Today, I want to send a message to my sister, Gulshan Abbas. It is a message she may not be able to hear or see today, but I believe with all my heart that one day she will. Gulshan hede, Eight years ago today, the CCP took you from us. Eight years. You were not an activist. You were not a political or a religious figure. You were a retired medical doctor living a quiet life. Your only “crime” was being my sister. You were taken because I exercised my freedom of speech here in America, as an Uyghur American, and dared to speak out against the Chinese government's persecution of our people. They took away your freedom to punish me. They imprisoned you to silence me. But I want you to know: I have not been silent. And I never will be. For eight years, I have carried your name with me everywhere. I have taken your name into government buildings, parliaments, universities, conferences, churches, mosques, synagogues, newsrooms, and halls of power around the world. Since you were taken, I have traveled to nearly 50 countries. I have told your story to lawmakers, diplomats, journalists, faith leaders, students, human rights defenders, and thousands upon thousands of people. I have told your story to anyone willing to listen—and sometimes to those who were not. I made sure the world knows your name. Gulshan hede, I know you are suffering behind the walls of a CCP prison. For eight years, no one been allowed to see you. We have received no proof of your well-being. I don't know what they have told you about me. And I don't know whether anyone has told you just how many people around the world now know the name Gulshan Abbas. But I hope somehow you can feel that you are not forgotten. What the CCP did to you was meant to break me. Instead, your unjust imprisonment has given me an even greater determination to fight. Your case has opened doors for me to expose not only the crimes against our people, but also the true nature of Beijing's threats to the free world, and transnational repression: a regime taking an innocent woman hostage because her sister exercised her constitutional rights thousands of miles away in the United States. They wanted your disappearance to frighten me into silence. Instead, your name became my strength. Every platform I have gained because I am your sister, I have used to expose the regime that imprisoned you. Every time I speak your name before a parliament, a government, or an international audience, I remind the CCP that taking you did not erase you. It amplified your story. Eight years of your life have been stolen from you. Eight years of birthdays, family gatherings, laughter, conversations, and ordinary moments we can never get back. I cannot return those years to you, and that pain will remain with me for the rest of my life. But I can make you this promise: As long as I have a voice, I will use it for you. As long as I can stand, I will fight for your freedom. As long as I can speak, I will tell the world what they did to you and what they are doing to our people. The CCP may have locked you behind prison walls. They may have tried to erase you from the world. But they have failed. You are my sister. You are a mother. You are a doctor. You are loved. You are remembered. And your name is now known around the world. Gulshan hede, hold on. One day, I believe I will be able to say these words to you face-to-face. Until that day, I will keep fighting. I will never give up....