Mekong Review, founded by Minh Bui Jones, published its first issue in November 2015. Among other things, Volume 1, Issue 1 featured a review of a biography of Henry Kissinger; a profile of Michael Hayes, who wrote ‘The Gecko’, a biweekly column in The Phnom Penh Post; and a look at the life of the Cambodian writer Soth Polin, who published L’Anarchiste in 1980. It was a thin issue, slightly larger than today’s iteration, still experimenting with layout and presentation.

Since then, Mekong Review has grown beyond the name, expanding our scope outwards from the Mekong region to cover all of Southeast Asia, as well as South Asia, East Asia, and the Asian diaspora. Every quarter, we bring our readers a diverse spread of writing across politics, society, art, and culture—always striving to reflect the dynamism of the region. Recent issues have shed light on the struggles of communities fighting for justice in Bhopal, India, decades after industrial disaster; life and complexity in scam compounds in Myanmar; Queer lives in Thailand, Korea, and Nepal; Indigenous traditions and practices in Taiwan; and the importance of history and memory in places like China and Mongolia. In this tenth anniversary issue, we amplify the voices of Indonesians who participated in demonstrations across the country, reflect on monumental change in Nepal, and speak to Leila de Lima, the Philippines’s former justice secretary and senator, about her decision to return to politics after spending years incarcerated for trumped-up drug charges under the Duterte administration.

Today, in many parts of Asia, there are struggles with authoritarianism, censorship, inequality, polarisation, and environmental destruction. But there are also many instances of brave resistance, inspiring creativity, and vibrant joy. And issue after issue, for the past decade, Mekong Review has published independent writing—across non-fiction, fiction, and poetry—that reflects these realities.

Mekong Review has always been a tiny operation that punches above its weight. For years, Minh travelled around Southeast Asia, personally delivering copies to bookstores. Today, my little flat doubles up as a Mekong Review ‘warehouse’, with stacks of current and back issues waiting to be taken to the post office to fulfil online orders, or get packed into a suitcase in search of new homes during my travels.

We would never have made it without a dedicated and generous community of writers, poets, artists, readers, and supporters. From academics and journalists to NGO workers and emerging authors, our contributors have deep ties to, or knowledge of, the Asian countries or communities they write about, filling the pages of our journal with important perspectives often overshadowed—if not left out completely—in Western-centric Anglophone media. We’ve had volunteers offering their time, energy, and skill to review books, edit articles, read submissions, or even pack and post copies to subscribers all over the world. People have come and gone over the years, but we will always be grateful for their belief in and love for Mekong Review.

And then, of course, there’s you: our readers. Whether you’re a long-time subscriber, someone who buys a copy now and then in a bookstore or online, or a newcomer who’s just discovered us, each quarterly cycle of Mekong Review is only complete when the magazine ends up in your hands. Every issue is put together with you in mind and offered as an invitation: If you don’t already know Asia well, we hope you learn something every time you pick up a copy. If you used to live in Asia but have since moved away, we hope you find comfort and warmth in memories of an old home. If you’re from, or still living in, Asia, we hope you can recognise your country, society, or communities within our pages. When you read Mekong Review—wherever you might be—you’re making a connection that’s all the more precious in a world that feels increasingly divided and troubled.

Our community has carried us this far, and I hope we can go further still. As a small independent publication, we depend on our readers to keep us going. If you can, please get a subscription (and maybe one for a family member or friend, too!) Buy a copy at a bookstore, or order one online. Recommend that your university library get an institutional subscription. Make a donation. And tell everyone you know about us!

Ten years is a remarkable milestone for this labour of love. It hasn’t been an easy journey, and Mekong Review continues to face challenges at a time when media outlets all over the world are downsizing or shuttering in the face of financial stress or political repression. Still, our strong belief in the need to hold space for independent voices in Asia keeps us pressing on.

• Tags: Issue 41, Kirsten Han, Mekong Review