The 'undesirables'

Six years since the escalation of violence and their persecution in Myanmar, Rohingya Muslims are seeking justice and a safe path home

Warning: this story contains descriptions of violence and sexual assault that some readers may find disturbing.

An eerie silence hung over the hamlet of Tha Win Chaung in Muangdaw town on August 28, 2017, as families stayed home in fear of what would happen next.

Three days earlier, Myanmar’s military had begun a violent crackdown on the country’s Rohingya Muslim population. Soldiers marched through villages and towns in northern Rakhine, burning buildings, raping women, and killing indiscriminately in what they called “clearance operations”.  The army said it was fighting "terrorists" and denied attacking civilians.

At about 2pm, the villagers' fears became reality when troops in uniform surrounded Tha Win Chaung and opened fire. Men and women scattered into the rice fields and forests. Some were shot from behind, their bodies later dumped in a river. Others were butchered as homes were torched. 

Taker Hussein, aged 17 at the time, was shot in the right hand but managed to escape. His arm would later be amputated just beneath the elbow because of those wounds.

Taker Hussein was shot in the hand by Myanmar's military and had to have half his arm amputated. Photo: Reduwan

Taker Hussein was shot in the hand by Myanmar's military and had to have half his arm amputated. Photo: Reduwan

“I can never forget that day,” he tells The National.  

“I was playing with my friends when soldiers surrounded our village and started shooting."

For several days he hid in the forest, where a self-proclaimed healer cared for the young man and gave him some herbal medicine.

“My hand was bleeding and I was in pain," he says.

Like thousands of Rohingya before him, he took a boat across the Nar River to Bangladesh, where received professional medical attention.

“But the doctors could not save my hand,” says Mr Hussein. 

Some 750,000 Rohingya refugees fled the Rakhine stateand crossed the Nar River into Bangladesh to settle in camps in Cox's Bazar. Roy Cooper / The National

Some 750,000 Rohingya refugees fled the Rakhine stateand crossed the Nar River into Bangladesh to settle in camps in Cox's Bazar. Roy Cooper / The National

Today, he lives with his wife and two children at the sprawling Camp 3, in Bangladesh’s Kutupalong – the world’s largest refugee camp.

“I cannot even do any work to support my family. We are dependent on food rations that are hardly enough to feed my family,” says Mr Hussein.

He is one of more than a million Rohingya refugees in Bangladesh who remain stateless, with no real path to repatriation. Many are desperate to return home but fear for their safety in the country that persecuted and displaced them.

Smoke billows above a burning village in Myanmar's Rakhine state, as members of the Rohingya Muslim minority escape, in September 2017. AFP

Smoke billows above a burning village in Myanmar's Rakhine state, as members of the Rohingya Muslim minority escape, in September 2017. AFP

To date, not one refugee has returned to Rakhine State through the repatriation mechanism agreed on by Myanmar and Bangladesh in November 2017. The Rohingya’s demands for citizenship, which they have historically been denied, and requests for security assurances, have gone unheeded by Myanmar's military junta.

Six years on, survivors of attacks and sexual violence give their harrowing testimonies to The National in the hope that sharing their story would help lead to justice.

A harrowing escape

Aisha Kutun, 45, was one of thousands of women who were separated from their families and brutally raped by soldiers.

Before the attack, she and her husband, a farmer, had built a simple life for themselves and their nine children in their small home in Buthidaung township. 

Aisha Kutun's husband and four of her children were killed when Myanmar's military stormed their village in Rakhine State in August 2017. Photo: Aisha Kutun

Aisha Kutun's husband and four of her children were killed when Myanmar's military stormed their village in Rakhine State in August 2017. Photo: Aisha Kutun

They lost it all in August 2017 when the military stormed their village of Maung Nu Fara. The military said the crackdown was in retaliation for a series of attacks on about 30 police stations by the Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army (Arsa), an insurgent group that claims to fight for Rohingya rights. 

Ms Kutun’s husband and four of their children – aged between 12 and 22 - were killed by the army. 

“They shot them point-blank. It was a mindless attack without any provocation,” says Ms Kutun, who has since remarried and now lives in Kutupalong with her surviving five children. Her youngest was just six when they fled their home. 

“I ran for my life carrying the smaller children. We took refuge in a temporary shelter in the nearby village, where there were already hundreds of families who escaped similar violence.” 

She stayed there for five days, exchanging harrowing stories with other survivors.  

When the violence had appeared to subside, many families returned to their villages only to find them destroyed.  

“A day later, the military came to the temporary camp we had set up in our village, and gathered all of us in one place,” says Ms Kutun. "They separated men, women and children."

Rohingya refugee Mohamed Jabair, 21, at Kutupalong refugee camp in Bangladesh in October 2017. The burns on his body were sustained when his house was set on fire during the violence in Myanmar, he said. Reuters

Rohingya refugee Mohamed Jabair, 21, at Kutupalong refugee camp in Bangladesh in October 2017. The burns on his body were sustained when his house was set on fire during the violence in Myanmar, he said. Reuters

“We were about 45 women and they asked 12 women, who they thought were good looking, to form another group.” 

She was among those chosen and led by soldiers towards the bushes “for questioning”, but they were instead each pinned to the ground and repeatedly raped. 

“I protested when a soldier touched me inappropriately saying he wanted to search my body," she says.

"More men joined him and they asked me to shut up or get killed. I was raped again and again while I kept pleading them to stop." 

In 2019, a UN fact-finding mission determined the military was using rape and other forms of sexual violence as a weapon of war. 

A report issued the year before by the NGO Ontario International Development Agency, estimated that as many as 18,000 women and girls were raped by Myanmar's army and police.

Today, Ms Kutun says she is losing any sense of hope as the perpetrators of her assault are now running the country. 

“I want closure and to see the criminals punished. But the world has forgotten about the crimes against Rohingya,” she says.

Living in the congested camp in Bangladesh, Ms Kutun says her biggest concern is her safety. 

Police stationed at Myo Thu Gyi village where houses were burnt to the ground, near Maungdaw town, in northern Rakhine State in August 2017. AFP

Police stationed at Myo Thu Gyi village where houses were burnt to the ground, near Maungdaw town, in northern Rakhine State in August 2017. AFP

“We fled our home country for safety, but our condition is not better here," she says.

"Criminal gangs are kidnapping children, our men are being attacked and we are targets of sexual violence. We are doomed.”  

With no access to education or employment, and denied the freedom of movement, refugees in the camp are also contending with poverty, malnutrition and exposure to disease.

Dwindling humanitarian funds have further pushed refugees to a corner, forcing many to risk perilous boat journeys to reach neighbouring countries such as Malaysia, Thailand and Indonesia. 

Tensions between Buddhist-majority Myanmar and the country's Muslim Rohingya population began decades ago.

Often referred to as the world’s most persecuted minority, the Rohingya are said to be descendants of Arab traders and have their own language and culture. Many immigrated from India to Myanmar - then Burma - under British rule between 1824 and 1948.

But in 1982, after a new citizenship law stripped them of their national identity, the community lost their basic rights to healthcare, higher education, work and even voting rights.

Violence broke out in the early 1990s, 2009 and 2012 leading to waves of exodus to neighbouring countries – the largest being in 2017 when more than 750,000 Rohingya fled to Cox’s Bazar.

Umme Salam was sexually assaulted by Myanmar soldiers before she fled to a refugee camp in Bangladesh. Photo: Mujibur Rahma

Umme Salam was sexually assaulted by Myanmar soldiers before she fled to a refugee camp in Bangladesh. Photo: Mujibur Rahma

Umme Salam says she was only 18, in September 2017, when she was sexually assaulted and tortured by soldiers during a raid on her village. 

“They barged into my house and asked me to undress. I still shudder when I recall that day,” she says. 

“I started screaming and fighting back and three men dragged me to a room in a nearby house. They held a gun to my head and two soldiers took turns raping me for an hour." 

For years, she never spoke of her ordeal, worried of the stigma attached to a rape survivor. 

“I have not been able to find a husband as I don’t have parents to search for a groom,” she says. 

“For two months after the incident, I lived in fear that I would get pregnant. Luckily, I did not. But I was under treatment because of the internal injuries and was in severe pain,” Ms Salam, now 24, tells The National in her first media interview. 

“Everyone is forgetting who the Rohingya are and what we have endured.”

Ms Salam says she was cared for by a few villagers before she recovered well enough to escape to Bangladesh 

She says many other women in her village faced the same fate as the army marauded village after village looking for people with connections to the Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army.

“Those days were terrible. People were living in constant fear as the army was hunting down and massacring even innocent civilians including women and children,” says Ms Salam. 

“They burnt down homes including mine. Some women were taken to the forests and raped. Villages found their dead bodies a few days later.” 

She walked three days to reach the Naf river, where she paid boatmen to cross over to Bangladesh and journey on to Kutapalong refugee camp. 

Myanmar policemen ride a long canoe near Maungdaw, as smoke rises from burning villages, in August 2017. AFP

Myanmar policemen ride a long canoe near Maungdaw, as smoke rises from burning villages, in August 2017. AFP

Living in an overcrowded camp teeming with men and without the protection of a family comes with its own challenges, but the thought of returning to Myanmar fills Ms Salam with fear. 

“People are talking [about repatriation]. But how can I go back to the same village where I was raped?” she says.

She hopes the perpetrators will be brought to justice. 

“That is just my hope. Our plight has only worsened in the last five years, and the military is continuing its atrocities.” 

In Myanmar, Rohingya are called 'undesirable Bengalis' while in Bangladesh, they are considered uninvited guests overstaying their welcome as the government desperately tries to repatriate them. 

Bangladeshi Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina welcomed the refugees on humanitarian grounds and allowed international aid to flow in to support the Rohingya. 

But the government did not expect the crisis to last this long. 

Mohammed Mizanur Rahman, Bangladesh's commissioner for refugee relief and repatriation, tells The National: “When they came, we thought they would return in a few months.
"But nothing has happened and they are losing hope. They are frustrated because they are unable to go home.”  

Jamalida Begum, 34, has lost count of the number of times she has sat down on the dirt floor of her bamboo hut in Cox’s Bazar, recounting the horrific details of her assault by soldiers six years ago. 

At first, the mother of two would cry, then abruptly collect herself, driven by a desire to expose the atrocities she and countless other women endured. Today, she speaks with clinical precision, devoid of any emotional cues that would reveal her frustration and pain. Not because she has overcome her trauma but from a lack of hope that anyone cares. 

Jamalida Begum has lost hope that justice will be served for women like her who were raped by soldiers during the crackdown. Photo: Mujibur Rahma

Jamalida Begum has lost hope that justice will be served for women like her who were raped by soldiers during the crackdown. Photo: Mujibur Rahma

“In all these years, I have shared my painful story with aid workers, human rights activists, journalists, and investigators from the International Criminal Court of Justice," Ms Begum tells The National.  

“Nothing has changed. But I keep repeating it so that the world never forgets.” 

The military reached her village, Hadgudgapara, on October 11, two months after the start of the crackdown against the Rohingya in northern Rakhine. 

“They surrounded our village and started firing. They torched all the houses with our belongings. My husband was killed along with many other men,” she says. 

“The following day, they returned with bigger force. A group of soldiers dragged me to a bush and put a gun on my head and asked me to take off my clothes. Those men in uniform took turns and raped me until I lost consciousness.” 

Investigations by the UN and rights groups found Myanmar's troops indiscriminately raped, butchered and shot civilians, including children, in hundreds of villages before burning them to the ground.

In a bold act among a highly conservative community, Ms Begum and other women went public with their stories and told visiting foreign journalists about the rapes and persecution the military unleashed against them. 

A Rohingya woman struggles to cross the Naf river to Bangladesh, after fleeing Myanmar in October 2017. EPA

A Rohingya woman struggles to cross the Naf river to Bangladesh, after fleeing Myanmar in October 2017. EPA

“The army came back that night and killed the translator who helped me. They went around looking for me,” said Ms Begum. 

“I hid in the forest for seven days with my two children before I escaped to Bangladesh by boat.” 

She and her two sons sought refuge at Kutupalong.

Even in Bangladesh, Ms Begum says she does not feel safe as she openly advocates for women’s and Rohingya rights. Recently, she took part in protests against the forced repatriation of Rohingya to Myanmar. 

“The same military that ordered rape and killings [of Rohingya] is back in power in Myanmar and I cannot keep quiet,” she says. 

“I will starve in the camp but won’t return to the killing and raping fields in Myanmar. Women will get raped again and again.” 

Ms Begum says she is a target of criminal gangs inside the camp. 

“There is no safety here. My life is in danger, and I had to go into hiding a few months ago. But I will keep fighting until I get justice.” 

The long road to justice

Investigations by the UN and rights groups found the Myanmar soldiers indiscriminately raped, butchered and shot civilians, including children, in hundreds of villages before burning them to the ground.

Myanmar's de facto leader at the time, Aung San Suu Kyi, denied that crimes committed by the military against the Rohingya constituted a genocide. Reuters

Myanmar's de facto leader at the time, Aung San Suu Kyi, denied that crimes committed by the military against the Rohingya constituted a genocide. Reuters

After Myanmar's de facto leader at the time, Aung San Suu Kyi, denied charges of genocide against her country's military, at an International Court of Justice emergency hearing in The Hague in December 2019, Gambia took over as the legal lead at the world court. 

A member of the Organisation of Islamic Co-operation, Gambia filed a 46-page application accusing Myanmar of carrying out mass murder, rape and destruction of Rohingya villages in Rakhine state. 

Gambia has called for Myanmar to provide restitution and compensation to Rohingya survivors, alongside guarantees of non-repetition. The demands align closely with what Rohingya refugees and human rights organisations have advocated for years – including a safe return home, restoration of property, protection against persecution, and citizenship rights. 

Myanmar's preliminary objections against Gambia’s legal standing were dismissed by the ICJ in July 2022, clearing the path for proceedings to decide the merits of the case. 

The country was due to file a counter-petition against the Gambia in April but secured an extension until August, delaying proceedings further.

Frustrated by the slow judicial process, many human rights organisations are seeking legal recourse elsewhere. 

In July 2023, allegations of crimes against Myanmar's military leaders were heard at a court in Buenos Aires, Argentina.

The case was filed by Maung Tun Khin, head of the Burmese Rohingya Organisation UK in London, and Argentina opened an investigation in 2021 under the principle of universal jurisdiction. The principle makes it possible to prosecute perpetrators of crimes against humanity regardless of jurisdiction. 

Maung Tun Khin, president of Burmese Rohingya Organisation UK, speaks to reporters at the entrance to a federal court in Buenos Aires, Argentina, in December 2021. EPA

Maung Tun Khin, president of Burmese Rohingya Organisation UK, speaks to reporters at the entrance to a federal court in Buenos Aires, Argentina, in December 2021. EPA

Seven Rohingya – six women and a man – from Bangladesh, testified behind closed doors in front of the prosecution in a “historic first”, Mr Tun Khin tells The National

He says the victims gave “strong, fundamental evidence” of being gang raped, witnessing men and children being shot, and villages burnt down. 

Tomas Ojea Quintana, an Argentine human rights lawyer who represented Mr Tun Khin in court, described the case as an “extraordinary event in Argentina.” 

The court proceedings needed double interpretations from the Arakan language to English and then to Spanish. 

Maung Tun Khin and Argentine human rights lawyer Tomas Ojea Quintana arrive at a federal court in Buenos Aires, in December 2021. AFP

Maung Tun Khin and Argentine human rights lawyer Tomas Ojea Quintana arrive at a federal court in Buenos Aires, in December 2021. AFP

“They were telling a terrible story. Their testimonies were extremely important as all of them gave specific details and descriptions of indiscriminate killings that happened in their village between 2pm and 5pm on August 25,” says Mr Quintana, who previously served as UN Special Rapporteur on human rights in Myanmar and North Korea. 

From a legal point of view, he says, the court has enough evidence to conclude these crimes were committed. But the critical factor is identifying the perpetrators. 

“We have some names of those who were directly involved in the criminal acts. But we need to identify the chain of command, going up to General Min Aung Hlaing [commander-in-chief of the Myanmar military] on August 25, to nab the people who gave the orders,” says Mr Quintana.

Documents will be submitted by end of this year so the court can summon the perpetrators to Argentina, he adds.
“If they fail to attend, the court can issue arrest warrant or reach out to the Interpol,” says the lawyer. 

Similar cases under universal jurisdiction are being initiated in Turkey, Indonesia, Malaysia and East Timor by various rights groups, including the Myanmar Accountability Project. 

“We are turning to other avenues of justice because sadly, the UN Security Council is not doing enough," says Mr Tun Khin.

“We would like to see several other countries opening courts of universal jurisdiction. Our fight is not just for the Rohingya but for the entire people of Burma who are facing persecution and other crimes against humanity under the military junta," he adds, using Myanmar's former name.

While human rights lawyers and advocacy groups must navigate a complex legal mosaic, refugees just hope that justice will eventually be served. 

What does the future hold for the Rohingya?

In June 2023, tens of thousands of Rohingya protested in Bangladeshi camps, pushing for repatriation to their home country of Myanmar. 

They held signs reading “No more refugee life” and “We want to go home”. 

The UN views a “dignified and sustainable return to Myanmar” as the primary solution to the current crisis. Many Rohingya agree but with the simple stipulation that repatriation be voluntary, and their safety and human rights be assured. 

Displaced Rohingya sit on a makeshift shelter near the Bangladesh-Myanmar border, in August 2017. Reuters

Displaced Rohingya sit on a makeshift shelter near the Bangladesh-Myanmar border, in August 2017. Reuters

But whose responsibility is it to protect their rights and ensure safe passage? 

The UN says it should be the “collective goal” of the international community so the Rohingya can return home with the ability to move freely and access documentation, have access to citizenship, services and income-generation opportunities to rebuild their lives. 

But the collective goal also needs collective action, without which retuning home will remain a distant dream for the Rohingya. 

Bangladesh, which is not a signatory to the 1951 Refugee Convention, is eager to push through a Chinese-negotiated repatriation deal with Myanmar and an initial list of 1,600 Rohingya has already been made for a pilot programme. 

In May, Bangladesh officials, in co-ordination with Myanmar junta authorities, took 20 Rohingya refugees to Rakhine State to visit resettlement camps. 

Pictures released by Human Rights Watch showed the transit camp surrounded by barbed-wire fencing and security outposts, similar to detention camps in the Rakhine state. 

Myanmar’s continuing campaign to issue National Verification Cards (NVCs) that categorise Rohingya as foreign nationals and not citizens is another major barrier. 

A Rohingya woman holds a ration card issued by the World Food Programme, as she lines up to receive aid near Cox's Bazar, in Bangladesh. EPA

A Rohingya woman holds a ration card issued by the World Food Programme, as she lines up to receive aid near Cox's Bazar, in Bangladesh. EPA

Continuing political unrest and violence in Myanmar, where the ruling military regime is arresting and killing pro-democracy protesters, make the country a death-trap for the Rohingya. 

Moreover, nearly 600,000 Rohingya who still remain in Myanmar, continue to live in prison-like internment camps and villages without freedom of movement, as well as access to adequate food, health care, and education. 

According to Dr Ronan Lee, author of Myanmar’s Rohingya Genocide, the only way to ensure the safe return for the Rohingya is regime change in Myanmar.  

“That is what the Bangladesh should demand, and western countries should put pressure to impose sanctions,” says Dr Lee, who is also a Doctoral Prize Fellow at Loughborough University, London.

"The junta that is committing genocide and crimes against humanity is still able to import aviation fuel for air superiority, and countries like Russia and China are selling arms to them."

Rohingya children collect drinking water at the Bangladesh-Myanmar border in August 2017. Reuters

Rohingya children collect drinking water at the Bangladesh-Myanmar border in August 2017. Reuters

With conflicts in Ukraine and Sudan drawing the world’s humanitarian attention away from Bangladesh, Rohingya refugees are becoming a forgotten people. 

Recent decisions by the Bangladesh government have only been making life in the camps more unbearable for the refugees – perhaps in the hope that they will leave.  

In March, the World Food Programme reduced the value of food rations to $8 per person per month due to lack of funding, making camp life even more desperate. With no immediate solution to the Rohingya crisis, global efforts are needed to sustained humanitarian aid. 

While the responsibility lies with Myanmar over the safe return of the Rohingya, it is Bangladesh’s humanity that holds their hope and dignity. 

A house burns down in a village near Maungdaw in Rakhine State in September 2017. AFP

A house burns down in a village near Maungdaw in Rakhine State in September 2017. AFP

Rohingya people carry their belongings while crossing the Bangladesh-Myanmar border in August 2017. Reuters

Rohingya people carry their belongings while crossing the Bangladesh-Myanmar border in August 2017. Reuters

A Rohingya village near Maungdaw is burned to the ground in September 2017. Reuters

A Rohingya village near Maungdaw is burned to the ground in September 2017. Reuters

Members of Border Guard Bangladesh stand guard to prevent the Rohingya entering the country from Myanmar in August 2017. Reuters

Members of Border Guard Bangladesh stand guard to prevent the Rohingya entering the country from Myanmar in August 2017. Reuters

Armed men passing a burning house on September 7, 2017, in the Rakhine State. AFP

Armed men passing a burning house on September 7, 2017, in the Rakhine State. AFP

Displaced Rohingya refugees walk near Ukhia, at the border between Bangladesh and Myanmar, as they flee violence on September 4, 2017. AFP

Displaced Rohingya refugees walk near Ukhia, at the border between Bangladesh and Myanmar, as they flee violence on September 4, 2017. AFP

A Rohingya woman seeks shelter at a camp in Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh, on August 27, 2017. Reuters

A Rohingya woman seeks shelter at a camp in Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh, on August 27, 2017. Reuters

Rohingya refugees walk down a hillside in the Kutupalong refugee camp in Cox's Bazar on November 26, 2017. AFP

Rohingya refugees walk down a hillside in the Kutupalong refugee camp in Cox's Bazar on November 26, 2017. AFP

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A house burns down in a village near Maungdaw in Rakhine State in September 2017. AFP

A house burns down in a village near Maungdaw in Rakhine State in September 2017. AFP

Rohingya people carry their belongings while crossing the Bangladesh-Myanmar border in August 2017. Reuters

Rohingya people carry their belongings while crossing the Bangladesh-Myanmar border in August 2017. Reuters

A Rohingya village near Maungdaw is burned to the ground in September 2017. Reuters

A Rohingya village near Maungdaw is burned to the ground in September 2017. Reuters

Members of Border Guard Bangladesh stand guard to prevent the Rohingya entering the country from Myanmar in August 2017. Reuters

Members of Border Guard Bangladesh stand guard to prevent the Rohingya entering the country from Myanmar in August 2017. Reuters

Armed men passing a burning house on September 7, 2017, in the Rakhine State. AFP

Armed men passing a burning house on September 7, 2017, in the Rakhine State. AFP

Displaced Rohingya refugees walk near Ukhia, at the border between Bangladesh and Myanmar, as they flee violence on September 4, 2017. AFP

Displaced Rohingya refugees walk near Ukhia, at the border between Bangladesh and Myanmar, as they flee violence on September 4, 2017. AFP

A Rohingya woman seeks shelter at a camp in Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh, on August 27, 2017. Reuters

A Rohingya woman seeks shelter at a camp in Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh, on August 27, 2017. Reuters

Rohingya refugees walk down a hillside in the Kutupalong refugee camp in Cox's Bazar on November 26, 2017. AFP

Rohingya refugees walk down a hillside in the Kutupalong refugee camp in Cox's Bazar on November 26, 2017. AFP

Words Anjana Sankar
Editor Juman Jarallah
Photo Editor Scott Chasserot
Design Nick Donaldson
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