Chapter IV
Destroyed
They are killing people here. Please go into hiding.
— Ayub, a Rohingya man
The Burmese military increased restrictions on the Rohingya following the atrocities of 2016. Their everyday lives grew more and more difficult. In August 2017, the rebel group ARSA attacked several Burmese police posts. The military used this attack to claim Rohingya were an imminent threat to national security.
On the morning of August 25, 2017, Burmese soldiers launched a planned attack, referred to as a “clearance operation,” on Rohingya throughout Rakhine State. They massacred men and women, slaughtered children in front of their parents, and burned homes, schools, and mosques. They destroyed evidence of the generations of Rohingya who had lived there.
Fourteen-year-old Yasin stands on a pier as smoke rises from burning Rohingya villages across the Naf River on September 17, 2017. He fled his village two days earlier.
Photo: Greg Constantine
Homes Burning
After the Burmese military attacked their villages in August 2017, Rohingya fled as their communities burned to the ground. They recorded the devastation on their cell phones.
Maung Nu, One Village
Burmese soldiers targeted villages throughout northern Rakhine State, where Rohingya made up the majority of the population. This is the story of the massacre in one village, Maung Nu, in August 2017, as told by survivors.
An aerial photograph of Maung Nu.
Photo: Planet
Preparing for the Massacre
In June 2017, military trucks rolled into the village of Maung Nu. Soldiers confiscated kitchen knives and machetes and tore down wooden-fence posts. They told villagers that even with an already-imposed curfew, no lights could be turned on after 6 p.m., even to cook a meal.
“We felt that we were being stripped naked,” recalls 28-year-old Showife, a Rohingya resident of Maung Nu.
Later, the military returned. This time, the soldiers tied pieces of red cloth around several mango trees in front of Rohingya homes and near a mosque.
Showife’s mother watched from a window as a soldier tied the cloth around the tree in front of their home: “They’re eyeing this place. I worry what they’ll do here.”
The Beginning
On the morning of August 25, several members of the rebel group ARSA attacked a border guard and military base near Maung Nu. Two days later, military trucks filled with armed soldiers drove into the village. Many villagers sought refuge inside the compound of one of the town’s wealthiest families, thinking they’d be protected. Instead, the military forced even more villagers into the large property, separating the men and women in the process.
The soldiers made the women remove their clothing. They inspected them with flashlights for valuables, like cell phones and jewelry, and used their head scarves to gag their husbands and sons. The men and older boys were then tied together and kicked and beaten so that they couldn’t move.
Two Rohingya men drew this map of their village, Maung Nu. The red-filled shape near the center-right identifies the Bodru family compound where the military carried out the massacre.
Photo: Greg Constantine
Helpless in Horror
“Mom! Mom!”
Jomila ran outside into the crowded courtyard when she heard Jahingir screaming her name. He was slamming his head against the brick-lined well where soldiers tied him. He had just seen his father murdered in front of him.
Military officers surrounded Jomila, pointing a gun and a sword at her. They cut off part of her finger as she rushed past them to get to her son. Some other women ran out after her and dragged her back inside. The officers turned to her son.
They didn’t kill Jahingir in the same place as his father. Instead, they took him up to an orchard on the compound where others were being murdered. She recognized his screams instantly. She made another desperate attempt to reach him before he died, but soldiers restrained her.
Violence all Around
When Mohammed heard the Burmese military entering his village, he grabbed the hand of his youngest son, 13-year-old Mohammed Anwer, and started to run.
They ran as fast as they could alongside family, friends, and neighbors. In the chaos, his son let go of his hand and fled in a different direction.
Mohammed raced toward the forest outside of town. He searched everywhere for his boys. He finally found his youngest in the forest. The boy told his father what had happened during their separation. He had fled into a large, nearby compound, crowded with other children who sought safety in numbers. But the home he had entered would turn out to be the site of the mass slaughter of up to 100 Rohingya. He told his father he saw his older brothers—Salamat and Zahid Ullah—dragged away and killed.
Close to Death
Nose pressed against dirt, his arms touching men to his right and to his left, Mohammadul could only guess at what was happening around him.
He heard an officer make a phone call. The officer paused, turned to the nearby soldiers and gave the order: “Get started!”
Soldiers dragged Mohammadul out of the compound. They forced him into a seated position with his two male relatives on either side. The soldiers then shot each man.
Mohammadul’s face slammed back into the dirt. While he was unconscious, a soldier untied his hands and covered his body—presuming him dead like the two men beside him and like all of the others killed around him. Mohammadul fell in and out of consciousness. Eventually, in shock but awake, he dared to look around him. A soldier standing guard noticed the movement. Mohammadul and the soldier locked eyes. And then Mohammadul realized the military man had raised his gun.
Mohammadul felt another bullet rip into his chest, and he faded away again.
Saving a Life
I thought to myself, ‘where am I supposed to go now with the baby?’ I picked him up, and I was following the blood trail.
— Rabiya, a Rohingya woman
Rabiya set out in search of her husband and children. She had been in a neighboring village when the military began its slaughter in Maung Nu. She heard conflicting reports from others about whether her family had escaped to the river or had returned home.
Rabiya eventually made her way to Maung Nu. She opened the door to her uncle’s home and saw his body lying lifeless from a gunshot wound.
“I walked to another uncle’s house, then to another. I kept asking myself why I decided to come back to this,” she says. “I saw more bodies...I looked at the floor and it was flooded with blood from the slaughter. I went inside Zahid Hussein’s house, and I found a baby still alive.”
Rabiya reached for the tiny boy who she instantly recognized.
She searched for his parents without luck and kept the baby on her hip as she turned her attention back to finding her own children. She examined the corpses before walking to the homes of other relatives. In desperation, she called for her daughter, “O Tahera, Tahera!” but heard only silence in response.
Documenting the Atrocities
One of the few who escaped the massacre inside the compound, Ayub stayed behind after the soldiers left.
“I visited all these places, risking my life, and made a list of the people who were killed and how they were killed,” Ayub said.
“They destroyed our religion by killing our religious scholars; our education by killing our teachers; and our economy by killing our businessmen and traders. They destroyed every aspect of our lives.”
Death and Devastation
“I made all these lists not just to keep for my records but to show to the world in order to get justice,” Ayub said.
The military murdered up to 100 Rohingya in Maung Nu on August 27. More than 9,000 Rohingya were estimated to have been killed throughout Rakhine State as part of the month-long government-led massacre.
During this period, soldiers burned thousands of homes, schools, stores, and mosques. They raped Rohingya women. More than 700,000 Rohingya fled to neighboring Bangladesh.
A list of those murdered in Maung Nu written by Ayub.
Photo: Greg Constantine