‘This is our documentary of the crisis we face’: the Rohingya smartphone photographers

A photograph taken by Ro Yassin Abdumonaf in the refugee camps of Cox's Bazar, Bangladesh. Photograph: Ro Yassin Abdumonaf

The camera of a budget smartphone has become a way for many of the Rohingya stuck in Bangladesh’s refugee camps to tell their own stories, capturing photos of their lives in the camps, which became the world’s largest when 700,000 people fled the Myanmar military five years ago, joining 300,000 who had already sought refuge across the border.

These photographers, who are all under 30, are building a record of the culture and traditions they fear could be lost so far from home, and have sharpened their skills during floods and fires and other all too frequent moments of crisis.

Their photographs have featured in international media and photography competitions. Sahat Zia Hero, one of an increasing numbers of Rohingya photographers, last year published a book of his own work called Rohingyatography and has followed it up by helping set up Rohingyatographer, a magazine that publishes the photos of others he meets in the camps.

Zaudha, 40, stares out over the smouldering remains of her home after the largest of the camp fires, in March 2021, when 50,000 lost their homes. The smoke and heat was still too intense for her to go down to the exact spot she lived in. A photograph by Sahat Zia Hero. Photograph: Sahat Zia Hero

• Zaudha, 40, stares out over the smouldering remains of her home after the largest of the camp fires, in March 2021, when 50,000 lost their homes. The smoke and heat was still too intense for her to go down to the exact spot she lived in.

Sahat Zia Hero

Until 2012, I studied at Sittwe University in Rakhine state. I had to apply for papers and permits from the government to show at checkpoints where they only searched Muslims. Even at the university, I was discriminated against by students and even teachers. They hated us Rohingya.

When the riots happened, the violence meant no more education for Rohingya. As I returned to my village, I was detained for three days and beaten by police. I didn’t leave after that. I supported my father by fishing, but I also bought a smartphone and computer and this was when I started my photography. They were illegal for us to own, but I used them in the jungle, learning about them from YouTube videos I streamed using Bangladeshi internet service on the border.

Rohingya refugees try to extinguish a fire that broke out in Kutupalong in July 2021 using pieces of wood and bamboo. A photograph by Sahat Zia Hero. Photograph: Sahat Zia Hero

A wide view of massive flooding in the camps in July 2021, only a few days after a fire broke out. A photograph by Sahat Zia Hero. Photograph: Sahat Zia Hero

Rohingya refugees cross a river inside the camp over a damaged bridge. A photograph by Sahat Zia Hero. Photograph: Sahat Zia Hero

• Clockwise from top left: refugees try to extinguish a fire in Kutupalong using pieces of wood and bamboo, July 2021; flooding in the camps only a few days after the same fire; Rohingya cross a river inside the camp

We are refugees because of a genocide by the military, and now a million Rohingya people live in refugee camps. Our objective is to highlight our crisis, to show the international community that genocide and persecution is still going on even without publicity.

Living in the camps is difficult, especially without education and freedom of movement. The camps are crowded. Nowhere is safe for the Rohingya right now.

The Covid-19 lockdown meant international journalists stopped coming to the camps, but this encouraged Rohingya photographers to tell their own stories. Taking and sharing photos feels like a duty to my people, a way to use my passion for their betterment. It’s the best language – it speaks more than words and shows the reality. I want the world to see the Rohingya people as human beings, just like everyone else, with our hopes and dreams, sadness, happiness and grief.

Find Zia on Instagram @ziahero

As she fled herself, Ishrat Fori Imran used her phone to capture their escape, carrying whatever they could, through the jungles from Myanmar to Bangladesh in 2017. Photograph: Ishrat Fori Imran

• As she fled alongside hundreds of thousands of others in 2017, Ishrat Fori Imran used her phone to capture their escape, carrying whatever they could through the jungle

Ishrat Fori Imran

I’d never touched a smartphone until I passed my school exams in 2017. My brother gave me a smartphone to call my sister in Malaysia, but I thought why not start capturing some memories and moments and the beauty of my surroundings. I could keep them inside my phone as history for future generations. Instead, only a few months later we had to leave our home because of the military’s attacks and I took more photos as we escaped through the jungle.

Ishrat Fori Imran’s younger cousin does his ablutions outside his shelter in preparation for his daily prayers Photograph: Ishrat Fori Imran

A young Rohingya girl holds her brother as she looks out onto the camps that have become her home. This photo won the Oxfam’s 2021 Rohingya Arts Competition. Photograph: Ishrat Fori Imran

Monsoon rains stop Rohingya children from going to school and most instead spend their time playing outside. Ishrat Fori Imran found 7-year-old Kazawli drenched and sheltering from the heavy rain outside her tent. Photograph: Ishrat Fori Imran

A Rohingya boy relishes the monsoon rain, dancing as he showers himself in the water cascading off a shelter. Photograph: Ishrat Fori Imran

• Clockwise from top left: Imran’s cousin does his ablutions in preparation for daily prayers; a girl holds her brother as she looks out onto the camp that is now her home; a boy showering in rainwater cascading off a shelter; 7-year-old Kazawli shelters from monsoon rains outside Imran’s tent

Now I take photographs because it gives me joy – it can swing my mood from sadness to happiness. If I ever feel depressed or anxious, I pick up my camera, because in that moment of taking the photo, I am focused totally on that subject and not on my depression. I can’t really express the delight I feel when sharing those photos with others, especially when they appreciate them.

I take photos of whatever takes my interest – it doesn’t matter if it’s animals, human, nature, foods or something else; I just take the photo. Whatever my eye sees, so does my camera.

Find Ishrat on Instagram: @chit_ishrat

Rohingya return from aid collection points carrying heavy sacks of supplies to their shelters Photograph: Ro Yassin Abdumonaf

• Rohingya return from aid collection points carrying heavy sacks of supplies

Ro Yassin Abdumonaf

Rohingya lifestyle, our cultural traditions from Myanmar, and our creativity – I wanted to capture that, so that’s why I started taking photos and videos from inside the refugee camps. It’s my passion to tell the world about our lifestyle, so wherever I go in the camps, I use my phone to take pictures.

I take photos of Rohingya children, shelters, artworks, flowers, cultural traditions and also of the crises we face in the camps, like landslides, flooding and fires. Though a few other Rohingya don’t like their photos being taken for their privacy, most are really interested in photography and what we’re doing by sharing it with the world.

Eight members of this family of 12 were infected by dengue fever and are recovering in their shelter. Photograph: Ro Yassin Abdumonaf

Rohingya workers help to maintain the infrastructure and hygiene in the camp by carrying out vital tasks like clearing rubbish Photograph: Ro Yassin Abdumonaf

Some Rohingya children idle beside a concrete drainage system near their shelters designed to help channel away water during heavy rains. Photograph: Ro Yassin Abdumonaf

The lone banyan tree that towers over and provides shade to the shelters around it can be seen for miles. Most trees were cut down to make space for the camps when 700,000 Rohingya rapidly arrived in 2017. Photograph: Ro Yassin Abdumonaf

• Clockwise from top left: a family recovering from dengue fever; Rohingya workers clearing litter to help maintain infrastructure and hygiene in the camp; a lone banyan tree can be seen for miles. Most trees were cut down to make space for the camps in 2017; a concrete drainage system designed to help channel away water during heavy rains

I’m a genocide survivor. I live with my family and we have suffered without freedom, surviving an uncertain future for almost five years in refugee camps after already facing decades of discrimination and violence in Myanmar.

People aren’t always able to express their feelings, and photography takes courage, but this is our documentary of the crisis we face in these camps.

Find Yassin on Instagram @ro_yassin_abdumonab

A group of Rohingya children play in the rain as it pours down outside their shelters in the refugee camps of Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh. Photograph: Anamul Hassan

• A group of Rohingya children play in the rain as it pours down outside their shelters

Ro Anamul Hasan

Photography helps us let people know how we suffer. I take photos of people who are still suffering as they live a life of refuge here. I take photos because I think they can help others understand the subjects of those photos and what they desire.

A group of Rohingya students wear the uniforms of Myanmar schools as they call for justice on the 5th anniversary of the 2017 massacres that caused 700,000 people to flee to Bangladesh.
Photograph by Ro Anamul Hasan. Photograph: Ro Anamul Hasan

• Rohingya students wear the uniforms of Myanmar schools as they call for justice on the fifth anniversary of the 2017 massacres

It makes me happy to take photos, and when I want to raise an issue faced by my community, I always choose taking photos over writing because it has a stronger impact on the viewers.

Find Ro Anamul on Instagram @roanamul_hasan

A Rohingya man carried his ailing mother to a clinic in the camps. Photograph: Mayyu Khan

• A Rohingya man carries his mother to a camp clinic

Mayyu Khan

I don’t remember exactly why I got into photography but I loved it from a very young age, though I only started in 2017, with a small mobile phone. I’ve even started making short films as well.

A group of Rohingya boys play in a waterway beside their shelters after rains Photograph: Mayyu Khan

• A group of Rohingya boys play in a waterway beside their shelters after rains

I love taking photos and do it as often as I can, especially of nature and on the street, but I have to be careful because of the rules inside the camp – I don’t always feel secure taking photographs here. Most people encourage me, though the reaction is mixed and some wonder whether it has any use for me in building a career.

These pictures capture memories and testimony, and record our lives for decades and eras to come. A special image can help to ease chaos and reveal the unknown. It helps me mentally and also economically, and I can use it to truly capture our society. I think these photos will be part of our history.

Find Mayyu on Instagram @mayyu_khan

A group of fishermen returning home after searching for a catch near the camps in Cox’s Bazar. Photograph: Mayyu Khan

• A group of fishermen returning home after searching for a catch near the camps in Cox’s Bazar

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