Life goes on (even in the dark)

Nhkum Lu

Finally, I can feel freedom — that was my first thought after my flight from Yangon landed at Suvarnabhumi Airport, Bangkok. I can finally use social media without having to use VPN. The internet connection is very fast in Thailand. Back in Myanmar I had to turn VPN on and off whenever I needed to use a different app on my phone. As long as I am in Thailand I will be free from that hustle.

I’ve come to Thailand for a work meeting. It would be a huge risk for employees of my humanitarian organization to come together for an all staff meeting in Myanmar. To host a meeting at Myanmar hotel, we have to report the hotel our organisation’s name, meeting agenda, and participant list. The hotel is required to forward our details to the military authorities. Myanmar hotels wouldn’t host any conference or meeting if we didn’t comply with their regulations. When possible we avoided hotels or public spaces for our trainings and workshops.

While in Thailand I want to open a Thai bank account so I can receive my salary in baht and save up. Since the military coup in February 2021, the value of Myanmar kyat has tumbled. On top of that, the junta has enacted strict regulations on money exchange from US dollar to kyat. The government official exchange rate and black-market rate for US dollar against kyat is very different. When the government set the exchange rate at 1,850 kyat per dollar, the black-market rate was 3,000 kyat per dollar. And if you didn’t exchange your dollar into kyat within 48 hours of receiving it, you were likely to be charged with the draconian foreign currency act. As a result, commodity prices doubled and the kyat faced hyperinflation. 10,000 kyat in your hand in February 2022 would be worth around 7,000 kyat in about five months.

In Thailand, some of my colleagues and I went in for a retreat, where there was no Wi-Fi or electricity. We were there two whole days. I needed as much self-care as my colleagues did. Not being able to know updates on Myanmar was very relaxing for me. In these two days, we only talked about positive things; books, jokes, relationships, having the right people around us, having a work-life balance and so on. We chose not to discuss any topic regarding politics, as it was time for emotional and mental self-care. I laughed so hard at my friends’ jokes. I looked up to the sky at night and marveled at the countless stars.

After two days in the middle of nowhere, we are on the way back to Bangkok to open Thai bank accounts. One of my friends checks her social media account and informs us of shocking headlines from Myanmar — three Rakhine children drown and their bodies missing, Myanmar military airstrike on a Kachin Independence Army (KIA) concert in Hpakant kill more than fifty, etc. For us, it was a rude awakening into the realities of Myanmar.

The fifty people who died on the scene at Hpakant were mostly Kachin musicians. When I heard the news, my reaction was ‘Okay, it happened.'highway we all weep, without letting out a wail.

I need to find out whether my friend was actually at the KIA concert. I try to reach him on the Facebook messenger. There’s no reply. I call him. No answer. I call his mother. She picks up the phone. But the internet connection is very weak on her side and I cannot hear her clearly. I call again and ask ‘Is he home? Can you hear me, is he home right now?’ And she said, ‘Yes, he is in his room’. After that, the connection was cut off again. After the call, I shed tears of relief from knowing that my friend is safe, but remain saddened for the people who were murdered by the junta. And the journey continues. When we arrive at the Thai bank, we see so many Myanmar people, queuing up for a Thai bank account.

Back home in Kachin, everyone is talking about the air strike at Hpakant. Especially how people died at the concert. Everyday, someone updates the number of people who died after the air strike. The military has blocked the road to Hpakant — no medical staff, volunteers or supplies can get through. Soldiers also threaten volunteers that they would shoot anyone who helps the wounded secretly. For about a week medics try to get access to the wounded, to no avail. Many people suffer and die from the lack of medical attention. For about two weeks, the list of the dead kept growing. I see the photos of dead bodies with missing limbs and heads. I also see the photos of the pile of the corpses who died from the lack of medical attention. They haunt me at night.

During that week, my friend’s mother was in a motorcycle accident and had a serious injury. Doctors from Myitkyina advised that the patient seek treatment immediately in Mandalay, Myanmar’s second largest city about 358 miles south of Myitkyina. The family calls an ambulance. My friend’s brother plans to go in the ambulance, but the senior ambulance driver warns him that any young Kachin man is at risk of being forcibly conscripted as a porter for the Myanmar military. At the end, a lady friend and her aunt accompany the patient to Mandalay. They arrive at a private hospital in Mandalay the following afternoon. Bad news awaits them. Every hospital, private and public, in Mandalay has been ordered by the junta not to receive any patient from Kachin. No hospital would take them in. After calling many influential people and knocking every door of many a hospital, they find a place around midnight. When we hear that we were outraged at the extent to which the junta is willing to inflict atrocities and sufferings on innocent civilians. Luckily, my friend’s mum is safe and now recovering.

Deluged with horrific news on a daily basis, I feel like I am better off without social media, especially graphic content on Facebook. Right now, there is not a single place in Myanmar that has not been affected by the conflict. News of villages burned down by the military and skirmish between People’s Defence Forces (PDF) are most common. Airstrikes against schools or similar buildings are also common. In September, at least eleven children were killed when a gunship attacked a primary school in a village in Depayin, in Sagaing region. Children are often seen hiding in the bushes while the Myanmar air forces fighter jets soared above their schools. When we heard the news that the military was planning an air strike against university campuses in the Kachin-controlled areas, people in those areas panicked and fled to nearby forests. A certain armed group brutally murdered someone and the act was live-streamed. These kinds of stories would always pop up at least once a week. I skip them when I see them. However my mum and aunts at home watch graphic videos, only to be left angry and overwhelmed. Then, they are unable sleep at night. I have to reason with my relatives and my neighbours not to watch graphic content for the sake of their mental health.     

Just this week, a friend from another city visits me in Myitkyina. In her opinion, Myitkyina seems back to normal. She is lucky to see the city when the situations are a bit calm. The previous three weeks were a nightmare with military check-points everywhere in the city. There were also unlawful seizures of unlicensed cars. A licensed car costs as much as a modest house in Myanmar. Most people own unlicensed cars and it has been that way for a long time. Then suddenly, they seize all the unregistered cars. Some car owners report that they are ordered to sign a document that states ‘I donate this car to the government on my own volition.’ Haven’t we gotten used to the junta’s arbitrary actions?

I also feel that our tolerance in dealing with the armed conflict has significantly improved over the past two years. Recently, my friends and I were eating out in a seemingly peaceful evening until we heard a very loud explosion around 5:30pm. As soon as we heard the deafening noise, we talked to each other ‘Hey, did you also hear the bomb? I wonder where it came from.’ We discussed whether we should head back home immediately or remain at the restaurant. We all decided to stay at the restaurant for a little longer. If we went home immediately we might get questioned at the check-point by the military. The questioning by security personnel can be very long, unpleasant and dangerous. Our reaction to the bomb explosion only lasted for around five minutes. After that, we kept on with our conversation.

Even in our daily conversations with neighbours, we can joke about our own encounters with soldiers at check-points, about the chances of getting shot, or about being held as a porter carrying ammunition for the army like a mule. I recall that, when we heard the first ever gunshot in a protest in February 2021, everyone got so spooked they ran for their life. These days if we heard a gunshot, we would look at the direction of where the sound comes from and kept on walking as if nothing happened. If I got questioned by a member of security forces, my spontaneous response would be a lie. I didn’t think for a second, I just lied. I am surprised with my own behaviour, how I can lie on the spot every time I get questioned. That’s how I’ve survived this far.

Our daily life in Myanmar can be sunny in the morning, and stormy in the afternoon. Since I cannot change what is happening in Myanmar, I try to change my attitude towards the circumstances. When faced with a precarious situation, I try my best to remain calm. Nonetheless, I still lose my calm from time to time. In the run-up to the new year of 2023, the anticipatory anxiety is the most common condition amongst us, Kachin people. What will happen to us next?

The military has arrested former Kachin religious leader Reverend Samson with unclear reason and detained him unlawfully. Reverend Samson’s arrest is a huge blow to the Kachin community. We are worried about his safety and his life in the hands of the lawless regime. For now all is quiet on the Kachin front and the junta’s front. This may be the breeze before the storm. Some people predict that the conflict in Kachin might become intense after the new year. This is our daily conversation now. But worrying about the future doesn’t do any good for the people in the present. I will cross the bridge when I get there. For now I want to enjoy the moment.

Being possessed with thoughts about every ongoing in Myanmar is emotionally draining. Taking care of our mental health and finding personal peace are also very challenging. At least I try my best to find hope in what I do. I limit my time on social media and only use messenger for communication with friends and families. I watch funny videos from YouTube when I feel like I need a break. I write a journal when I have had a bad day to release all my negative emotions. I play with my two dogs and teach them a new trick or two. I watch films online, but I only watch films with happy endings.

On the eve of Sweet December, we had a small barbecue party with youths from our church. We had a bonfire because it was very cold now in Myitkyina. It’s been a long time; we didn’t have a chance to hang out like that until the break of dawn. We stayed at our friend’s house the whole night because of martial law. At midnight, we greet ‘Sweet December’ to each other by shaking hands. After that, we sing Christmas carols that we used to sing. The joyous occasion brings back good old memories, and a feeling of hope. Come what may, I will live in the moment and make the best of my life in the dark.