Lawyer Joy Luk at a protest in Causeway Bay, on September 29. Photo: Nora Tam
Opinion
Rachel Cheung
Rachel Cheung
Hong Kong’s blind protester on life on the front line and why she will keep demonstrating
Joy Luk, a 41-year-old lawyer from Yuen Long, first experienced tear gas 14 years ago and has been active in the current protests. She explains why making her presence felt is so important to her
Early arrival: I was born and raised in Hong Kong. The due date was in April 1978, but I was born prematurely on January 2, so I suffered some birth defects, which affected my sight. I lost vision in both eyes and cannot see any light. My mother worked as a cleaner and my father as a cleaner and construction labourer. I am the youngest of four. I have two brothers and one sister.
I grew up at Ebenezer School & Home for the Visually Impaired, in Pok Fu Lam, where I was admitted when I was five. They taught me life skills, such as how to take the bus and eat. The academic curriculum was similar to regular schools. I returned home on the weekends. We lived among mostly indigenous inhabitants in a village in Yuen Long and moved into public housing there in the late 80s.
Legal drama: I wanted to be a lawyer after I watched (legal drama) The Truth (1988), starring Andy Lau Tak-wah, and thought what they did was very cool. I also wanted to debate. I did not think it was possible until I took the A-Level and decided to give it a go. I studied law at both City University and Hong Kong University in the early 2000s.
The biggest problem for me was not being able to read the textbooks and casebooks, because they were available only in print. I had to spend a lot of time scanning them into the computer, page by page. After I graduated, I worked as a case officer at the Equal Opportunities Commission for two years, until I found a law firm that would hire me and I became a trainee solicitor in 2010, handling cases related to personal injuries. I quit in 2016 as my health deteriorated.
Anti-WTO protests during World Trade Organisation talks in Hong Kong, in December 2005. Photo: SCMP
The justice league: As a disabled person, I am aware of how we are discriminated against, which fuels my passion for human rights and justice. After my first public exam, in 1997, I submitted an application to join the Democratic Party and was accepted. I also did a masters of law in human rights at HKU, where the rest of the small cohort of students were from Russia, Nepal, Africa and Korea. I was the only student from Hong Kong.
The smell of tear gas: The first time I smelled tear gas was in 2005, when Korean farmers came to Hong Kong to protest against the World Trade Organisation because they were concerned that free trade would lower the price of their produce. I showed up to support their cause. They were very united, banging drums as they walked, and eventually roaring and charging at the police. I heard a bang and my nose became very irritated. I had no idea what it was at the time.
The next wave of demonstrations was in 2009, when I joined other protesters to rally against the high-speed rail link by surrounding the former Legislative Council, in Central. We rushed up to the government buildings, occupying the roads and were in a stand-off with police. But soon after midnight the protesters decided there was nothing further they could do and dispersed. It was not like now.
Occupying the streets: I was on Tim Mei Avenue (in Admiralty) when the first shot of tear gas landed close to me at 5.58pm on September 28, 2014. That was my second experience with tear gas. A medical student from Chinese University pulled me into a first-aid station and later took me to find shelter at Tamar Park. Of the 79 days of the Occupy movement, I spent 30 nights on the streets.
The exodus: For the anti-extradition bill movement, I joined every protest you can name. We had to leave the airport on foot on September 1 as there were no buses or Airport Express. As we were on our way out, someone from the back shouted, “Dog!”, so we ran (“dog” is protester slang for police). I was carrying heavy protest gear in my bag, but we ran all the way to Tung Chung and continued. We walked from 3pm to 10pm for almost 20km until a driver let 50 of us onto a tourist bus and dropped us off at Tsuen Wan.
Black and white: On July 21, we received warnings of gangsters confronting protesters in Yuen Long early in the day. So I took the bus home instead of the MTR and narrowly avoided being clobbered by triad members. Worried about my safety, I asked my mother to wait for me at the bus station. While she was waiting, she saw people in black being beaten. Having grown up in Yuen Long, I knew police avoided messing with the villagers and vice versa. But I was disappointed that two police officers left the scene, even though they were equipped with weapons. Now I don’t feel safe even in my own neighbourhood.
I hear you: During chaos it is hard for me to know what is happening. I rely on others to guide me. A lot of people pull me aside, or suggest I leave. I cannot throw a brick, but it doesn’t mean I cannot stand on the front line. I serve a purpose on the front line. I have a great sense of hearing, so I can hear what others are shouting from the back or in the front and I help communicate it through my speaker. I also listen to live streams and make announcements when warning flags are raised.
Impaired vision: On July 1, I was outside the Legislative Council. I was so worried that those who stormed Legco may be charged with rioting and there was nothing I could do to help. I thought maybe I could use a more extreme method to make myself heard. I considered committing suicide. But, in the end, some social workers talked me out of it.
I am pessimistic. Of our five demands, only one has been met. Many have been injured. At least three people have had their vision permanently damaged, including an Indonesian journalist, a female first-aid volunteer and a Liberal Studies teacher. An 18-year-old Form Five pupil was shot in the chest, which will cause permanent damage to his lungs and heart. More than 3,000 (protesters) have been arrested. Withdrawal of the bill does not solve the problem. (The government’s) solution to the protests caused by a draconian law is to impose another one – the mask ban. The crisis remains.
I am prepared for any charges. I am not afraid of getting injured or losing my life. I don’t mind being jailed. If 10 years of prison can be exchanged for democratic development in Hong Kong, I think it’s worth it.
