Episode #49: Literally A Nightmare Scenario
None of this is new to Thiri.
Having worked at Human Rights Watch, she spent five long years listening to “firsthand accounts of people whose family got killed or harmed by the military.” The endless stories of trauma were so cruel and brutal that the only way to get through it was to become desensitized and develop a “thick emotional wall.” But then she left Myanmar for higher education in the US, where she finally allowed herself become human again. She returned to Myanmar several years ago to continue her work.
But since the coup, she’s had to relearn those old coping mechanisms. “It was really horrible for me to go through the emotional processing,” she admits. “Since then, I got that thick wall back. I'm quite numb to the situation. Even though I live in fear, I'm quite numb to general situation, and sometimes I don't even feel it anymore.”
In truth, Thiri says she actually alternates between feeling nothing, and feeling too much. When the rage and fear combine, it becomes like “some kind of big ball inside my chest, between my chest and the neck.” And then there are her nightmares—always running, hiding things, getting captured, arrested, even killed, so that she awakes with tense muscles, a dull mind, a lack of energy, and a feeling of being overwhelmed that this day, like all the others, still won’t be normal. She can’t even pause to enjoy a sunset anymore, because should she pull out a phone to get a picture of it, security forces could arrest her on the spot.
While Thiri no longer stays at home and now takes other security precautions, she knows that there is no real safety anywhere anymore, as even residents staying indoors are getting beaten, arrested, and even killed for no reason. So Thiri accepts this, saying grimly: “If they arrest me, I'm going to be arrested, and if they kill me, I'm going to get killed. That's it. I will fight until my last breath, but instead of living under them, I will rather die and not feel that fear anymore. I hate the fear.”
The one concern that does animate Thiri is the risk of being captured with her phone in hand, thus exposing her many contacts. For this reason, she usually goes outside without a phone during the day, and at night hides her phone deep in her underwear drawer, knowing that soldiers are afraid that a woman’s undergarments takes away their strength.
Given the regular nightmares she is facing in bed as well as in reality, it’s all the more remarkable that Thiri has chosen to remain in Myanmar, especially as she holds active visas for both Thailand and the US. In truth, she seriously considered getting to safety, but in the end, she decided she couldn’t face the guilt of escaping when so many others couldn’t, and felt a strong sense of unity that she must carry on until the end.
And Thiri plays no small role in the resistance. For years she had worked as a fixer for international journalists, including the New York Times, and so had extensive experience working through very challenging situations. That skill is now coming into play now, as she is being called upon daily to provide safe houses, transfer money, acquire materials, and a million other tasks that few others know how to do as well.
Even as a trained journalist, herself, Thiri struggles to adequately describe the reality of daily life under the coup. On the one hand, she feels that no matter how detailed foreign media reports are, the true sense of terror that the Burmese people are experiencing is simply not being conveyed. On the other hand, she also notes that, somewhat paradoxically, although Yangon has become like a war zone, a semblance of normal life does still continue, with markets, restaurants, cafes, gyms, and other businesses operating as usual.
Thiri is doing all she can to make sure that the world has a true understanding of what is happening in her country, although she has not been overly pleased with some of the journalism work so far. Particularly concerning to her was the recent visit of CNN’s Clarissa Ward. Besides finding her personally arrogant, Thiri did not feel that Ward’s reporting added anything new or insightful. More concerning to her was Ward’s lack of transparency about the fact that a pro-junta lobbyist, Ari Ben-Menashe, had arranged for CNN’s access into the country, a fact that was not disclosed. However, she does acknowledge that the mere presence of Western media gives many Burmese a reason to feel optimistic. “For the people,” she notes, “having CNN in our country is some kind of hope. Even though the reporting itself is problematic, I think knowing that people have hope, whether it is false or real, it will make them survive. So in essence, that CNN visit was important. And it can make the people continue their fight.”
Thiri was also dismayed that Ward didn’t recognize the brave work that local journalists were already doing in the country. She herself has been quite inspired by the professionalism and courage being shown by many of her peers today, especially given the high stakes. She acknowledges that journalism in Myanmar has come a long way, noting that many activists originally joined the field as a way to highlight their causes, and criticizing the misinformation that many journalists either willingly or unwittingly promoted during the Rohyingya crisis. But now, she sees them working seriously to verify information, represent different regions and communities, and taking a higher level of responsibility to make sure the stories are accurate and detailed.
Ultimately, Thiri is confident that they will win, if not for the simple fact that, in her words, “We deserve better.” What she’s not so certain of is how many Burmese will survive to witness the victory, herself included. Thiri explains it this way. “They cannot kill us all. So if any one of us survives, whether inside the country or outside, this is our victory. And even if it’s only one person left, that's our victory, because that person would continue the fight.”
Note that the artwork on this template is from Thiri herself. Read here the meaning behind her creation.