Survivors, who rely
on shelters of bamboo sticks and black plastic sheets for protection from a
scorching sun, face a major challenge in keeping their newborns alive
Mohammad
Ponir Hossain
Scared, hungry and
badly beaten, Rohingya women fleeing an army crackdown in Burma recount
harrowing tales of destruction and death: a father burned alive, an uncle
slaughtered with a machete, a brother arrested and not heard from again.
But huddled in
makeshift refugee camps, dependent on food rations and the mercy of fellow
refugees, they also carry something else: hope inspired by their newborn
children, for whom Bangladesh is now home.
The babies’ delicate
features present a sharp contrast with the squalid conditions of the makeshift
refugee camp, where a skipped meal or food poisoning can mean the difference
between survival or death.
The Burma army
launched its “clearance operation” after Rohingya insurgents attacked border
guard posts in northwestern Rakhine state in October.
The United Nations
said it had committed mass killings and gang rapes and burned villages in a
campaign that may amount to crimes against humanity and ethnic cleansing.
“One-and-a-half
months ago the military came to our village and kept firing their guns,” said
Amina, 30, one of the refugees, as she cradled her 16-day-old daughter,
Sumaiya.
“You see us alive
only because God was so kind,” she added. “They caught my uncle and my younger
brother and we don’t know whether they are dead or alive.”
Rohingya
mothers face persecution
The military calls its crackdown on the Muslim minority a lawful counterinsurgency operation to defend the country and has denied the allegations. Burma launched several investigations into the alleged abuse, but human rights monitors say they lack credibility and independence.
Amina is one of
about 75,000 refugees to have successfully made an often perilous crossing
through the fields, eventually fording a river boundary to reach Bangladesh.
Some starved for
weeks, while others gave everything they had to pay off people smugglers. Many
never made it, drowning or getting shot by Burmese security forces on the
journey.
Survivors, who rely
on shelters of bamboo sticks and black plastic sheets for protection from a
scorching sun, face a major challenge in keeping their newborns alive.
The camps often lack
medical facilities and running water, leading aid agency workers to worry about
an outbreak of water-borne diseases such as cholera.
“People are living
in tough circumstances,” said Azmat Ulla, an official of the International
Federation of Red Cross in Bangladesh, which has launched an emergency appeal
for help. “Most don’t have access to regular medical services and are not
getting enough food.”
Surviving
on rations
Many women struggle
for funds, having lost male relations, the sole breadwinners in most families.
They rely on handouts from the World Food Programme and other agencies.
Clinics run by
non-government bodies and the UN are overrun, scrambling to treat thousands of
patients each month.
Minara Begum, 22,
calms her crying one-month-old son, Ayub, as she tells of fleeing from her
village of Nasha Phuru with her husband and mother-in-law.
“My child doesn’t
get enough breast milk as I don’t eat enough nutritious food,” she said. “I
have to buy milk powder, though it’s not very good for my son.”
Many women said they
survived or witnessed acts of gang rape by soldiers.
An official of a
large Western aid agency told Reuters it had distributed more than 660 “dignity
kits” for assault victims, besides counselling nearly 200 women who suffered
trauma after the killing of a family member, usually male.
“This is just the
tip of the iceberg,” said the worker, who declined to be identified because he
was not authorised to talk to the media.
Lucky to
be alive
The quiet of Cox’s
Bazar, a beachside resort town, makes for a jarring contrast with the temporary
camps amid rice paddies and salt flats just an hour’s drive away.
Large groups of
desperate women line the roads, begging for money from passing cars, often well
after sunset.
A red blanket spread
on the earthen floor of her shelter, Rehana Begum, 25, cares for her
one-day-old daughter. She fled her village of Jambuinna three months ago.
“We were in our home
and suddenly the military came to our village and started shooting,” she said.
“When we heard the
sound of gun shots we immediately went to our relatives. We walked for four
hours without any food and water to reach the border at 1am. We paid $18 (£14)
to a broker to cross.”
The figure is equivalent
to 25,000 Burmese Kyat.
Intercepted by
Bangladesh border guards, Begum’s family narrowly escaped being sent home.
“They wanted to send
us back, but then we heard gunshots from the Burma side and the guards released
us, saying, ‘Stay in Bangladesh and save your lives’,” she said.