Hafizur Rahman
As dawn breaks over the crowded Rohingya refugee camp in Bangladesh, Nur Hossain, a frail 65-year-old man, sits on a makeshift bench outside his sister’s modest shelter. The shelter, already bursting at the seams, is now home to eight additional family members, who escaped the violence of Arakan State just a few months ago. With weary eyes, Nur recounts his harrowing journey—a story of survival, resilience, and the relentless pursuit of safety.
Life in Maung Daw: The Calm Before the Storm
Nur Hossain’s life was once one of quiet resilience in Maung Daw Township, Arakan State, Myanmar. After the devastating 2017 attacks, during which his village of Shedahpara was burned to ashes, a fragile peace eventually returned. Markets reopened, and for a few years, Rohingya families like Nur’s managed to rebuild their lives amidst the ashes of their past.
But the fragile peace was shattered in 2021 when the military coup plunged Myanmar into chaos once more. The emergence of the Arakan Army (AA) in Maung Daw escalated the violence. The AA’s clashes with the military turned the region into a battlefield, with Rohingya villages caught in the crossfire.
“The AA tortured people, took over villages, and killed thousands of people in our township,” Nur recalls. His family’s ordeal took a personal turn when his elder son was abducted and severely beaten by AA forces. “He couldn’t walk from the pain. We had to take him to the hospital, but even there, medical care was scarce.”
A New Wave of Violence
By 2024, the situation had become unbearable. Drone attacks and airstrikes turned villages into war zones. Nur vividly remembers the day the AA killed ten people in his village—six women and four men—in a single drone strike. “There was no hospital, no doctors. People died without treatment, their bodies left to rot.”
The constant violence forced Nur and his family to flee their home in Maung Nipara. They sought refuge in Hangdah Para, only to find themselves caught in the middle of relentless attacks. “Dead bodies were everywhere—on the roads, in the fields, even by the river. The stench of death was everywhere,” he says, his voice trembling.
After moving to a nearby primary school for temporary shelter, the AA forces arrived, ordering them to leave under threat of death. Fearful and desperate, Nur’s family joined hundreds of others in a frantic escape to the seashore.
The Journey to Bangladesh
At the shore, tragedy struck again. Drone bombs and airstrikes killed over 200 people in front of Nur’s eyes. The survivors scrambled to find boats to cross the Naf River into Bangladesh. Nur sold his family’s remaining land to pay the hefty price demanded by the boatmen—5 lakh kyats per person.
“The journey was terrifying,” he says. “But we had no choice. Staying meant death.”
The boat brought them to Teknaf, but their ordeal was far from over. The Border Guard Bangladesh (BGB) intercepted the boat, forcing the sailors to flee and leaving the refugees stranded. Local gangs quickly took advantage of the situation, demanding more money for their release.
Nur had to borrow 22,000 Taka per person from relatives already in the refugee camps. “I had no choice. My family’s safety depended on it,” he says.
Life in the World’s Largest Refugee Camp
Today, Nur and his family live in Kutupalong, the largest refugee camp in the world. They share his sister’s cramped shelter, struggling to make ends meet. Debt looms over Nur like a dark cloud, and the future feels uncertain.
“We get rations from the WFP and some help from the community, but it’s not enough,” Nur explains. His grandchildren, who should be playing and learning, now live with the trauma of displacement and violence.
Despite the hardships, Nur finds solace in the resilience of his family and community. “We survived, and that’s what matters. But I dream of a day when we can live without fear, without hunger, and without debt.”
A Plea for Justice and Humanity
Nur Hossain’s story is a stark reminder of the ongoing Rohingya crisis and the urgent need for international attention. For survivors like him, the journey to safety is riddled with violence, exploitation, and loss. But even in the face of despair, the human spirit endures.
As Nur concludes his story, the sun sets over the camp, casting a golden glow over the sprawling maze of tarpaulin shelters. For now, he clings to hope—the hope that his story will be heard and that someday, justice will prevail.
