R’***. There will be a bunch of riot police on standby even before the protest starts - these are all ‘appetizers’ of the protests. Most importantly, there will always be tear gas, which is obviously the ‘main course.’

On 1 October, my husband, my daughter’s godmother, and I decided to go to Wong Tai Sin Square to protest for the sake of our conveniences. We went there early. The decision of the time and location was really based on my experience in the past Anti-ELAB protests. I saw that there was an interracial couple picnicking in the square. They insisted that they were only here for a picnic, saying, “Is there any law against picnicking? I don’t think so.” They were obviously those typical PRN protesters like us. On the other hand, during the protest, some frontliners were also present. They were in all-black outfits and gear, with their faces completely covered up. However, most of the protesters at the Square were PRNs.

The clash in Wong Tai Sin between the protesters and the police happened much earlier than I had expected. I heard that there were already some roadblocks built on the other side of the Square. Tear gas had already been deployed. To be honest with you, I was already very familiar with tear gas at this point. Although we didn’t have gear, I had prepared myself with the necessary things in case I was exposed to tear gas.

Since my daughter’s godmother is a ‘silver-haired’ protester (i.e. protesters usually of older age), we went into Wong Tai Sin’s mall to minimise our exposure to tear gas. While we were in the mall, we left some money, food, and face masks on a table, intending to support some younger frontliners who have been financially cut back by their parents. While we were deciding on our next step, I saw some young girls looking at the pile of supplies. They hesitated for a very long time before one of them finally took a single loaf of bread.

Then, I overheard a boy, probably six years old, ask his father, “Are there any police? Are we safe here?”

That question struck me hard. I can still vividly remember that scene. I thought, “How should we teach kids about what is happening in Hong Kong? How do we tell them that the police, supposedly trained to protect, have become a political tool to wipe us out, their fellow citizens?”

I have no clue how to answer those questions.