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Drones, Desperation, and Displacement: Rohingya Flee Violence in Myanmar’s Rakhine State

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Drones, Desperation, and Displacement: Rohingya Flee Violence in Myanmar’s Rakhine State

Amid a growing humanitarian crisis, the personal accounts of two Rohingya women illuminate the profound struggles faced by those escaping the turmoil in Rakhine.

Drones, Desperation, and Displacement: Rohingya Flee Violence in Myanmar’s Rakhine State

Salma Bibi displays a bullet fragment extracted from a wound that she sustained during an attack while fleeing Myanmar’s Rakhine State.

Credit: Courtesy photo

As the violent clashes between the Arakan Army and the Myanmar military intensify, thousands of Rohingya and other ethnic minorities are fleeing their homes in Rakhine State, seeking refuge in neighboring Bangladesh. The border area has become a critical zone, with approximately 4,000 to 5,000 Rohingya, Chakma, and Barua people stranded in various villages around the Zero Point and Tombru areas. Many risk perilous journeys at night, aided by brokers, to cross into Bangladesh, only to face the threat of being apprehended and pushed back by the Border Guard Bangladesh. 

Amid this humanitarian crisis, the personal accounts of two Rohingya women – Humaira and Salma Bibi – illuminate the profound struggles faced by those escaping the turmoil.

Humaira’s Journey: A Tale of Loss and Survival

In March, during the holy month of Ramadan, “We were told to leave our village by Mogh Baghi [Arakan Army], as they planned to engage in fighting with the Myanmar military,” recalls Humaira, a Rohingya woman. She once lived peacefully in the village of Hadir Bill. The warning marked the beginning of a relentless flight from danger for her and her family.

Their first refuge was Nol Boinna, where they stayed for “10 to 15 days.” However, fear of escalating violence forced them to move again to Maungni Fara. “We had to move once more to Hari Fara when weapons and bombs started landing on Maungni Fara,” Humaira explains. Each village they sought shelter in became another battleground, leaving them with no choice but to keep moving.

At Hari Fara, they sought shelter in a school, but “the school was also bombed.” Desperate and with nowhere else to turn, they fled to Kunar Fara. “In Kunar Fara, the fighting between Mogh Baghi and the military escalated,” Humaira says. 

Eventually, they ended up in Zam Boinna Camp, also known as Hla Poe Kaung Camp, built by the Myanmar military for the pilot repatriation of Rohingya from Bangladesh. “We stayed at that camp for almost two and a half months,” enduring starvation and the constant threat of aerial bombings.

Determined to find safety, Humaira and her family decided to flee to Bangladesh. “We fled the camp and came to Bangladesh because we were starving, and our husbands could not work. We also have children to care for,” she explains. They paid brokers exorbitant sums for passage: 550,000 kyats per person.

Their journey took them to Mangala, where they boarded “a boat without a motor.” However, upon reaching Jaliardwip, a small island in the Naf River marking the border between Bangladesh and Myanmar, they faced a new nightmare. “We were kept at Jaliardwip for one night, as they claimed they could not reach the shores of Bangladesh,” Humaira recounts. The brokers, instead of facilitating their safe passage, held them hostage, demanding more money.

As they prepared to continue their journey, tragedy struck. “The Mogh Baghi fired guns and attacked us with bombs using drones from above,” Humaira says, her voice heavy with grief. The attack was sudden and devastating. “There was no way to calculate how many of us were there, as the crowd was very large,” she adds.

In the chaos, Humaira suffered injuries to her shoulder, chest, and near her ear. Worse still, she lost her 9-year-old son and her uncle in the attack. “Almost 60 people died on the spot in front of us,” she says. “I couldn’t even see my son’s body and had to leave him there.”

Her husband was also injured, sustaining wounds to his legs, knees, and feet. “He has been hospitalized at Chittagong Hospital,” Humaira notes. Due to the severity of their injuries and the confusion during their escape, they were separated. “I came with my children and other people. I saved my life, and he saved his,” she says, the pain of separation evident. 

Nearly eight months after being forced to flee her home, Humaira arrived in Bangladesh on November 2. Now she faces new challenges. “I have to pay for CNG vehicle transportation both ways [to the hospital]. If I need an operation, I stay hospitalized for the necessary duration,” she says. Despite her own injuries and the loss of her son, she struggles to care for her surviving children and worries about her husband’s condition. “I haven’t been able to meet him yet,” she admits.

Salma Bibi’s Story: A Mother’s Fight for Her Children

Salma Bibi, who hails from Hari Fara in Rekkwa No. 2, Maungdaw, described the harrowing conditions that forced her family to flee. “The Mogh Baghi subjected us to relentless torture and oppression,” she said. “They bombarded us with explosives, leaving us no choice but to abandon our home and seek safety elsewhere.” Salma and her family fled on August 10.

Their journey mirrors that of thousands of displaced persons in the region. “We fled to Kunar Fara, and from Kunar Fara, we came to Dargwa Fara. Then we moved to the camp base in Zam Boinna (Hla Poe Kaung),” Salma recounts. Each move was a desperate attempt to find safety, but danger seemed to follow them.

With conditions deteriorating, Salma and her family, including her husband and three daughters, decided to escape to Bangladesh. “As the situation escalated and survival became impossible, we took the route from Mangala and came here,” she says. They used villagers’ boats to reach Jaliardwip, promising to pay the fare upon arrival. “They demanded 550,000 kyats per person,” she notes. 

At Jaliardwip, they were stranded for two days without adequate food or water. “We could not eat,” Salma recalls. “We brought some biscuits for the children. I fed them biscuits, and we faced difficult challenges.”

The situation turned deadly when the Arakan Army attacked. “At first, there was gunfire between [the] Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army [ARSA] and Mogh Baghi. Then, seeing us, the Mogh Baghi attacked us with drones,” she says. Salma witnessed two drones dropping bombs on their group. “We heard gunfire from afar… I saw two drones falling on our side.”

In the ensuing chaos, Salma’s husband, Dil Mohammed, was killed. “We couldn’t see him in the chaos. I went somewhere with my children, and he went somewhere else,” she says, her voice breaking. “Later, people informed us that my husband had died – his brain had come out of his head.”

Salma and her children were also injured in the attack. “I’m injured on my chest, hand, forehead, and leg,” she details. “My daughter’s fingers were separated from her hand, leaving only her thumb. Another daughter was injured on her thigh.”

They managed to reach Bangladesh on November 4, following others who were fleeing. “We faced great difficulties and somehow managed to reach the shores of Bangladesh,” Salma says. They received medical treatment at the International Organization for Migration hospital. These, she says, the bomb fragments were removed in an operation. “I kept all the fragments that were taken out from my injuries,” she notes.

Now residing in Camp No. 24 in Leda, Salma faces the daunting task of rebuilding her life without her husband. Despite her losses, she maintains connections with other displaced families. “I’m connected with one. It’s my husband’s elder sister’s daughter. Her husband is alive but injured in both legs.”

The Broader Crisis

The stories of Humaira and Salma are emblematic of the larger humanitarian crisis unfolding along the Bangladesh-Myanmar border. This year, thousands have risked everything to escape the intensifying conflict between the Arakan Army and the Myanmar military.

Many attempt to cross into Bangladesh at night with the help of brokers who demand exorbitant fees, sometimes amounting to their life savings. “People have shared with us that they are afraid to seek assistance as this might put them at risk of being exploited or even returned to Myanmar,” said Orla Murphy, Médecins Sans Frontières’ (MSF) country director in Bangladesh. 

Refugees arriving in Cox’s Bazar enter overcrowded camps where food rations are stretched thin, leaving many, particularly women and children, vulnerable to malnutrition and neglect. MSF reports an increase in malnutrition among children under 5 since July, highlighting the severe lack of access to food and healthcare during their arduous journeys and in the camps.

The Border Guard Bangladesh faces the challenging task of managing this influx. Those apprehended are “immediately pushed back across the border fence,” and some have been taken into custody. Such actions risk violating the principle of non-refoulement, which prohibits the forced return of individuals to a place where they face persecution, torture, or other serious harm. This has created a perilous situation for refugees who have nowhere else to turn, leaving them vulnerable to further violence and exploitation.

Humaira and Salma’s stories provide a window into the immense human toll of the conflict in Rakhine State. Multiple displacements, unimaginable violence, and personal losses have left scars that will endure for years to come. Now in Bangladesh, they face the challenges of life in overcrowded refugee camps, where access to food, healthcare, and safety remains precarious. 

Their journeys highlight the desperation of those fleeing violence and the complex humanitarian crisis at the Bangladesh-Myanmar border – a crisis that continues to unfold as thousands remain displaced, caught between escalating conflict and uncertain futures.