From Sanctuary to Displacement: Supporting the Monks of Mrauk-U in Their Time of Need
Our monastic team leader has written the following post about a group of monastics in need who have had to flee due to conflict. For those who might like to support our plan to help them resettle, please consider a donation with this project earmarked!
In the heart of Mrauk-U, a place steeped in the ancient history of Rakhine State, there once stood a monastic university alive with the chants of young novices. These samaneras, draped in their humble robes, spent their days studying Buddhist texts, meditating, and embodying the principles of compassion and service. For the surrounding community, the monastery was not just a spiritual hub and a place where the religious community together, but also a place of solace and support.
But all of that changed in last July.
The conflict engulfing Myanmar reached their doorstep, leaving the monks with no choice but to flee. Forced to abandon the only home they’d ever known, they joined the tide of thousands displaced by violence. I have spent some time speaking to their abbot, and he informed me that they had to make their way south to Yangon and the Ayeyarwady Region, eventually settling in South Dagon Township, miles away from the familiarity of Mrauk-U.
Now, what was once a vibrant center of learning and spirituality sits silent and empty. Meanwhile, the young novices who called it home face the challenges of displacement—challenges that no one, let alone children dedicating their lives to service, should ever have to endure.
I first heard about this community of displaced monks when they began their journey, and their story has stayed with me. There are certain images I can’t get out of my mind now. Imagine being uprooted from a place you thought you’d never leave. Imagine the disorientation of starting over in a new environment with nothing but the robes on your back. The challenges they face now are immense: finding food, securing basic necessities, continuing their studies, and simply processing the loss of their home.
For us Burmese, monasteries like theirs are more than places of worship—they’re lifelines. In Myanmar, they’re where people turn in times of need. They offer education to children, care for the elderly, and a sense of moral guidance for the community. But when these sanctuaries are displaced, the ripple effect is devastating—not just for the monks, but for everyone they serve.
Here’s where we come in— I hope!
We’re working to support this community in every way we can. First and foremost, they need food—regular, reliable supplies to ensure the novices don’t go hungry. Then there are the basics: robes, toiletries, and other daily necessities. Education is a cornerstone of monastic life, and we want to ensure they have the resources to continue their studies uninterrupted.
But I also think, and I want to share, it’s not just about survival. It’s about creating a sense of stability in their new home. That might mean improving their accommodations—making sure they have a safe and comfortable space to live, meditate, and study. And it’s about their emotional well-being, too. These young novices have endured trauma that no one should ever have to face, and part of our mission is helping them heal. I have only heard a few of the stories and they really do break my heat, to be true.
The displacement of these novices is just one piece of the crisis Myanmar faces today. Over 3.5 million people have been uprooted from their homes, their lives shattered by conflict. And while it’s impossible to solve every problem, helping this one community is something we can do.
To me, these displaced novices and monks from Rakhine state represent resilience, hope, and the kind of quiet strength that can inspire us all. By supporting them, we’re doing more than providing aid. We’re standing in solidarity with a vision of Myanmar that values compassion, dignity, and humanity.
Thank you for taking the time to read my essay.
