"We Will Not Give Up."
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. Ma Poe works in the field of peacebuilding in Yangon. She was interviewed on April 5th.
“Despite having been discriminated against by the very same society, I feel like I need to move on from the past and get involved today, whichever nationality I am. Taking action and standing up is the only way forward.”
"On that day, I had planned to go to the office early. I had an important report to finish, and I like working in the early hours of the day, when the city is still quiet, slowly waking up. I was about to leave the house—it was around 6:30 a.m.—when I received a message in our team's group chat: 'Do not go to the office today'. There had been a military coup, the internet had been shut down, and our leader Daw Aung San Suu Kyi together with other members of the government had been arrested.
I was shocked. I have been working in the peace and conflict field for years, and I could not believe this was happening in 2021. But my parents remained calm; they had seen this happen before, and so it seemed like we could get used to living under a military regime again. This shocked me even more: Why were they so cool about it?! I wanted to connect with friends, but the network was still down. I felt so lonely. The street was quiet; not even the usual fruit and bean sellers were around. Is this it? It felt as if we were going to let it happen, just like that. Finally, at around 12 p.m., when the internet was reconnected, I saw the resistance being organized by young people online. Only after that was I able to eat my breakfast and breathe normally.
I live in a working-class township of Yangon. People are pretty poor; some are daily workers. I don't know my neighbors well, as I work downtown and typically only spend evenings and early mornings at home. We are Indians, but my parents and grandparents were born in Myanmar, so we all have Myanmar citizenship. However, we still don't feel like we belong here, and we have experienced discrimination for years. I guess that’s why my parents remained so calm on that day; maybe they thought it wasn’t their struggle. If they wanted to, they could fly back to India. It reminded me of the Rohingya crisis, when we felt like we couldn’t talk about our own feelings and sorrows, because we feared a similar kind of injustice could happen to us too.
Even before the coup, life wasn't that fun, since we had already been living under Covid-19 restrictions since April 2020. I mostly stayed in and worked at home. I thought we were finally close to going back to ‘normal’, but I couldn't have been more wrong. Right now, I can't even focus on my studies or work; I can only focus when I am out, fighting for our rights. I am putting all my energy into the Spring Revolution.
In February, there were no protest leaders and everybody would simply go out into the streets to join massive crowds in towns and cities all over Myanmar. The first time I joined such a crowd was in Hledan Township. I was amazed by how many people were there! We were all shouting with our hearts, raising the three fingers' salute, and it motivated me so much. But since the end of February, after brutal crackdowns by the military, there have been much fewer people participating. It is mainly the famous Generation Z that continues to be active.
We are now organizing smaller gatherings, and often doing walking protests, since this makes it easier for us to disperse when the security forces arrive. We also change the location every day to make it difficult for them to track our moves. But we also know that we are not safe anywhere, because there are so many informers around. When we pass by tea shops or street stalls selling noodles, the staff doesn’t encourage us anymore. They are scared of getting hurt. The brutality of the oppressor has brought fear into our hearts.
In my township, people go to the market in the morning as usual. Children are playing in the streets; motorcycles, cars, and bicycles are circulating somewhat normally. People here are not that afraid because they haven’t protested for days. You don't even notice there has been a coup. However, every evening, a strange silence settles over the neighborhood, and at 8 p.m., people turn off their lights. I am the only one banging pots and pans now—everybody else worries that this will bring repression to our neighborhood. My family doesn't bang pots and pans anymore either. Two days ago, my dad hid them from me, but I managed to find new ones.
Sometimes I hear the sound of another discrete pot-banging somewhere close by. I know it is dangerous. They can come and arrest us—not just me, but my whole family. Of course I’m scared, but I am more scared of doing nothing. If we are afraid, how must the people in conflict areas feel? They have been violently oppressed for years, so I feel like I can't be selfish. Despite having been discriminated against by the very same society, I feel like I need to move on from the past and get involved today, whichever nationality I am. Taking action and standing up is the only way forward—for my country's future and for those who have suffered over 70 years of oppression and civil war.
When I was attending my post-graduate studies in Yangon, there were only 20 students in my class, but it was still difficult for us to agree on issues about Daw Aung San Suu Kyi, the country's leadership, the many ethnicities, and so on. I learned a lot from this experience. Now I have so much more sympathy for my classmates from conflict areas. When I was studying with them, I thought we were the same, but only now can I really imagine the mental and physical brutality they have been through.
I can't stop thinking about what my future will be like if the coup succeeds. If I have to run away from Yangon, will I be able to come back one day? I know that I might be shot or arrested, but what about people who are losing their lives? Before, when Yangon was peaceful, I went on holidays, and watched movies with my friends. Now I see that that was very selfish, because some people in our country were already suffering at that time. We didn’t do much for them then, and that is why it is so important for me to be involved now.
Along with many others, I used to think that the solution to the crisis would come from the international community, through ‘Responsibility to Protect’ (R2P) or other means. We repeatedly asked them for help and intervention. Now I see that we have to fight for ourselves, for our freedom. Outside help is welcome, but even if it doesn't come, we will move on, and we will not give up."