The following is the raw and unedited testimony of K, my dear Burmese friend whom I met through a mutual friend in first-year. I want to share his story to help inform others of what’s happening in countries like Myanmar. I trust that the wider issues and the moral lessons will make themselves obvious to the reader without my spelling them out. His testimony speaks for itself.
As a brief disclaimer: Some readers may find the following upsetting.
“Just put my name as K. The current state of my country, Myanmar, is both heartbreaking and terrifying. Our country had only just began building hope for a peaceful and fruitful future when the 2021 military coup occurred and shattered any such dream. Since then, Myanmar has been in chaos, with violence and corruption reaching unimaginable levels. Administrative government officers and traffic police alike are contributing to the turmoil. The conflict feels like it’s swallowed not only my entire life but that of everyone else living here, forcing me to make decisions I never thought I would face, and every day is a fight to survive both physically and mentally. Those privileged enough to live in urban cities are able to go about their daily lives as normal. Yet, the other half of the country is in a civil war where the military is committing some of the most atrocious and cruel acts ever recorded. The civil war has been going on since we got independence from the British in 1948. In the rural regions, children are being killed at school due to the air strikes. Women are being violated. People are getting massacred. Villages are being burnt. People must flee. It is a living hell.
On a personal level, the coup has disrupted everything. My family, like so many others, has been torn apart. Some have fled to neighbouring countries seeking safety, while others have stayed, unsure of their futures. Friends I used to see regularly are now distant figures, scattered across countries or even continents, trying to rebuild their lives in places that feel alien to them. The decisions I have had to make have never been easy—whether to leave the country or stay and fight for what we once had.
Emotionally, the situation feels like a living nightmare, and it is a textbook dystopia for us. There’s fear, of course—fear of arrest, fear of being targeted, fear of losing loved ones. But there’s also a deep, growing sense of helplessness. Seeing people around me struggle to make ends meet and watching as corruption spreads like wildfire, has made me question my own values and how I can contribute to change the narrative. This isn't the future I imagined, but it’s the reality I face every day.
My friends and family have experienced similar heartbreak. Some have become vocal advocates for change, putting themselves at great risk. They have chosen to join the People’s Defence Force to fight the military back and are also living in camps to help refugees and soldiers provide medical aid and rations, etc. Alternatively, others have succumbed to the pressure, and have chosen to remain silent and continue to work at government offices and attend schools that are operated by the military followers. The constant fear of being surveilled, whether through our phones or in the streets, has affected how we communicate, how we act, and even how we think. The weight of this oppression lingers over every aspect of life—education, work, and social gatherings. It’s like the world is watching us burn, and no one is stepping in to help.
For me, the future feels uncertain. I once thought I knew the path I was on, but now, everything is unpredictable. Some of my plans have been put on a hold, and others have had to be abandoned entirely. It’s difficult to see beyond the turmoil, and even though I try to stay hopeful, my optimism feels like a thin thread that could snap at any moment.
Growing up, I rarely heard Myanmar discussed in Western media outlets. Whenever or wherever I introduce myself and where I am from, most people don't even know of its existence. It’s only when things turned truly dire—when people were being burned alive, when mass protests erupted—that Myanmar appeared on the global stage. But even then, it was brief, and Western attention moved on quickly to the next crisis. I can’t help but feel that the struggles of our country are often forgotten, overshadowed by more "pressing" global issues. Many people in the West don’t truly grasp what’s happening here; they only see the headlines without understanding the depth of the suffering.
I wish Western media would show more consistent interest in our plight. The occasional news story isn’t enough. Myanmar’s people need global pressure on the military regime, and the West has the power to help. I’d like to see change in the form of—more awareness, more advocacy, more action. If people knew the real stories of those who have lost everything, I believe it would lead to greater global solidarity.
I had the chance to experience Western culture after coming to the UK, and while I appreciated the freedoms and opportunities that people there seem to take for granted, it made me realise just how different life is in Myanmar. I admired the ability to speak freely, to protest without fearing for one’s life. However, I also noticed how detached many people were from global issues, including ours. It’s a big contrast to the urgency we live with every day.
As for now, my loved ones and I are existing and surviving, but that’s all we can really say—surviving. We move cautiously, always looking over our shoulders. Some days are better than others, but the uncertainty never leaves. We try to stay connected with those who’ve fled, but it’s difficult. The constant power cuts, the lack of internet, and the risk of surveillance make communication a challenge.
Still, we hold on to hope. Perhaps one day, things will change, but for now, we do what we can to live in a world that feels like it’s crumbling beneath our feet.”
