Cheng Lei leaves no secret untold in a blisteringly honest prison memoir and documentary
Warm, sweary, courageous Australian journalist Cheng Lei reflects on the philosophies that saved her sanity in prison, starting with BTFI: ‘Beyond the F … It’.
Three desperate years of prison terror. Psychological torture and physical deprivation. Secret orgasms. Lots of laughs.
Australian journalist Cheng Lei has distilled her ordeal of wrongful imprisonment in China into a few powerful philosophies for living – perhaps the most economical of which is ‘BTFI: Beyond The F... It’.
This acronym actually predates imprisonment, to Ms Cheng’s training as a TV anchor, when a wise mentor told her the only way to get past camera-fright was to give up on any idea of perfection.
“We’ve all had those ‘f... it’ moments”, Ms Cheng said in an interview for The Australian’s podcast The Front, live now.
“I’ve stuffed up so many times, on air, off air,” she said.
“If you can ride out that worst wave, you’ll find serenity.”
It’s that frankness which makes Lei’s book for HarperCollins, Cheng Lei: A Memoir of Freedom, and an accompanying documentary airing this week on Sky News, utterly refreshing.
She writes about menstruation, constipation, the longing to be allowed to wear a bra – and indulging in the occasional sexual rebellion beneath her prison-issue sheet; masturbation as a screw-you to the guards who watched her every moment and insisted arms be kept in plain view at all times.
Did it occur to her to gloss over all those bodily functions; to present herself as more Mandela, less Bridget Jones?
“I think it’s a big part of being human, to feel pain and discomfort. And if we can’t acknowledge that, then what’s the point of writing? I like to think that I’ve written an honest book, and it’s just a big reversal from what China is about, which is hugely glossing over things, making up facts, pinning crimes on people. And then saying with a straight face, this did not happen,” Ms Cheng said.
Ms Cheng takes the reader from her existence as a glamorous Beijing journalist, dashing from tennis to school pickup to the studio in shift dresses and heels, to Prisoner 21003: just another guest of the Ministry of State Security, first in brutal solitary confinement and then a bleak detention centre.
Ms Cheng was wrongly accused of espionage and it took years to find out the pretext: in 2020 she’d received a copy of the Chinese Premier’s annual Work Report and had texted a brief summary to a Chinese journalist friend.
Unbenknownst to Ms Cheng, the report was subject to an embargo that expired seven minutes after she sent the message.
The real reason, probably, was that Beijing wanted a hostage: an Australian citizen upon whom it could visit vengeance for the then-Morrison government’s public scepticism about the origins of Covid-19.
Ms Cheng writes that in some of the most desperate days – when she was confined with a horrifically difficult fellow prisoner she nicknamed PsychoBitch, “I believed when I got out there would be no bliss so complete as the memory of suffering.”
And has that turned out to be true?
“Absolutely. The counterpoint really helps us appreciate the smallest thing. Every time I put a cap on the toothpaste, every time I hang out washing, every time I put on a piece of jewellery and look at myself in the mirror, things like spotting a flower or feeling the breeze on my face, without what I suffered, I would just take all this for granted.”
And, conversely, which first-world problems has she left behind?
“I’m pretty chilled. When people honk at me, I smile at them. And when I see something annoying, I’ll remind myself that I’m so privileged to be able to have that annoyance. I eat a lot and don’t really fret about what I look like. I’ve only bought very little clothes because I went for three years and two months wearing, you know, two or three T-shirts and all of my worldly belongings can fit into one little container. So now material things mean a lot less to me.”
During her incarceration, Ms Cheng cast herself as chief morale officer, teaching English, learning Spanish, devising workouts, leading her cellmates in singalongs to everything from 80s power-ballads to Amazing Grace.
“I think I came through relatively okay because I felt each day I was going to teach them some more songs; we were going to sing a bit more without getting into too much trouble, and share books and I was going to make up new games, and we’re gonna have some laughs and each day there’s gonna be a little bit of fun.
“Otherwise it’s just too dark and too utterly dull.
“One parting phrase I love to leave people with is: ‘Have fun’. Life’s too short to take yourself too seriously – or life too seriously.”
Listen to Cheng Lei’s interview on The Front wherever you get podcasts.
Cheng Lei is an anchor on Sky News Australia. Her book for HarperCollins, A Memoir of Freedom, is released on Wednesday 4 June, and her documentary, Cheng Lei: My Story, premieres on Tuesday 3 June on Sky News and skynews.com.au
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