Five years ago Muhammad*, his wife and two children sheltered at their home, terrified as they heard of violence tearing through nearby villages. The Myanmar military had launched so-called “clearance operations” in northern Rakhine state, forcing huge numbers of Rohingya people to flee into neighbouring Bangladesh.
“If we remember those times, to be honest, it’s difficult to eat or sleep,” he says. “25 August was one of the black days for Rohingya.”
Rohingya who fled across the border gave harrowing testimonies of mass rape, murder and of torched homes. The events shocked the world, and have led to allegations of genocide in the UN’s top court, a case the UK has announced on Thursday that it will support.
About 700,000 Rohingya fled to Bangladesh, where they remain in squalid and overcrowded camps. But an estimated 600,000 Rohingya remain in Myanmar, facing conditions that Human Rights Watch has described as amounting to crimes against humanity of apartheid, persecution, and deprivation of liberty.
‘I cannot express the suffering’
Muhammad’s village was spared. Along with neighbours, his family decided it was safest to stay put for two months, sharing vegetables and supplies for as long as they could. “It was like a prison, we couldn’t go out of the village, we couldn’t get any food,” he says.
When they were finally able to leave their village, their region had changed irrevocably.
Today, communities continued to face severe restrictions on their movement, including being confined to camps and prevented from accessing livelihoods or basic services such as education and healthcare. An estimated 2,000 Rohingya, hundreds of them children, have been arrested for “unauthorised travel” by the military since the coup, according to Human Rights Watch.
“We’re in name human beings, but we’re living like animals,” says Muhammad. “Even animals are happy … I cannot express the suffering.”
Even getting medical treatment at a hospital is almost impossible because of the travel permissions required and the exorbitant costs and discrimination they face.
Zaw Win, human rights specialist at Fortify Rights, said Rohingya were also under pressure to obtain national verification cards (NVC) that would identify them as “foreign Bengalis” rather than rightful Myanmar citizens. The military isn’t actively campaigning for people to obtain the cards, he added, but in practice they are necessary for essential tasks such as opening a bank account or taking work at an international NGO. “The people unavoidably have to accept the NVC, even though they don’t want to,” he said.
Within Rakhine state, Rohingya are caught between two rival groups, the military and the Arakan Army, a pro-Rakhine ethnic armed group. The latter fought against the military throughout 2019 and 2020 and now controls vast swathes of Rakhine state.
Many Rohingya, including Muhammad, say they are forced to pay taxes to both.
The Arakan Army, which was previously hostile towards Rohingya, has shifted its approach, including by referring to Rohingya as “Muslims” rather than “Bengalis”, which is considered offensive by Rohingya as it suggests they are foreigners. The group has also reportedly relaxed the military’s harsh restrictions on movement in areas it now controls.
More broadly across Myanmar, the relentless violence imposed upon communities by the military has led to signs of a shift in public opinion, with some expressing regret for not showing greater solidarity towards Rohingya in 2017. Yet, scepticism remains among Rohingya communities.
“They’re telling from mouths, not from their heart,” says Kader*, who lives near Maungdaw, north of Rakhine state, and who was one of the few people to remain in his village after 2017.
Soaring food prices
While the Arakan Army and military agreed an informal ceasefire in November 2020, fighting has broken out over recent months, say residents. Even for those who live far away from the conflict, this means road closures and higher food prices.
Romida*, who is among 120,000 people who live in camps for Rohingya in Rakhine state, which were set up after communal violence in 2012, said the cost of basic goods has soared. She was forced to take her two teenage boys out of school three years ago so that they could work. “I had no alternative,” she says. She worries about her sons travelling out of the camp for work; others have been attacked and robbed by Rakhine youths, she added.
Romida said the cost of a 50kg bag of rice had already doubled to 50,000 kyats. Others told the Guardian price rises elsewhere were even more extreme and that they don’t know how communities will cope if increases continue.
That day, Romida said she had eaten only during the morning. “I can manage some vegetables or snacks, some spinach at least. But there are so many families who cannot even manage spinach or chilli or anything. The young children have been lying down at home since the morning, many families could not feed their children,” she adds. The shelters in which families stay are flimsy and cramped; in rainy season, their tin roof leaks, letting in heavy rain, while in the hotter months the heat is unbearable.
The military has blocked aid that has been sent to Rohingya camps and villages after the coup, according to Human Rights Watch, adding to the desperation.
The difference between her life now and when her family lived freely is “like the sky and the earth”, she says.
* Names changed to protect their identity
Additional reporting by Nurul Hoque
