What my father, Jimmy Lai, continues to teach me from prison
Article excerpt
My father, Jimmy Lai, was born in mainland China to a well-to-do family shortly before the communists came to power. When they did, he and his family became the enemy of the people. His father fled to Hong Kong in search of better opportunities, leaving his family to fend for themselves. Meanwhile, my grandmother was […]
My father, Jimmy Lai, was born in mainland China to a well-to-do family shortly before the communists came to power. When they did, he and his family became the enemy of the people. His father fled to Hong Kong in search of better opportunities, leaving his family to fend for themselves. Meanwhile, my grandmother was forced to kneel on broken glass every morning in public, so that people saw what happened to the families of those who ran. My father found work as a porter in train stations from the age of 8. He grew up without a father, with no one to show him how to lead a family or be a good husband. Despite this, he became, in my eyes, the greatest father I could ask for.
My father’s hard-scrabble upbringing produced a very tough man. He escaped to Hong Kong at the age of 12, earned his way as a laborer with grit and determination, and found success as a business and media entrepreneur because of his ingenuity and integrity. Gentleness is not a trait that is often publicly associated with him. Yet, with me, he was always gentle. When I was small, my brother and cousin cut my hair, causing me to cry, and my father comforted me. Perhaps to the hairdresser’s chagrin, he promised me that the professionals could make it grow back. When I did well in my studies as a girl, he would reward me with my favorite treats, ham, cheese, or books. After my first college exams, which I failed to finish due to poor time management, he comforted me on the phone for an hour while I cried.
My father’s newspaper, Apple Daily, was steadfast in its defense of the freedoms Hong Kongers were promised by the communist government in mainland China. After pro-democracy demonstrations brought nearly a quarter of the city’s population to the streets, the government decided to crack down on dissent. My father was arrested, tried, and convicted for his commitment to the freedoms that once made Hong Kong great. Having already served over five years, he was sentenced to an additional 20 years in prison on Feb. 9, 2026, all for believing in the ideals of freedom and supporting a marketplace of ideas and information. For my father, who turns 79 this year, this is effectively a life sentence.
Claire Lai and Jimmy Lai
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My father has been kept in solitary confinement for all but two days of his five and a half years in jail. His health is rapidly failing. While for us the summer months bring sunshine and flowers, they bring him painful heat rashes in a tiny cell where the temperature reaches 110 degrees, and there is no proper ventilation. Without intervention and mercy, this treatment will continue for the rest of his natural life and will certainly shorten it.
There is so much I could say about Dad. Though he sits in a lonely prison cell, our family visits reduced early on to a mere 24 hours a year or roughly 30 minutes per week, he has a generosity of spirit. His heart is so wide it could cover mountains and oceans. In the most recent letter I got from him, the first thing he mentioned was my birthday, asking if I had a good one and saying how much he wished he could celebrate it with me. When we received some bad news, he wrote to me in worry, describing my face as lighting up like a pink rose due to my tears.
He is wise and practical. In helping someone, he reminded me not to regard it as a burden or annoyance but as a privilege, both to be able to help them and to know the value of doing so. This conviction has only strengthened during his imprisonment. In uniting the suffering he experiences in prison with the passion of our savior in prayer for others, my father sees it not as a burden he can relinquish, but as a privilege and blessing he feels unworthy of. When I resist praying for certain people who have treated my father poorly, he reminds me how lucky we are to know God’s grace, and how much they need it, too.
He is quick to forgive ills but not to forget the gestures of kindness we have been shown. My father prays for the people who wrong him, whether it be guards or people who have danced on his metaphorical grave. When he struggles with this, he prays to God to overcome his shortcomings and encourages me to do the same. Yet he remembers every generous gesture he has received, even those he received when he was a boy.
Claire Lai and Jimmy Lai
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BELTWAY CONFIDENTIAL: JIMMY LAI IS A LIVING MARTYR
During his trials, there was a glass defendant’s box where my father sat for most of his trials. There was a gap in the side of the glass, and for the first few years, I found I could insert my hand in the space and squeeze my father’s hand. Guards would turn a blind eye, perhaps because they could sense our stubborn natures, or perhaps they, too, could relate to the bond between father and child. Even then, I could feel his hands becoming drier, his nails becoming brittle, his grip weakening. I would use one hand to pinch my other before squeezing my father’s hand so he couldn’t feel me trembling. I didn’t want him to sense my sadness over what had happened to my once robust father.
As of Monday, my father has spent 2,000 days in prison. He has missed a great deal in the lives of our family. In many ways, my life came to a standstill at 23 when he was first charged. The empty seat at the head of our table, thoughts of him as we prepare his favorite foods, the things we continue to file away in the “we’ll do it later, with dad” category. There is still so much to learn from Dad. I inherited his intensity, but this Father’s Day, I give thanks for the virtues he continues to teach me, even from his prison cell.
Claire Lai is the daughter of Hong Kong political prisoner Jimmy Lai.