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Myanmar: Hope and solidarity in the midst of crisis
In Myanmar today, people clamor for something way beyond what we can provide — liberty and justice, safety and security.
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Protesters carry a wounded man shot with live rounds by security forces during a crackdown on demonstrations against the military coup in Yangon, Myanmar, on March 17, 2021. (AFP/Stringer)
T
he sweet fragrance of jasmine flowers strung across the rearview mirror of a taxi I was in offered the only sense of familiarity in a country that had changed dramatically overnight. That morning, Feb. 1, I had woken up stunned, like millions in Myanmar, to the news that the military had declared a state of emergency and seized power from the country’s civilian leadership.
As we drove through the eerily quiet streets of Yangon, the city seemed to lie in a stupor. What the taxi driver asked me that day while dropping me off would become the defining challenge for me and for many others in the coming days, “Will the international community help us?”
As the fierce and violent backlash against protesters over the last days shatters lives, as health care workers and others come under fire, as dreams and aspirations vanish, that question is becoming painfully pressing.
Overcoming the initial shock, hundreds of thousands of people across Myanmar had swiftly mobilized, steeling up for weeks and months of unrelenting struggle. I saw many of my otherwise composed Burmese colleagues overcome by grief but grittily determined to stand with their communities.
My initial worries paled in the face of the enormity of what many people in Myanmar faced. As many mourned the loss of their future in one fell swoop, I feared for the safety of our staff, and worried over disruptions in ongoing care for many of our patients.
As a humanitarian, I have been drilled for years to navigate the treacherous slope of politics through the impartial lens of needs. We mold our action to those needs, negotiating with whomsoever holds the keys to unlock access to the people we want to assist. I assumed our foreignness would dissuade us from riding the tide of emotions. But sometimes these self-fashioned bubbles burst.
In Myanmar today, people clamor for something way beyond what we can provide — liberty and justice, safety and security. I have received imploring messages from my colleagues, some who said they didn’t feel safe, others that they felt unprotected, vulnerable.
