A Rohingya refugee in Jamptoli makeshift camp, where in 2018 more than 50,000 people are sheltering. Bangladesh, 2018. © Anna Surinyach
Khin Maung s a 26-year-old ethnic Rohingya arrived to Cox’s Bazar in 2017 after leaving his hometown just across the border with Myanmar. His dream is to become a lawyer and to fight for the Rohingya cause in the international courts.
There are few blood banks in the camps, and a lack of co-ordination between authorities and NGOs sometimes results in lives being lost. Members of the Rohingya Youth Association, which I set up to support my community, try to donate blood whenever it is needed. But that is far from enough. Just recently, we received an alert of a critical patient just 20 minutes before he passed away. We could not save him.
We understand, of course, that COVID-19 poses a serious health concern and, therefore, requires some movement restrictions. But there need to be exceptions, just as there are for citizens outside the camps.
Again, we sometimes feel as if we are not human beings living in dignity. Some families in the camps previously had very small but essential incomes from small businesses. They would perhaps earn between $20-30 per month, but all that is gone due to COVID-19-related restrictions. The restrictions have made people totally dependent on the food provided by humanitarian organisations but which is hardly enough to live on.
My dream is to one day become a lawyer and defend our cause in the international courts. The government of Myanmar used the law to cut off our rights, so we need to be able to fight back with the help of the law. But our young people are not familiar with the words of the UN declaration of human rights – an international document adopted by the UN General Assembly that enshrines the rights and freedoms of all human beings – which says that we are all equal in front of the law. We are, however, not even given basic training in the camps to empower our young people and learn the basics about human rights. I know about some universities around the world that would give us the chance to join their courses, but the authorities have stopped this from happening.
If we end up not being able to continue our education, we are going to lose an entire generation. If we have to stay here for 10 years, what will happen to our children?
Despite these challenges, I hope not to lose my hope.
Khin Maung is a 26-year-old ethnic Rohingya, who has been living as a refugee since 2017, when his village in Myanmar came under attack from the army. This Op-Ed was published on 29th August 2021 in The National newspaper.
