When a classmate said she’d be allowed a brother or sister, I realised what it meant: she might die young. It was a sudden insight into tragedy and trauma.
The one-child policy lasted for three-and-a-half decades, until 2015, during which countless Chinese parents risked everything to get around it. Most failed. The number of female infanticides soared in rural areas because when only one child was allowed, people preferred a son. This was for cultural and practical reasons, such as the need for manual labour, for which males were considered more adept. Daughters were not the only victims of the policy. Women faced government-enforced abortion and sterilisation. In extreme cases, “uncooperative” women were forced to abort, even in the ninth month of pregnancy.
Later that year, my 15-year-old cousin, Brother Lulu, was diagnosed with a brain tumour. Immediately, the doctor sat my aunt and uncle down and told them they could now make another baby.
For my aunt and uncle, in their mid-40s, to direct their efforts into conceiving a second child when their son was gravely ill was nothing short of telling him to his face that they expected him to die.