a story of survival….
from a man who lives in an area of internally displaced people, he told his story of what happened to him, and how he arrived in the area a few months ago…
There were more than 300 households living peacefully in my village. We had been there for generations — farming, raising our children, helping each other. Life was simple, but it was ours. I am not someone who understands politics — I am a farmer. Each year, I planted my crops and worked the land. But one day, everything changed. After the military coup, I heard people talking about resistance. Tension grew, and fighting broke out. Our village was close to the main road, so it became a target. People began to scatter — our 300 households were split into different directions, fleeing for safety. My group headed toward the Thai-Myanmar border. I was one of those who supported the local resistance group — not with weapons, but with food. We cooked rice for them, tried to help them survive. But the Burmese military found out. They saw anyone helping as the enemy. Planes came. Bombs were dropped on our village — four times. The sound of the airstrikes, the chaos, the screaming — I can never forget it. We ran in all directions.
For two weeks, we stayed in another area, trying to find safety. But we could still hear gunfire in the distance. And then the food ran out. With no other choice, we began the long journey to the border — four days and four nights on foot. We carried what little we could, walking across mountains, through rivers and deep valleys. It was cold. It was exhausting. And it was terrifying. Even now, I still flinch at the sound of certain noises. The first time I heard a motorboat near the river at our new camp, I panicked and ran. I thought it was the sound of a military plane. My wife had to remind me that we were safe now. Safe — but still struggling. We have peace from the bombs, but I worry constantly about how we will survive.
We don’t have enough food. I don’t know how we’ll access healthcare. And I worry for my children — will they ever go to school again? But I want to say thank you. When the mission group from Thailand came, it meant everything to us. They brought food, basic supplies — the things we need just to survive. I am truly grateful for the kindness we’ve been shown. A small act of giving from someone far away has made a huge difference in our lives. From the bottom of my heart — thank you for helping us feel human again.
