Episode #290: Surviving Scorched Earth
Release Date: December 6
Nyo Mar was born in Myanmar, a country she has always called home. Yet her life has been marked by discrimination, which has made her feel like an outsider since her childhood years. As an ethnic Indian Muslim in a largely Buddhist land, she grew up in a community that faced constant prejudice and exclusion. From an early age, she understood that her identity would set her apart. The prejudices she endured went beyond whispers and glances—they were an inseparable part of her daily life, woven into her interactions at school, in her neighborhood, and in society-at-large.
While growing up, Nyo Mar watched her father, a health supervisor working for the government, come home visibly shaken and humiliated by the discrimination he faced at his workplace. He would be called derogatory names like “kala,” a racially charged slur against those perceived to be foreigners, particularly darker-skinned Indians. She remembers asking her father why people would treat him that way; his helplessness in the face of that hatred made her realize that prejudice was not something that could easily be explained away or resolved.
Nyo Mar often began to question why she was also treated differently from her peers. "I asked my mom, ‘Why they call me kala? Why they call us a bad name?’ My mom really didn’t want to explain it. She said, ‘This is our fate! You cannot change it. You have to live with it.’” This realization was painful. She learned to accept the prejudice, but she never stopped dreaming of a different future, one where her children would not have to endure what she had gone through.
When she was in high school, she had an unfortunate encounter that solidified her understanding of her place in Myanmar. Students were required to apply for citizenship cards, a simple enough procedure for most of her peers. But when her turn came, the officer in charge erupted in anger, accused her of being a “mix-blood person,” and claimed that she could not enroll in the school because she was Muslim. “The officer shouted at me, ‘You cannot apply! You have to go to the township immigration office!’ He shouted at me in front of my friends. So at the time I feel really angry and I didn’t want to go the next day. I felt really ashamed, and also I couldn’t express this feeling.” The shame of that moment stayed with her, and she felt she could no longer attend school with the same sense of belonging. For most of her peers, citizenship was an entitlement; for Nyo Mar, it was something she had to fight for, but something just out of reach.
Even in her pursuit of higher education, barriers remained. Despite her determination and hard work, Nyo Mar faced significant obstacles at the university. Although she completed a master's degree, her professor contemptuously dismissed her aspirations to become a lecturer, telling her that she would never be fit for such a position. Her academic ambitions in Myanmar were crushed by the prejudice that shadowed every step of her journey.
Determined to make a difference in spite of all the barriers, Nyo Mar began working for NGOs that focused on community engagement. She joined an HIV/AIDS prevention program targeting Muslim youth. However, discrimination dogged her even in this work. Authorities harassed her and her colleagues, questioning their right to provide aid simply because they were Muslim. “The administration officer tried to arrest us, because we are doing awareness raising and sharing information about HIV/AIDS through our communities. I explained to them about our organization, and that we have to focus on these young generations to prevent the HIV and AIDS. He said, ‘This is not your job.’” The officer went on to question Nyo Mar about her salary amount as well as who funded the organization, along with other such uncomfortable questions.
During her first year at university, ethnic and religious tensions became heightened, and during one particularly tense period, the local Muslm community was attacked by mobs. Neighbors’ homes were burned, and people were killed, while the authorities and even some local Buddhist communities stood by. She recalls vividly how her mother decided to move the family to Yangon, hoping for a safer life. “My mom, she really worried about us in our area, the majority was Buddhist.” But the discrimination was no less in the big city. There were times she feared for her life simply because her facial features identified her as someone from the Indian subcontinent. “I took a bus, and on the bus, if somebody tried to kill me, I don't know how to protect myself! I’m not wearing a hijab, but my face looks like an Indian face. So that's why I was really afraid when I used to take the bus.” In those moments, she would feel the suffocating reality of her existence in Myanmar, and that to many, she would simply never belong.
For Nyo Mar, the 2021 military coup in Myanmar marked a turning point. It wasn’t that the discrimination suddenly disappeared—it was that the true nature of Myanmar’s political leadership became obvious. She and many others had hoped that the National League for Democracy, led by Aung San Suu Kyi, would offer a new path forward, one that would include minorities like her and build a more just society. But time and again, she found that these hopes were unfounded. And so the coup shattered the illusion of progress for everyone, equally. But sadly, even after the military took power, and resistance forces rallied to fight for a federal democracy, she noticed how Muslim voices were still being excluded from discussions about the future of Myanmar. “Muslim minorities are not actively involved in the federal democracy charter,” she notes dejectedly.
Despite her disillusionment, Nyo Mar has found a glimmer of hope at the grassroots level; she has seen a genuine desire to connect across ethnic and religious lines in the younger generation, in particular. Bamar youth have publicly expressed regret for the years their communities have misunderstood the plight of ethnic minorities, including the Rohingya. For the first time, she felt that there was a possibility for real change, driven by those who understood the importance of empathy, solidarity, and a shared struggle against a common enemy—the military. Yet she remains cautious. True change, she believes, required more than public apologies or symbolic gestures. It required dismantling deep-seated prejudices, changing the way people saw each other, and ensuring that every community had a seat at the table. “We have to trust each other and we have to get rid of our anger.”
When the situation in Myanmar deteriorated further, Nyo Mar fled to Thailand, where she now hopes to continue her work in a safer environment. Yet, even here, she faces challenges. Burmese refugees, particularly Muslims, are treated with suspicion, seen as illegal immigrants who have no place in Thai society. She sees firsthand how the Burmese diaspora in Thailand—comprising different ethnicities, religions, and political affiliations—struggles to survive. NGOs find it difficult to operate, and obtaining legal status is a constant battle.
Alongside her activism, Nyo Mar is pursuing further education at Chiang Mai University; she obtained degrees in human rights, peace studies, and is now working towards a Ph.D. in gender and sexuality. Her academic pursuits are not just about personal achievement, however. Nyo Mar is seeking to create a knowledge base that can be used to advocate for policy changes in Myanmar. “My focus on the feminist point of view, is equal participation at all levels of government, and not only the government system, but also the other NGO or INGO or other international organizations, and in the local communities, women have to participate in the decision-making process.”
Nyo Mar has also founded the Feminist Minority Women Institute, a platform dedicated to ensuring that minority women had a voice in political decision-making processes and the nation’s future. She believes that the path to a peaceful Myanmar lies in full inclusion—particularly of minority women, who faced multiple layers of discrimination. “Minority women face a lot of violations [and] we face a lot of sexual violence as well. So that's why we are trying to focus on women’s participation at a political decision-making level, to build the better future for peace.”
Nyo Mar’s story is a powerful testament to the resilience of those who refuse to be silenced. Though her life has been marked by trauma, displacement, and repeated acts of discrimination, she has turned her pain into a force for change. She has faced many setbacks, yet she continues to fight for a Myanmar that respects the dignity and rights of all its people.
For her, the fight for democracy is not just about removing the military from power—it is about dismantling the structures of hatred, exclusion, and prejudice that have kept its diverse population pitted against each other for decades, and kept communities like hers on the outside for far too long. "Enough is enough! We all are faced a lot of violations— as a Muslim minority, and even Buddhist communities face this because of our military. So enough is enough.”
Nyo Mar remains committed to a better tomorrow and dreams of a country where children will not have to ask their parents why they are treated differently, where no one will be made to feel like a stranger in their own land. “We have to understand each other and accept each other and respect each other. Human dignity is the most important thing.” Her story is not just her own; it is the story of many in Myanmar—of those who dream of a future where they are seen, heard, and accepted as equals.
If you liked this episode, you may also be interested in the following, related interviews:
· Mratt Kyaw Thu, a journalist from Rakhine State, shares his experiences navigating ethnic and religious tensions, particularly between Rakhine Buddhists and Muslims. His reporting on the violence and discrimination faced by minority groups in Myanmar, especially in the context of the Rohingya crisis, highlights the broader themes of survival, resilience, and resistance to systemic oppression.
· Sujauddin Karimuddin explores the history of the Rohingya persecution in Myanmar, particularly in Rakhine State, focusing on their identity, discrimination, and struggles for recognition. His experiences reflect a broader pattern of ethnic and religious conflict in the country.
· Hassan delves into his personal experience as a Muslim in Myanmar. He discusses his family background, the struggles faced by ethnic minorities, and the loss of livelihood following the military coup. His story of providing support to CDM members and the community in the face of overwhelming adversity highlights the intersection of faith, resistance, and the harsh realities of living under a military dictatorship.
· Dan Sullivan discusses the Rohingya refugee crisis, emphasizing the ongoing persecution, displacement, and dire conditions faced by over a million refugees in camps in Bangladesh. His insights highlight the complex interplay of international politics, local tensions, and the urgent need for a sustainable solution, mirroring the broader context of marginalized communities in Myanmar striving for recognition, survival, and justice.
· Elliott Prasse-Freeman explores the Islamophobia and systemic exclusion faced by Muslim communities in Myanmar, highlighting their struggles for recognition and survival. He also examines how Muslim activists, alongside other grassroots movements, resist state violence and work to challenge the oppressive structures in place, despite the absence of institutional support.