Inside the Heart of the Myanmar Resistance

MYANMAR : In a rundown badminton court in Vaphai village, India, the sound of weeping often drowns out the rustle of plastic sacks containing the few belongings Burmese refugees could carry across the border. For the women of Myanmar’s Chin State, the trauma of the last month is a physical weight.

“We grabbed what we could—some food and clothes—and ran,” says Iang Za Kim, her face quivering as she recalls the fighter jets that turned her village of K-Haimual into a smoking ruin on November 26.

Among the displaced is 80-year-old Ral Uk Thang. At an age when he should be resting, he has spent weeks hiding in makeshift jungle shelters. Having lived through decades of military cruelty, he has little faith in the junta’s promises of a “free and fair” election this December.

“We are afraid of our own government,” Ral says. “When Aung San Suu Kyi was in power, we experienced a bit of democracy. Now, all we do is cry.”

A rare visit to a rebel hospital deep in the forested mountains of Chin State reveals the heavy price being paid by the next generation. The wards are filled with teenage fighters, many of whom were schoolboys when the 2021 coup occurred.

Lost his right leg and suffered severe hand injuries while trying to retake territory captured by the junta. He is currently in too much pain to speak.

Also an amputee after stepping on a landmine during an aerial assault. “I’ve lost a leg, but even if I have to give my life, I am happy to make the sacrifice so future generations have a better life,” he says from his hospital bed.

For families like that of Bawi Nei Lian, the current offensive is a repetitive nightmare. They first lost their home in 2021 to a military fire. After rebuilding their lives in K-Haimual, they are homeless once again.

“I want the world to know that what the military is claiming—that this election is free and fair—is absolutely false,” Bawi says.

As the junta prepares to hold its phased elections starting December 28, the people of Chin State are not looking toward the ballot box for hope. Instead, they are looking toward the mountains where their children fight, and across the borders where they hope to survive long enough to one day return home.