In an interview with a Turmush correspondent, he shared that he was born in 1991 in the village of Üch-Terek, located in the Toktogul district of the Jalal-Abad region. He currently resides in Kara-Kul.
“When I was just 2 months old, my maternal aunt brought me to this city, promising to raise me as her sixth child since my parents separated. I have always felt lonely... Rumor has it that my mother sold my biological brother to the Dungans,” he stated.
Gulzhigit spent his childhood in Kara-Kul. His aunt, who raised him, was a well-known entrepreneur in the city. She had five children and took him into her family, so ultimately, there were three sons and three daughters growing up in the house.
Gulzhigit has a third-degree disability. According to relatives, when he was born, doctors accidentally dropped him, which led to a pelvic fracture. He is unaware of any surgery that may have been performed. “Right now, I don’t feel pain, the external manifestations are almost unnoticeable, but I do limp a little,” he added.
He recalls that his parents divorced when they were still young.
“Mom, as they say, drank a lot. When they separated, my grandmother and aunt came and took me away,” he remembers.
Gulzhigit only met his father in the 7th grade when he accidentally ran into him in Toktogul. “It’s worth remembering the saying: ‘Not the father who gave birth, but the one who raised.’ I talked to him, but I chose with my heart those who raised me. They became dearer to me, even despite the arguments and sometimes physical punishment,” he says.
Gulzhigit has endured many humiliations and sufferings: “I don’t want to show it, but deep down, there is always anxiety and resentment.
He saw his biological mother at the age of 17 when she came from Bishkek in 2008. At that time, he was living with his grandmother. His mother had health issues—she had a stroke, and taxi drivers left her with him. “I thought she was my aunt. When I was told that she was my mother, I didn’t believe it. My adoptive mother died when I was 10, and I ended up in an orphanage. We all went our separate ways. I returned from the orphanage at 12. It was very strict there. I was ready to do anything for a piece of bread. On hungry days, we ate raw carrots and even birds. There were times when we cut and ate a puppy. After my mother’s death, I realized the true value of parents. Since childhood, I have lacked parental warmth,” he shares.
From the age of 13, he began working in heavy jobs, washing dishes, sweeping along the roads, and working as a loader,” added Gulzhigit.
For a long time, Gulzhigit did not marry, thinking that he had no one and that marriage was a responsibility: “If relatives don’t support, how will my wife’s parents look at me? But I still got married, although we divorced due to jealousy. I have a son. Then I married again, but I also divorced my second wife because of jealousy. I have a daughter. I grew up without maternal and paternal love, saw many hardships, and dreamed of not showing such a fate to my children. But life turned out to be different from what I thought. I tried to live honestly and purely, but I don’t always succeed. I broke down badly. I tried to commit suicide twice, but both times the rope broke. I believe that if a person suffers a lot, something good awaits them ahead. This was my trial.
In moments when I wanted to talk and express myself, there was no one around to listen. My relatives have their own lives,” he noted.
“What torments me the most is this: when my grandmother took me to Kara-Kul, my older brother stayed with my father. When he was about to start first grade, my mother came and took him away to Sokuluk, where, as they say, she sold him to the Dungans.
When she came in 2008, I asked, ‘Did you really sell my brother?’ She admitted: yes, she sold him due to alcohol. I asked: ‘Why?’ She replied: ‘I succumbed to temptation.’
Nevertheless, we continued to care for her, trying to help her get rid of her addiction. That same year, my cousin died. When we went to read the Quran, my mother went to Bishkek with my uncle, ended up back at the Osh market, and returned to alcohol. She never changed. I grew up and could have taken care of her. But no matter what, she is my mother. I also dream of a family and a good life. I want to find my mother and brother.
I am looking for my older brother. In the age of digital technology, if my mother or brother sees me, I would be happy to welcome them. My brother's name is Talai, he was born in 1987 or 1988. My mother’s name is Gulzat.
