A Camp In Myanmar, Fear From The Skies, And A School Takes Wing
Sanjoy Hazarika
Our vehicle pulled up at a small group of wood and plaster cottages, near a shuttered corrugated iron shed. Between the two was a small patch of greens which an older man was tending. Across the field were two long wooden shacks with tin roofs, and a muddy space between them.
Families were collecting water and cooking outside one of the shacks, women with children on their hips, babies being fed. Some of the children and adults were coughing continuously.
I took a second look at the makeshift building, which appeared to be built like a large chicken coop or hatchery where chicks would be raised, stall fed and then fattened for the market. The other building was broader and larger.
Rodinga, who goes by one name, from the Chin Peoples Defence Front (PDF), the armed wing of Myanmar’s opposition government in exile, the National Unity Government, confirmed my guess. The first of the buildings had been an abandoned poultry farm. The other, he said, was an abandoned pig-rearing centre. It was in these buildings that persons displaced by the fighting in the Chin Hills had been allotted space by the new administration.
The displaced were reluctant to give their names, but they shared similar stories--of villages being burned by Myanmar’s military troops, of fleeing for days and nights over jungle paths with little to eat or drink, of children and women falling sick and no medicines at hand.
I spoke to an older woman in worn and faded traditional garments of sarong and blouse, her face crinkled in anxiety. Did she feel safe in Rihkhawdar? “I am afraid of the planes, they drop bombs and fire from the air, I am afraid they will also come here.”
Efforts to assure her that the town was too close to the Indian border, even though these transit camps were away from the main urban settlement, did not work. “They can come again,” she said, eyes clouding at the thought.
This is the second part of a three-part series on civil conflict in Myanmar, and its repercussions for the bordering Indian state of Mizoram. (You can read the first part, on the rebel forces gaining ground, and the dispute over a border fence in India, here)
When the skies rain death
The air power of the military regime in Myanmar and their long-range artillery strikes fear into both rebel fighters and ordinary people across this sprawling nation of Southeast Asia that shares borders with India, China and Thailand.
Sustained by China and Russia, these jets have repeatedly hit civilian targets, rebel strongholds and towns and villages which have fallen to the combined forces of the diverse ethnic armies that have long battled the Myanmar regime.
Volker Turk, the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights, has condemned the bombings saying , "there are reasonable grounds to believe that the military and its affiliated militias are responsible for an extremely broad range of human rights violations and abuses since 1 February 2021, some of which may constitute crimes against humanity and war crimes”.
Under the democratic leader Aung Sang Suu Kyi, a fragile peace in the country was cobbled together and fighting had ceased for some years. But Suu Kyi, who is 79, now languishes under house arrest following the military coup in 2021 that ousted her from power, and the ethnic armies resumed fighting their old enemies in the Myanmar military. Although there are tough US sanctions against specific junta leaders and companies allegedly involved in war crimes and embezzlement, support from China and Russia has kept the regime in place.
The scale of the destruction and displacement is significant: some 1.4 million persons have been rendered homeless and live scattered across the country or have taken refuge in Thailand and India. Mizoram is home to some 35,000 refugess who are placed across the state, with a majority settled in Champhai district.
Terror has struck from the skies, underlining the fear of the elderly refugee in Rihkhawdar. In one incident last year, a jet reportedly bombed a village gathering after which a helicopter gunship sprayed fire on civilians, killing over 100 persons including many children.
The Guardian reported in February 2024 that the UN had documented more than 554 civilians killed in Myanmar since October 2024 and more than 1,600 in 2023, an increase of about 300 from the previous year. A further 19,973 people remained in detention on political grounds.
In addition, there are reports of torture and executions by both the military and the pro-regime militia.
Manipur baulks, Mizoram embraces refugees
Across the Indo-Myanmar border, away from this atmosphere of ceaseless violence, live thousands of Chin refugees, most of them in Mizoram. About 4,000 are said to be in Manipur also, mostly in the hill areas dominated by the Kuki community, as per officials from Mizoram and from the Union government.
The state’s chief minister N. Biren Singh reportedly said that neither the Union government nor Manipur is bound to follow a ststement by the International Commission of Jurists (ICJ), which has asked India to immediately halt any plans for “forced returns of Myanmar refugees from Manipur, after the state deported.
No fewer than 35,000 Chin refugees are in Mizoram, where they face kinder treatment from the state government. In recent days, another 5,000 are said to have fled recent flare ups in Myanmar. The refugees are being supported by the financially-strapped state government which places them on land and existing unused housing, while national and international relief agencies provide food, fuel and other basic needs including clothes, sanitary napkins and soap.
Many of these shelters have piped water supply, toilets and bathing areas as well as a common kitchen. Some accommodation such as long, tin-roofed mud and bamboo houses divided into units for families and single persons are built by the refugees from materials supplied by the local administration or by welfare and service organisations like the Young Mizo Association, a powerful voluntary body that includes professionals, students and even government employees and works on a range of issues including challenges facing local communities.
The Union Minister for Home Affairs Amit Shah had reportedly told Mizoram chief minister Lalduhoma, in January 2024, that refugees in Mizoram will not be deported unless the situation in Myanmar improves. In June 2024, Shah had said that the Union government will provide humanitarian assistance to refugees in Mizoram.
We have reached out to Randhir Jaiswal, spokesperson for the Ministry of External Affairs, for their comment on repatriation of Chin refugees in Mizoram and Manipur. He said, over phone on July 20, 2024, that India "has a policy" with regard to Myanmar's "democracy and security, peace and stability". Earlier, on April 24, Jaiswal had described the security situation in Myanmar as "precarious and deteriorating".
Jaiswal also asked us to reach out to the Ministry of Home Affairs.
We have reached out to Ajay Bhalla, the home secretary, and Vikrim Misri, the foreign secretary, for comment, and will update the story when they respond.
Safely, to school
The town of Champhai overlooks some of the most spectacular countryside in Mizoram. Rugged hills surround a green verdant valley with wetlands, fish ponds and rice fields, the water glittering in the sun. On the edge of this district headquarters with sharp steep hills where houses cling to slopes--a new addition in the main market is Kentucky Fried Chicken and Pizza Hut--is a set of concrete buildings where Myanmarese refugees live. These include some soldiers and policemen who have crossed over, either on their own or with their families.
They live in single rooms, sometimes equipped with electric stoves set on the floor or on a shelf to make tea for themselves and visitors or to heat milk for children. Clothes are piled high along with blankets and mosquito nets. Unlike their counterparts across the border, they feel comfortable and safe here.
The women say they talk often and easily though they have come from different places and backgrounds. Khantimmawi, a petite 27-year-old woman, who is now expecting her second child, is married to a former policeman. Both joined the Civil Disobedience Movement against the regime after the coup, but left when the military attacks began, sleeping one night on the ground before reaching Zokhawthar. As she speaks, her daughter clings to her.
Unlike the other children, Khantimmawi’s daughter is not in school. “She won’t go anywhere if I’m not around,” her mother says, smiling.
Today is the first day that the children from here are attending school, in their new uniforms of blue skirts and crisp white shirts. The girls are excited, chattering as they leave the refuge of their temporary home and walk across a dusty courtyard past a volleyball court to their primary school. It could have been any group of school children in any part of the world--but these were refugee children who’ve been given a chance in a friendly environment.
The school is named Hope of Tomorrow, and is about 200 metres away, in a single storey, cream-coloured building with common classrooms and a handful of teachers. The school is sponsored by a US foundation. There are 70 children here, including 24 girls.
The main activity this morning appears to be class photographs. There’s much smiling and giggling, and adjusting of clothes before the photographer and teachers shout, “Ready, one, two, three” and take photos. In some cases, the children, unused to the attention, fidget and look away. The photos have to be retaken. But no one is complaining.
It’s a different world to Rihkhawdar.