Safeguarding Life

The youngest children begged and cried for water. They did not understand.

Thankfully, they did not understand that their fathers and their older brothers had been murdered. They did not understand that this endless journey across rivers, through mountains, and past military checkpoints was a last-minute escape. They did not understand that they were mostly naked because there was no time to grab clothing. They did not understand that their school books and toys were now ash. They did not understand that some of their grandparents, siblings, cousins, uncles, classmates, and neighbors had not survived.

They begged and cried for water because they were thirsty and hungry and exhausted. Their mothers looked down at their young children, alive—thankfully, still alive—and picked them up or urged them onward.

This is the story of three mothers whose lives became forever linked on August 27, 2017.

Harsa

Harsa and her large family had created a warm and meaningful life despite the Burmese authorities’ restrictions. She and her husband were raising seven daughters and a 12-year-old son. They lived alongside her husband’s parents and younger brother.

The entire extended family prioritized education, and even the young girls attended both regular school and religious studies. All of the children idolized their uncle, Harsa’s favorite brother-in-law, who was himself a teacher and about to get married.

August 27, 2017

Sumida could hear the baby crying as she slowly regained consciousness. Before she opened her eyes, she felt someone place a small, warm body into the curve of her arms as she lay on the ground.

The thoughts rained down upon her as she struggled to understand what was happening.

“Yes, yes, this is your baby,” she heard voices say. “Take your baby!” She nodded, but when she looked at the infant, she knew the truth. This was not her son.

She brought the abandoned infant up to her chest and fed him as if he were her own.

She saw dirty water in a nearby bowl and drank from it, giving some to the baby. She gently washed his head and chest and rocked him in between feedings.

Those hiding alongside her said it was time to leave, and she followed them. It took a while for the memories of the past day to return. The tidal wave of relived trauma crashed over her all at once.

The military had come to drag her family away. As soldiers fired shots nearby, a stray bullet ripped through her home. Sumida’s son, who she’d been cradling on her lap, began to wail. Her father-in-law grabbed the child to sooth and quiet him. In the chaos that followed, she lost sight of them both.

She was clutching desperately to her husband’s arm as a soldier dragged him away. She tried to pull her husband back to her, and, suddenly, the soldier shot him in the chest. The soldier then shoved Sumida to the ground. She lost consciousness.

“I Saw More Bodies”

On that same morning, Rabiya set out in search of her husband and children. She had been in a neighboring village when the military began its massacre 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 Sumida without luck and kept the baby on her hip as she looked for her own children. She called for her daughter again and again, but heard only silence in response.

Rabiya continued to hear conflicting accounts about where her family had ended up. She crossed over the river to join others who had fled Maung Nu. She was urged to give the baby away, but she refused. She bathed the baby and found cola for him to drink until she was able to ask young mothers to share their milk.

Reunited

People began to crowd around Sumida saying, “Your son has been found!” Even her aunt came to her. “Sumida! Sumida, your son has been found.”

It wasn’t until she held him to her heart, fed him, and met his eyes that she knew. “Only then, I could convince myself it was my son and found peace in my mind.”

I became extremely happy after getting him back.

As overjoyed as she felt, she regretted not saying a prayer to spare her children’s father as well. “I feel if I had done that, I would have probably found my husband.”

Harsa too was reunited with her baby girl. It was her beloved younger brother, the teacher Hareth, who brought the child to her. He heard that a woman had been caring for the infant. The woman turned out to be Sumida.