"This is really happening...."
Real Stories Not Tales is a dedicated team in and out of Myanmar that aims to bring more awareness to the reality of young people's lives since the Myanmar military staged a coup on February 1st, 2021. Stories are collecting through interviews with each protagonist, whenever they are, presently, in Myanmar. Sai is a young man from Northern Shan State who migrated to Yangon for better work and education opportunities. He was interviewed on April 4th.
"I had had a few drinks that evening, so I was quite thirsty throughout the night before February 1st. When I got up to drink some water at around 4 a.m., I saw a message about the coup in a group chat I have with my classmates. After I read the message, I started shouting to wake up my two roommates and a friend that was staying with us at the time. We checked the Facebook pages of various media outlets to confirm if the news was true—and it was. We were all shocked and just kept saying: Sh*t, this is really happening. It felt as if somebody foreign, from the outside, took our independence from us.
We didn't really know what to do, but at around 7 or 8 a.m., we went to a tea shop nearby to see what was happening. It was pretty quiet. The day passed by and the night came, but we couldn't sleep and just wondered: What should we do? How should we respond? What kind of future awaits us now? For years I had been working hard to pay for my three younger sisters’ education. My family back in Shan State was finally doing okay financially because of that. But how could we do that now, with this coup?! I felt like I had lost everything, with so many others like me in Myanmar that had been trying to escape poverty.
Before February 1st, I was working in Yangon while preparing for university in the U.S., for which I had recently received a scholarship. I was getting ready for my English proficiency test and discussing visas and other practical issues with my classmates. After the coup, all these conversations stopped. I didn't want to talk about these things anymore—it just felt wrong. Instead, I wanted to focus on what to do in the present, how to react to the current situation in the country. And so my first priority became participating in the protests in my township, Sanchaung, while trying to catch up on my work at night.
Most days we gather at around 9 or 10 a.m. on one of the small side streets and then go to the main road together. The police are usually already there. I tend to stand close to the frontline, so I can see exactly what is happening. The frontline fighters are very young, brave, and smart. They know how to lead and how to instruct others. I feel so proud and hopeful seeing them—it makes me think there is a bright future ahead of us. Apart from protests, banging pots and pans every night is very important as well. It boosts people's courage and motivates them. It is a daily reminder of what we still have to do. And it also allows you to release all the anger and guilt you feel about not being able to protect our young people from dying every day.
Both of my roommates have already left Yangon, but if I go home to my family, I don't think I would be able to do anything in my village, both in terms of work and my participation in the protest movement. There is no internet in my village anymore, and soldiers are now camping in the school compound. I am also the first person in my village to graduate, so I think I would attract too much attention.
What helps me get through these difficult times is the memory of the very first protests in February: remembering the female factory workers who started these protests, or all the people out in the streets who supported us, since none of them wanted to live under the military regime. I feel hopeful about the future—I believe everything will get better. People now talk openly about the suffering that the various vulnerable groups in the country have been enduring, so I think the chances of reconciliation are quite high. I also got a lot of energy from listening to a band that was playing at the protests at some point. It was a group of young, very skilled musicians that gathered next to Pandomar Park under a simple vinyl poster proclaiming 'Music for Civil Disobedience Movement' and entertained everybody with revolutionary songs. They stopped playing after the first crackdown though.
Unfortunately, Myanmar doesn't really have great neighbors, at least when it comes to their respective governments. So, I would like to appeal to ordinary people living in these countries instead, to put pressure on their governments to not support the military regime in any way. I just want everybody in Myanmar to be able to build a good future for themselves."